Some Key Players who Ran the Show

I cannot close this chapter of my life without paying tribute to a few of the original heroes who were my colleagues. They were the backbone of the compensation programs that, over the years, cost the German government about fifty billion dollars which went to ameliorate some of the wounds inflicted by the Hitler regime.

The heads of various Jewish organizations that comprised the Claims Conference Board of Directors did not interfere with the staff. They felt guilty about not having been able to prevent the Holocaust, and were eager to be involved in anything that indicated their concern. They were happy to take the credit if it didn’t require any cash. When the indemnification program was conceived, some may have thought that all that was needed were bags full of German money that could be handed out to survivors, together with a pat on the head. As noted, it wasn’t quite that simple. It took an army of German bureaucrats to process of the millions of claims that poured in pursuant to complicated laws. The skillful diplomacy of Nahum Goldmann, as the key political negotiator on the highest levels, was indispensable. The wise legal and historical guidance of Nehemiah and Jacob Robinson, distinguished lawyers from Lithuania, was the backbone of the legislation that was enacted by Germany.  Without help from influential and sympathetic German friends, no payments would have been possible. All of the key Jewish staff members, except Kagan, have now passed away—but they should not be forgotten.

The JRSO offices were always headed by Allied lawyers who were themselves victims of Nazi persecution. Every member of the German staff was pre-screened for Nazi connections via the Berlin Document Center. The dedicated Claims Conference and URO office directors, who worked for very little pay, had to bear unreasonable accusations and calumny, as though they were responsible for the delays and hurdles they worked so hard to overcome.  This is not to suggest that there weren’t mistakes made on all sides.  But we were very fortunate in being able to attract and hold some topnotch German lawyers who returned to Germany after being unjustly disbarred, and who were eager to resume the practice of law on behalf of others, had been dispossessed and discarded.

In general, morale among the top staff members was excellent. As most of them were old enough to be my father, I recognized that they were more experienced, and I valued and respected their opinions.  One esteemed colleague who was recommended by The Joint when I was hired in 1948, was Saul Kagan.  I had met Saul in Berlin in 1946. I was collecting evidence of war crimes, and he was employed by the U.S. Military Government to examine the records of Nazi bankers. Saul had fled from Vilna in Lithuania in 1939, at the age of 17, to find refugee with a relative in America. His mother and brother were murdered in the Holocaust.  His father survived as a slave laborer for the Nazis, and it was years after the war when Kagan served in the U.S. Air Force, that son and father were reunited.  Kagan and I became close partners in pursuit of our shared goals.

Kagan’s role as administrator and advisor in both the JSRO and the Claims Conference was invaluable.  He returned to New York from Nuremberg around 1952 to become the right hand man on restitution questions for Moses Leavit, the Executive Vice-President of The Joint.  At the same time, he served as Secretary to the Claims Conference and consultant to its President, Nahum Goldmann. Our personal relationship as long time friends and colleagues facilitated the smooth running and coordination of the various organizational activities.  Long after passing retirement age, Saul Kagan continued his dedicated, diligent, and tireless efforts on behalf of the Claims Conference in search of additional restitution and compensation for victims of Nazi oppression throughout the world.

Dr. George Weis, who had fled from Prague to England when the Nazis took over, was lucky to land a position as a Legal Advisor to the AJDC in Paris after the war ended.  He was an outstanding legal mind and could be both charming and caustic.  He had come to Nuremberg to look me over when he heard that I might be considered for the JRSO job he coveted.  His unsolicited report to his superiors in Paris warned, in no uncertain terms, that my appointment to that position would be an unmitigated disaster. When I decided to take the job, the head of The Joint, knowing that I was recruiting help, felt obliged to show me the Weis letter. Weis never found out that I had seen his rather vicious report. I hired him after making it clear that he would be treated as a respected colleague whose help would be appreciated, and who would be judged only by the quality of his work. It wasn’t easy working with “Georgie,” who insisted that I refer to him as “Dr. Weis.”  The conflicts between him and other staff members were inevitable.

Dr. Ernst Katzenstein had fled from the little town of Hameln in Germany to England and Israel.  He played a key role in all aspects of the restitution programs. When I returned to the States in 1956, he took over my responsibilities as Director-General of the JRSO. He was also the Director of the URO regional office in Frankfurt.  He was a soft-spoken and charming man who could be relied upon to make the best possible legal and moral case on behalf of thee Nazi victims. When envious George Weis expressed fierce resentment against my promotion of Katzenstein, the relations between them became nearly unbearable, and the situation called for change.
 
