Winter of the World by Ken Follett Page B

shiver of fear, whether he, too, might find himself imprisoned here.
    There was a roar of cheering and applause, and Hitler walked in, wearing a Brownshirt uniform. The Nazi deputies, most of them similarly dressed, rose to their feet in ecstasy as he mounted the
rostrum. Only the Social Democrats remained seated; but Lloyd noticed that one or two looked uneasily over their shoulders at the armed guards. How could they speak and vote freely if they were
nervous even about not joining in the standing ovation for their opponent?
    When at last they became quiet, Hitler began to speak. He stood straight, his left arm at his side, gesturing only with his right. His voice was harsh and grating but powerful, reminding Lloyd
of both a machine gun and a barking dog. His tone thrilled with feeling as he spoke of the ‘November traitors’ of 1918 who had surrendered when Germany was about to win the war. He was
not pretending: Lloyd felt he sincerely believed every stupid, ignorant word he spoke.
    The November traitors were a well-worn topic for Hitler, but then he took a new tack. He spoke of the churches, and the important place of the Christian religion in the German state. This was an
unusual theme for him, and his words were clearly aimed at the Centre Party, whose votes would determine today’s result. He said that he saw the two main denominations, Protestant and
Catholic, as the most important factors for upholding nationhood. Their rights would not be touched by the Nazi government.
    Heinrich shot a triumphant look at Lloyd.
    ‘I’d still get it in writing, if I were you,’ Lloyd muttered.
    It was two and a half hours before Hitler reached his peroration.
    He ended with an unmistakable threat of violence. ‘The government of the nationalist uprising is determined and ready to deal with the announcement that the Act has been rejected –
and with it, that resistance has been declared.’ He paused dramatically, letting the message sink in: voting against the Act would be a declaration of resistance. Then he reinforced it.
‘May you, gentlemen, now take the decision yourselves as to whether it is to be peace or war!’
    He sat down to roars of approval from the Nazi delegates, and the session was adjourned.
    Heinrich was elated; Lloyd depressed. They went off in different directions: their parties would now hold desperate last-minute discussions.
    The Social Democrats were gloomy. Their leader, Wels, had to speak in the chamber, but what could he say? Several deputies said that if he criticized Hitler, he might not leave the building
alive. They feared for their own lives, too. If the deputies were killed, Lloyd thought in a moment of cold dread, what would happen to their aides?
    Wels revealed that he had a cyanide capsule in his waistcoat pocket. If arrested, he would commit suicide to avoid torture. Lloyd was horrified. Wels was an elected representative, yet he was
forced to behave like some kind of saboteur.
    Lloyd had started the day with false expectations. He had thought the Enabling Act a crazy idea that had no chance of becoming reality. Now he saw that most people expected the Act to become a
reality today. He had misjudged the situation badly.
    Was he equally wrong to believe that something like this could not happen in his own country? Was he fooling himself ?
    Someone asked if the Catholics had made a final decision. Lloyd stood up. ‘I’ll find out,’ he said. He left and ran to the Centre Party’s meeting room. As before, he put
his head around the door and beckoned Heinrich outside.
    ‘Brüning and Ersing are wavering,’ Heinrich said.
    Lloyd’s heart sank. Ersing was a Catholic union leader. ‘How can a trade unionist even think about voting for this bill?’ he said.
    ‘Kaas says the Fatherland is in danger. They all think there will be bloody anarchy if we reject this Act.’
    ‘There’ll be bloody tyranny if you pass it.’
    ‘What about your lot?’
    ‘They think they will all