January 26, 2006
Austria Makes Reparations for Nazi Past
The expulsion and extermination of 182,000 Austrian Jews during the Nazi era is a wound that will never heal completely, but two important decisions during recent weeks at least point to a symbolic closure for the dwindling number of survivors and the Austrian government.
In a high-profile case, Maria Altmann won her seven-year battle to recover from Austria five famous paintings looted by the Nazis and now valued at $200 million. The art works were seized in Vienna in 1938 from Ferdinand Bloch-Bauer, a wealthy Jewish sugar magnate and Altmann's uncle.
After an even longer period of legal and diplomatic wrangling, a court decision has cleared the final hurdle for payment of restitution money to survivors or the heirs of victims.
The drawn-out Altmann case finally reached its end when the Austrian government accepted the decision of an arbitration court in Vienna that the five paintings by Gustav Klimt rightfully belonged to Altmann and four relatives.
The decisive ruling in favor of Altmann and her attorney, E. Randol Schoenberg, is "the most important victory in the entire history of litigation on Holocaust restitution," said professor Michael J. Bazyler of Whittier Law School, whose latest book, "Holocaust Restitution: Perspectives on the Litigation and Its Legacy," has just been published by New York University Press.
Altmann, a tall and animated Cheviot Hills resident, who will celebrate her 90th birthday next month, greeted the decision as "Fabulous.... It is wonderful that justice has finally been done, that was my whole goal."
Born Maria Victoria in Vienna in 1916, she was raised the pampered daughter of the fabulously wealthy Bloch-Bauer family. Her uncle Ferdinand owned Austria's largest sugar-refining factory, numerous mansions and a major art collection.
The Bloch-Bauers were Jewish, but in the selective manner typical of central Europe's Jewish upper class.
"We went to a temple once a year on Yom Kippur, where I remember seeing the Rothschilds, the men in top hats and cutaway coats," Altmann recalled. "But otherwise, we celebrated Christmas and Easter. That's sometimes hard to explain to American Jews."
In December 1937, in the last grand Jewish wedding in Vienna, Maria Block-Bauer married Fritz Altmann, an aspiring opera singer. The newlyweds left for an extended honeymoon. Shortly after their return, Hitler's troops marched into Vienna, amid the unrestrained jubilation of the Austrian people, Maria Altmann remembers well. In one of their first acts, the Nazis seized the art collection of Ferdinand Bloch-Bauer, including the Klimt paintings.
The most famous of the paintings is a gold-flecked portrait of Altmann's aunt, Adele Bloch-Bauer, currently a centerpiece of the Austrian National Gallery and one of the most reproduced pictures of all time.
Following the ruling, there remain some loose ends to be tied up, especially whether Austria will try to buy the Adele portrait, considered a national treasure, from Altmann.
The portrait itself is valued at about $100 million, and the government has said it cannot afford the sum, which is equal to the annual budget for all Austrian museums.
It is Austria's hope that a generous private donor might step up and pick up the tab.
The other Klimt works are a second portrait of Bloch-Bauer and three landscapes.
Schoenberg predicts that his client's victory will encourage other governments and museums, especially in France and Spain, to arrive at settlements on other cases of Nazi looted art taken from Jews during the Hitler era.
A bizarre touch was added last week, when Schoenberg received an anonymous e-mail, whose sender threatened to destroy the Klimt paintings in order for "hungry people to get bread." Austrian authorities temporarily removed the paintings from the National Gallery, and then arrested a 50-year-old man, tracked down through his Internet provider.
The unidentified man claimed that he was drunk when he sent the e-mail.
Until two years ago, Altmann, mother of four and grandmother of six, supported herself by running a fashionable dress shop for women over 40.
Her fortunes have changed in recent months. In addition to the money she is expected to receive under the settlement with Austria or the sale of some of the Klimt paintings, Altman and 13 co-heirs got $21.8 million last year in recompense for the sugar factory and other properties seized by the Nazis.
Although the Bloch-Bauers had the foresight to set up a trust account for the factory's stock in a Swiss bank to shield it from seizure, the bank turned around and sold everything to a well-connected German businessman at a fraction of its value.
Altmann said she plans no changes in her lifestyle.