The head of all URO offices after I returned to New York was Kurt May, who fled from Meiningen in East Germany to Tel Aviv before joining the URO staff.  He had been an appellate lawyer at the German Supreme Court in Jena and had no patience for administrative work.  He understood the mentality of German judges, and his work was invaluable in difficult legal cases that had to be fought through all the levels of the German judiciary.  He took his files home with him at night and, like “Father William, argued each case with his wife.” His spouse, Wera, had been forced by Nazi decree to discontinue her legal education. Under the new Federal Compensation Laws, she was entitled to be reinstated and treated as though she had never been ousted.  That enabled her to complete her studies, and become an Appellate Judge in the Frankfurt District Court.  The URO was getting the benefit of two expert legal opinions for the price of one.

Otto Blumenthal, who changed his name to Bental when he got to Palestine, was in charge of the URO office in Berlin. He had the rare talent of being both an excellent lawyer and an excellent administrator. He also impressed me with the fact that he was an excellent horseman, although that was not an absolute prerequisite for the URO job.  He continued riding until he was past 90 and fell off a horse that was probably younger.  Although he no longer mounted a saddle, he once explained to me, after returning from an equestrian show, that he owned part of a horse. Since my knowledge of that subject is very limited, I was afraid to inquire which part.  He also translated classical English poetry into German verses and German verses into English. 

Hans Tuch, a distinguished Berlin judge who became John Tuck when he escaped to England, ran the JRSO office in Berlin.  He had been a bachelor all of his life until he encountered a spinster from Belfast who acquired him as a husband.  Since she spoke no German, she wiled away her time in Berlin by shopping in the luxurious “KDW”—a block square department store like Macy’s in New York where she bought whatever fit her fancy.  As it was never very fancy, and probably didn’t fit, she usually returned everything the next day.  It was an inexpensive hobby while her new hubby toiled in the office. Tuch was a quiet and gentle soul and much admired by all those who knew him. When Dr. Weis and Dr. Katzenstein had a row in Nuremberg that was so bitter that I could not keep them both working side by side, I transferred Weis to Berlin to be in charge of that office. First I discussed it with Tuch who said he respected Weis and would accept any decision that would help resolve office problems, even if his own position might seem to be diminished.   Before sending Weis to Berlin, I made it crystal clear to him that he would be fired like a shot if I ever heard that he was abusing my kind old friend Tuch in any way. In fact, it worked out well.  Eventually, Weis set up a new restitution office in Vienna, where he was the man-in-charge and reportedly did fine.  

Professor Norman Bentwich, an old and distinguished international lawyer, was Chairman of the United Restitution Organization which had its main office on London’s Finchley Road.  Norman and his wife Mary (whom he called “Mamie,”) Chaired the London County Council,. They were both unpretentious people who lived a simple life in a little cottage in a suburb called “The Vale of Health.”  One of their neighbors had been the noted Indian philosopher Tagore. I am sure that Tagore and Bentwich learned from each other. Bentwich had been the Attorney General of Palestine when it was under the British Mandate, and he was highly respected.  He had ridden the desert on a camel with Lawrence of Arabia.  He taught at the Hebrew University and was an advisor to Emperor Haille Selassie of Ethiopia, whose black Jewish population known as “Felashas” were eager to emigrate to Israel.  I spent many happy hours tramping over the heath and exchanging stories with my dear friend Norman. As URO Chairman, he would sometimes give the impression of napping, but when he suddenly popped one eye open it was because someone had made some foolish remark. When Bentwich died, in his eighties, I felt honored to accompany Mamie to the overflowing memorial service in the largest synagogue in London.

A former Jewish lawyer named Herbert Schoenfeldt fled from the Nazis in Berlin carrying his aged mother on his back as they escaped over the Pyrenees Mountains.  They eventually traveled to New York, where he found employment as a shoe salesman.  I first met Schoenfeldt when he was employed in a minor position at the Nuremberg trials.  I later hired him to be the Director for the JSRO regional office in Stuttgart, where he filed claims for heirless property on behalf of the Jewish successor organization.  An incident unrelated to restitution brought us closer together.

One day Schoenfeldt phoned me frantically.  He confessed that, while taking driving lessons from the German driver employed by the office, he had nearly killed someone.  He explained that he was unable to turn the steering wheel properly and the car ran up on the sidewalk where it sideswiped a woman pushing a baby carriage.  He attributed his inability to control the car to a permanent injury to his right arm for which the German Army in World War I had awarded him an Iron Cross.  Fortunately, no one had been seriously injured, but he was immediately arrested by the U.S. military police, who, after a brief hearing, found him incompetent to drive and held him for more serious charges in another U.S. court. I promised to come to Stuttgart promptly to see what could be done to help him.

