Pius xii and the holocaust

For many Germans, Pope Pius symbolizes a hypocritical institution volition to connive with the Nazis to secure its own endurance. Yet this does not agreement with the facts.

Oct. 9 marked the 50th day of remembrance of the death of Pope Pius XII, one of the most controversial leaders of the World War II era. Yet he is controversial not because of what he did, but because of what he didn't do.

Even although the Vatican Palace was faithfully informed about the Nazi race murder of Europe's Jews - at least toward the end of the war - and Jewish organizations begged him to speak out, the pope refused to publically condemn the atrociousness.

The contention about the pope's "silence" at first focused on his supposed motives. A young German writer shot to fame in 1963 by denouncing Pius XII as anti-Semitic, as a leader who was more concerned about Vatican Palace finances than the fate of Europe's Jews.

Rolf Hochhut's play, "The deputy sheriff," was badly researched, historically inaccurate and slanderous, but it spoke strongly to a coevals of Germans rebelling against their "Nazi fathers."

Pope-bashing fitted in with a more full general rejection of the repressive norms of middle class society. Young Germans were acquisition, as they said, "to walk on the grass." "The deputy sheriff" was a huge success.

For many Germans, even today, Pius XII symbolizes a hypocritical and repressive institution volition to connive with Nazi murderers to secure its own endurance.

Yet this does not agreement with the facts. The ground for Pius XII's refusal to back the Allied cause are well-documented. As the Negro spiritual leader of all Roman Catholics, he was convinced that his duty was to mediate, not participate in the struggle. Then, as the full horror of the Nazis' law-breaking gradually unfolded, he was drawn into an agonizing dilemma.

As a spiritual leader whom millions looked upon for moral authority, he knew he had a responsibility to speak out. Yet he feared that a direct denunciation of the concentration camps would endanger more lives, especially "non-Arian Catholics" who were largely ignored by Jewish rescue organizations.

The Nazis had also incarcerated thousands of Catholic priests, Poles as well as Germans, whose lives would have been endangered by a papal condemnation.

So Pius XII restricted his public utterances, making only general appeals to uphold traditional moral values. He relied on the fundamental decency of individuals to resist the Nazis as far as each person's concrete circumstances allowed.

Since the publication of 12 volumes of documents from the Vatican archives between 1965 and 1981, no serious historian can question the motives for Pius XII's "silence" any longer. But the debate has shifted to speculation about what might have happened if the pope had decided to speak out more emphatically.

His critics argue that an encyclical might have saved Jewish lives, but that's probably nonsense. German Catholics didn't need a papal pronouncement to tell them that the Nuremberg Laws contradicted Christian ethics. And even when Germany was losing the war on two fronts, the Nazis deployed much-needed resources to accomplish their terrible "Final Solution." They viewed it as a major priority, so they were hardly likely to be deterred by a papal condemnation.

A fairer assessment of Pius XII, based on the historical facts, is needed for two reasons:

First, it's a question of justice. Like all of us, the pope was a creature of his times. His personal piety and some of his social views may now seem antiquated, but he was certainly not a Nazi sympathizer. Nor was he anti-Semitic.

Second, when this controversial pope has been understood in the agonizing complexity of his moral dilemma, a second, even more crucial question emerges: How was it possible that after centuries of Christianity in Europe, many practicing Catholics actively collaborated in the Holocaust, and many more turned a blind eye to the suffering of their fellow human beings?

That was the real failure of the Church during the Holocaust. And it has not yet been adequately explained.

John Berwick is the religious affairs correspondent of DW-TV, Germany's international state broadcaster.