"I'll stay in the same home where I've lived for 30 years and keep driving my '92 Ford," she said. "And I don't need any new clothing."
However, she plans "to do something" for the Jewish communities in Austria and the United States and for Israel.
Once the money is in hand, she also hopes to realize her long-held dream of sponsoring a performance by the Los Angeles Opera, starring her idol, tenor Placido Domingo. The event would be dedicated to her late husband, whose operatic career was cut short when he had to flee Austria.
Altmann said she had urged Austria seven years ago to arbitrate the dispute, "but I never got a response back."
Schoenberg savored the end of the lengthy confrontation, noting that "at the beginning, we didn't think we had any chance at all."
A decisive break in the legal proceedings came in June 2004, when the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that Austria could be sued in a U.S. court, despite the opposition of the Austrian and American governments.
The Supreme Court decision helped Austria "to finally see the light" and agree to arbitration, Schoenberg said.
Austria Accepts Responsibility
While the Altmann case has made headlines, it is only part of the larger question of Austria's responsibility toward Nazi victims in the postwar decades. Austria, whose native son Adolf Hitler incorporated it into the Third Reich during the 1938 Anschluss, played the role of "first victim" of the Nazis, guiltless of the Holocaust and other atrocities.
This attitude changed in the mid-1990s, when the Austrian president admitted for the first time that his country bore its share of blame for Nazi crimes against Jews, as well as against the Roma and Sinti (gypsies), homosexuals and the disabled.
In 1995, the Austrian parliament established the National Fund for Victims of National Socialism, which over the past 10 years has appropriated some $770 million under various programs compensating for loss of property, education, pensions, tenancy rights, and for slave labor and hardship cases.
But Austria has held back a good chunk of the allotted money, some $210 million, until the government was guaranteed that no subsequent class-action suits against Austrian businesses would be filed by survivors.
Last month, a U.S. District court in New York dismissed all such class-action suits, a decision welcomed by the Claims Conference, which negotiated with Austria on behalf of survivors.
The first payments to some 19,000 claimants in 69 countries are to start next December and should be completed one year later, said Hannah M. Lessing, secretary general of the Austrian National Fund. Lessing was in Los Angeles last week to meet with survivors and, accompanied by Austrian Consul General Martin Weiss, met with The Journal over cappuccino at a Brentwood restaurant.
Lessing was born in Vienna in 1963, the daughter of a Jewish photographer who had fled from Vienna to Palestine in 1939, but returned to his native city after the war. He had left behind his mother and grandmother, who both perished in Auschwitz.
Lessing's non-Jewish mother, with Hannah and her siblings, formally converted to Judaism in 1973. Her later resumé includes a stay in Israel, where she worked as a hotel receptionist and businesswoman.
The raven-haired Lessing wore a prominent Star of David around her neck, which led to a question about the widely reported wave of anti-Semitism again rising in Europe.
She said that the reports were greatly exaggerated, although remnants of classical anti-Semitism remain and in France, especially, threats from young Muslim immigrants.
"I wear my Star of David in Vienna without any comments or incidents," Lessing said. "But when I'm in Paris, my friends think I'm crazy to do so, and in New York I am often advised that I might be better off leaving it at home."
On a subtler level, she acknowledged that most non-Jewish Austrians would categorize her first as a Jew and secondly as an Austrian, just as in past decades most non-Jewish Americans considered Jewish citizens as not "real Americans."
Her answer drew a pained rebuttal from Consul General Weiss.
"I am a Catholic, and I consider Hannah as much an Austrian as I am," he protested.
When Lessing switched from her career as a banker five years ago to accept her present position, she insisted on a pro-active policy of seeking out survivors, open access by claimants to her offices and a minimum of red tape. Nevertheless, she acknowledged criticism that the whole process is still too slow and complex, especially given the advanced age of the remaining survivors.
"There are only some 12,500 Austrian survivors still alive, and every time one dies, we lose," she said.
Lessing also wishes that she could raise the payment rate for Jewish property lost during the Nazi era, which now stands at only 10 to 15 percent of current valuation.
"No amount of money can ever make up for the suffering of the Holocaust," she said. "Whatever we do is meant as a gesture of reconciliation toward our former citizens."