Volume II – The Seeds of Hate
Chapter 8 – The Dreyfus Affair
The year was 1894, and in the grand halls of Paris, a trial began that would echo across Europe. A man stood accused of treason; Captain Alfred Dreyfus, a brilliant French officer, a Jew.
He was charged with betraying France by passing military secrets to Germany. The evidence was flimsy, the handwriting expert uncertain, the case riddled with holes. But in a France still haunted by defeat in the Franco-Prussian War, the hunger for a scapegoat was fierce. And the scapegoat was found in Dreyfus's ancestry.
The verdict came swiftly: guilty. Stripped of his rank, his sword broken before a jeering crowd, Dreyfus was sent to Devil's Island.
The Affair Explodes
France divided overnight. On one side were the anti-Dreyfusards; nationalists, monarchists, and antisemites; who saw in the case proof that Jews could never be loyal citizens. On the other were the Dreyfusards; intellectuals, republicans, and humanitarians; who saw in the trial a gross miscarriage of justice.
In 1898, the writer Émile Zola published his famous letter J'Accuse, denouncing the conspiracy and the military's corruption. The letter shook Europe. Riots erupted, newspapers raged, families quarreled. It was no longer about one man's guilt or innocence. It was about the place of Jews in modern Europe.
Jewish Families React
In Warsaw, the Asimovs read with dread. "If a man like Dreyfus, a decorated officer of France, can be accused because he is a Jew," Yasha muttered, "what chance do we have here?"
In Odessa, the Zuckerbergs clipped every article they could find. Around their table, they argued in whispers: "This is France; the land of liberty, equality, fraternity. If even there a Jew is not safe, what hope is left?"
The Abramovich family, in Vienna, took the news even closer to heart. Isaac Abramovich, himself a merchant loyal to the empire, warned his children: "Never forget who you are. They may let us trade, let us study, let us serve. But when the winds change, they will call us traitors. Always."
For Jews across Europe, the Dreyfus Affair was more than a scandal. It was revelation: assimilation was a fragile shield. Beneath the uniform, beneath the medals, Dreyfus was always a Jew. And that was enough.
The Kellers and the Affair
In Munich, the Keller household followed the affair with grim satisfaction. Karl Keller spread newspapers on the table.
"Look at this, Friedrich," he said, pointing to a caricature of Dreyfus. "Even in France they see the truth. A Jew in uniform is still a Jew. They will always betray."
Friedrich absorbed the words eagerly. To him, the Affair was not a cautionary tale of injustice, it was vindication. It proved that Jews were not trustworthy, not loyal, not German or French or Russian, but always something apart.
Thus the Kellers, like so many in Europe, found in the Dreyfus Affair confirmation of their deepest prejudices.
Adolf Hitler in Linz
At the time of the Affair's eruption, Adolf Hitler was still a boy in Linz, Austria. But the world around him carried the scandal's echoes. Newspapers spread the story far beyond France. In taverns and homes, people debated Dreyfus's guilt, many insisting the verdict was proof of a wider Jewish conspiracy.
Adolf, impressionable and restless, listened. His father, Alois, stern and authoritarian, dismissed the case as distant French politics. But neighbors, teachers, and fellow townsfolk repeated the anti-Dreyfusard line: the Jew cannot be trusted.
For young Adolf, already struggling with feelings of alienation and resentment, such stories planted seeds. Later, in Vienna's cafés, he would devour pamphlets and articles that framed Jews as parasites and traitors. The Affair, though far from Austria, had seeped into the soil of his youth, ready to nourish his developing worldview.
The Symbol of Betrayal
The genius of antisemitism in the Affair was that it transformed one man into a symbol. Dreyfus ceased to be Alfred, the individual; he became "the Jew."
To antisemites, he was proof that Jews were disloyal. To Jews, he was proof that loyalty would never protect them.
This transformation echoed across Europe. In every caricature, in every headline, Jews were stripped of individuality. They were no longer fathers, mothers, or children. They were the "other," the traitor, the eternal suspect.
For Hitler, who would later master the art of propaganda, the Affair was an early example of how a symbol could reshape a nation's imagination. He did not yet grasp it fully, but the lesson was there, waiting.
The Jewish Covenant Against Despair
But while antisemitism grew bolder, Jewish resilience grew deeper. In Warsaw, the Asimovs held tighter to the covenant. "We are not French, we are not Austrian, we are not Russian," Yasha reminded his children. "We are Jews. And our strength is not in their courts, but in our God."
In Vienna, the Abramovich family debated in the glow of Sabbath candles. Isaac's wife, Miriam, said softly, "If France can condemn Dreyfus, then perhaps Herzl is right. Perhaps we need a homeland of our own."
Indeed, it was the Dreyfus Affair that transformed Theodor Herzl, a secular Jewish journalist in Vienna, into the father of modern Zionism. Watching mobs cry "Death to the Jews!" in the streets of Paris, Herzl realized assimilation was a dead end. Only a homeland could offer safety.
Thus, even in injustice, the covenant pushed forward, turning despair into new resolve.
Parallel Currents
Two currents now flowed side by side in the Europe of young Hitler's youth.
For Jews, the Affair was a turning point, awakening a modern political movement to secure survival: Zionism.
For antisemites, the Affair was confirmation that their suspicions were justified. The lie gained flesh, the prejudice gained proof.
And for Adolf Hitler, standing unknowingly at the crossroads, these currents formed the waters he would soon wade into. His life was not yet bound to the fate of the Jews, but the stage was being set.
The Dreyfus Affair began as a single trial in Paris, but it became a mirror for all of Europe. It revealed how fragile Jewish security truly was, even in the most enlightened of nations.
For Jewish families, it was a warning that assimilation could not erase the covenant. For the Kellers, it was ammunition for their prejudice. For Herzl, it was the spark of a movement. And for Adolf Hitler, growing into adolescence in Linz, it was one more echo of a lesson he was hearing everywhere: that Jews were different, dangerous, and despised.
The boy in Austria had not yet found his voice. But the Affair was one of the murmurs that would feed it. And in the murmurs of Europe, the storm gathered strength.