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WHEREVER THEY MAY BE
© 1972, The Beate Klarsfeld Foundation
 
 
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who seemed ten years younger. Nearly six feet tall, with silver hair and an intelligent, understanding expression – the very image of a respectable family man – and even a trifle attractive, except that I thought his eyes too small for the size of his face. As for his private life, I couldn't have cared less. I knew that his home life was irreproachable and that he was so fond of animals that he had once put his rowboat back into the water to rescue a spaniel that was drowning in Lake Constance. He did not appear to be much interested in money. All these dimensions of the man are indeed to be respected, and a consideration of them might have been an obstacle to my campaign if I had paid them any heed, but I didn't. For that matter, Hitler and Himmler had led exemplary private lives.

A man, especially one who plays an important role, is only a sort of rack from which his deeds hang. And in my eyes, his deeds – their significance – are what really count. As much as I would want to describe the physical aspects of Petia our cocker spaniel or our cat, I try, on the contrary, not to be swayed by the physical aspects of persons I meet in my extrafamilial life. I never let myself be impressed by attractions, repulsions, or other personal magnetisms, and I keep a certain balance so as not to lose the thread of my direction.

I had decided to heckle the German Chancellor while he was addressing the full session of Parliament, but I had not realized how hard it is to shout in an orderly assembly. I was afraid I would not have the courage to open my mouth. So I kept looking at the clock, telling myself that I would wait until the minute hand was on the dot of twelve. It was agonizing to keep staring at that hand moving over, closer and closer to the appointed moment. Then, at last, dramatically brandishing my clenched fist I shouted as loud as I could: "Kiesinger, you Nazi, resign!"

Once I had got the words out, it was easy to repeat them.

The Chancellor stopped his speech. I could sense that he was upset. He looked toward me, as did all the members of Parliament. There, in the presence of the representatives of the people of the Federal Republic, his past had risen before him.

The sergeants-at-arms descended upon me. One put his hand over my mouth and dragged me out of the hall into a tiny office. I refused to give my name, and was hauled off to the nearest police station. Only then did I answer any questions. The police super […intendent]
    
   
 
WHEREVER THEY MAY BE
© 1972, The Beate Klarsfeld Foundation
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