On the day the trial was scheduled, I went to Stuttgart early and asked the German driver to reenact with me exactly how the accident had occurred.  I sat in the driver’s seat with the German “instructor” next to me.  When we reached the scene, I asked the driver what he did when he noticed that the car was going in a dangerous direction.  He said proudly that he had grabbed the wheel and tried to stop the car.  I asked him to show me just how that was done.  He grabbed the wheel from my hand and threw his right leg toward the brake.  In so doing, my foot was pressed down on the gas pedal and the car lurched forward.  I pointed out that when the vehicle hit the baby carriage, it was not Schoenfeldt who was in control of the car, but the German driver instead.  I told the astounded and apprehensive German that I would call him as a witness, and all I wanted was for him to tell the truth.

In the courtroom, I pointed out to the three American military judges that I was a Harvard law graduate, a former Chief Prosecutor at the Nuremberg trials, and the Director-General of the organization by which the accused defendant was employed.  Permission to represent him was immediately granted.  I began with a throwaway argument before I planned to unfurl my dramatic defense.  I noted that the accused had already been arrested for the same offense by the MPs, and penalized in the military traffic court, and therefore the current proceedings constituted illegal double jeopardy.  The judges looked puzzled but noted the pile of law books that I had placed on the table before me.  The only sound that came from the bench was, “Case dismissed!”  Frankly, I was rather disappointed that I would be unable to display my investigatory skills.  The German driver, who had been cringing in back of the room, was amazed and relieved and promised to take me as his lawyer if he ever got into trouble.  A much-relieved Herbert Schoenfeldt became my friend forever.

When the reparations negotiations in The Hague between the West German government and the Claims Conference were nearing completion, I was designated, at no additional salary, to be the Director of the Claims Conference in Germany.  I promptly asked Herbert to accept a transfer from the JRSO office in Stuttgart to head an office of the Claims Conference in Bonn, the new West German capital.  I promised him a bigger car, a better driver, a nicer apartment, and an expense account.  I doubt if I offered him much of a raise in pay. 

He asked me to explain what he was supposed to do.  I replied that all I wanted him to do was to make friends.  In the reparations accord, the German government enacted special laws that were highly contentious and would require approval by the parliament.  To protect the interests of Nazi victims, we would need all the friends we could get.  I wanted to know what each member of the German Parliament was thinking.  The best way to do that was to get to know the female secretaries.  Since Schoenfeldt had never been married and was a charming fellow, he was the perfect man for the job.

A little story may reflect the character of the man and our relationship.  It was not surprising to find on the expense account various sums for flowers or chocolates or even for dinners and wines consumed entertaining members of the German Bundestag.  I had no objection to paying for refurnishing his new apartment.  But I noticed that one of the items included the cost of a large double bed.  I explained to my friend Herbert that I would not object to paying for a single bed but, since we were dispensing Jewish charitable funds, I did not think paying for a double bed would be appropriate.  We quibbled a bit, as we usually did over money matters, but he finally agreed.  Soon thereafter, I received a copy of an invitation he had sent to his very many female acquaintances, announcing the official opening of his newly refurnished apartment.  He noted, however, that his cheap boss had refused to pay the full cost of the double bed, so explaining the collection box at the foot thereof—in which guests could make contributions.  I guess I then approved the full expense.
 
Dr. Herbert Schoenfeldt was soon respected and loved by every important person in Bonn.  He became an effective lobbyist to protect and enhance the interest of all of the intended beneficiaries of the new Federal Indemnification Law.  I sat with him in the balcony of the Bundestag when improved legislation was passed in 1965 to close some of the gaps in the original 1956 Indemnification Law. The law that was finally enacted was the basis for millions of claims filed by all victims of Nazi persecution.  Almost every clause had to be fought for in negotiations, against those who believed that Germany should pay less or nothing at all.  Schoenfeldt’s legal skills, charm, and persistence masked the many long hours of hard work, negotiation, and persuasion trying to reach consensus or compromises on very difficult legal and moral issues.

Very shortly after the improved Final Indemnification Law was enacted, Herbert Schoenfeldt died of a heart attack, alone in his apartment.  He had been like a beloved relative to our family, known as “Uncle Herby” to my children.  He often said, “A bachelor lives like a King, but dies like a dog.”  It was not true.  When Herbert Schoenfeldt died, he was given a state funeral by the German government.  The Chairman of the German Parliament, Carlo Schmidt, helped carry his coffin.  Schoenfeldt was an unsung hero who died in service of the oppressed who had never heard his name, and who owe him a debt that can never be paid.