SCANDAL IN BERLIN

Evening Star, Issue 20362, 19 December 1929, Page 21

SCANDAL IN BERLIN

CORRUPTION AND COMEDY GRAFT AS A FINE ART i Berlin was recently edified by the ex-, elusion from his party of a Communist member of the Berlin Municipal Council for “ unproletarian behaviour,” and delighted by invitations sent to fellowcouncillors on the, same board by a Nationalist member whoso notepaper ia headed “ Court Carpenter, purveyor to His Majesty the Emperor and King.” Society has also been interested in the antics of a Socialist borough mayor, who, suspended from activity while on holiday, returned and _ refused to consider any official notification, even that of his own suspension, as being truly official in his absence. The final developments in what promised to be the biggest social and political scandal Germany has enjoyed for many months were being awaited. ' All parties are implicated (says the Berlin correspondent of the London ‘ Observer ’). Homo politics are at their most interesting stage just now. But while the shadow of Dr Stresemann’s death hovers over the Nationalist manoeuvres to divide the People’s Party on the Young plan, and few people in a big city have any time or thought for attacking agreements they believe to be, if not the best, at least the best possible under the circumstances, everybody. is interested in the Sklarek scandal .

Contained ia thirty-four volumes of data, with more promised, the Sklarek scandal illuminates,in a long history of systematic corruption much of that phase of Berlin’s life which has astonished and upset the post-war traveller. How various queer types of citizen can afford to wear such-and-such clothes and dine out in certain places, or even attend certain races, is now to a certain extent explained.

MANSIONS AND RACING STABLES. The three brothers Sklarek—Max, Leo. and Willy—whose “turn ” in Berlin is as humorous as that of any music hall, started life as commercial travellers in suitings and textiles. _ They hailed from Breslau, a city which furnishes Berlin with all its smartest business heads. They bought up old army supplies after the war, and the dearth of materials in impoverished and blockaded Germany made them rich men. Skilful manipulation of revolutionary officials gave the brothers the monopoly for municipal supplies of clothing, bedding, and boots to Berlin’s welfare centres, prisons, hospitals, and orphanages. They obtained for years large credits from the city’s bank with orders as security, and their sensational failure for the equivalent of half to threequarters of a million pounds lost by the bank is duo merely to their having lost their heads over their own prosperity. Like all Jews, the Sklarek brothers had a strong family sense, and were the best of brothers; each owned a large mansion and a racing stable. There was a communal shooting box _ and yacht. They possessed scores of friends in political circles, and their sardonic sense of humour enjoyed the fact that a Communist might owe his introduction to them to a Nationalist, and that Nationalists well known for their antiSemitic attitude would foregather with them at expensive restaurants and leave them to foot the bill. It is understandable that the trio sought the society of anybody who had anything to do with the issue of big municipal orders, but the taxpayers of Berlin now understand why city fathers of the best incorruptible Prussian official tradition were glad to be counted among their friends. The Sklareks, past masters in the art of corruption, believing that a shoemaker should stick to his last, did very little home entertaining. They gave their friends tickets for races in which their horses were to run, and w hen they had anything to say they said it with suits and fur coats. THE “TIPS” THAT PAID. The brothers had bought up, among other valuables, the stables of the last King of Bavaria, and they believed, with sound judgment, in their own horses. They would offer to put £5 for a friend on one of their own favourites, _ and if the horse , woiy the friendship was consolidated. If it lost they would say with a smile that they had forgotten to put the £5 on as promised, but so much the better, as it happened. Of their friends everybody had the chance of a new suit from a first-class tailor—not one of Sklarek’s own municipal suits—at a price not exceeding the equivalent of £2 or £2 10s. Municipal officials could obtain six suits a year at this price. Recipients would pay the bills, believing, it is presumed, that the Sklareks really did know how to buy first-class goods at bargain prices, and the brothers would pay the first-class tailor the difference at trade prices. But the chief weapon in their armour was the wife’s fur coat. The ladies of all the more prominent civic officials obtained cheap fur coats the same way. A delegation of very prominent citizens, now on an official visit and study trip to the United States, will bo faced when they return with the question of whether certain of their number ically did believe a mink coat valued at £2OO could be obtained by anybody for £lO. But such questions are as beside the point as the case of the unfortunate Communist whose “ unproletarian behaviour ” also has to do with a new suit.

“ LOADED ” FAT CIGARS. The Sklareks’s knowledge of • horseflesh was equalled by their knowledge of human nature. The only drawback to a cynic’s pleasure in their success is the fact that the garments as supplied to welfare centres were of the poorest quality, and that the unemployed and old age pensioners complained steadily of what they paid for inferior goods. The credulity of their fellowmen—and women—led the brothers into believing that they could forge orders with impunity, and so obtain bigger bank credits when money was tight. In prison, the three brothers awaiting trial were extremely cheerful, smoking the large cigars which are the ball mark of the truly prosperous, in such numbers that investigation revealed cunning hollows, within filled with paper messages from one to the other. . ' , In the meantime 'preparations for the Berlin municipal elections received a decided setback. 1 No one party dared attack another for fear of more Sklarek revelations. Wives of the would-be elected were prohibited from wearing their fur coats, no, matter where obtained, for fear of leading questions.