Under His Very Windows: The Vatican and the Holocaust in Italy

Christian Century, Oct 10, 2001 by Victoria Barnett

Under His Very Windows: The Vatican and the Holocaust in Italy. By Susan Zuccotti. Yale University Press, 352 pp., $29.00.

CONTROVERSY ABOUT the role of the Vatican and Pope Pius XII during the Holocaust has raged ever since Rolf Hochhuth's play The Deputy was first performed in 1965, but the debate has intensified in recent years. Since 1965 the Vatican has published 11 volumes of selected archival material from the Nazi era--but these volumes omitted some relevant documents. Last fall, a commission of six historians (three Catholics and three Jews) concluded their examination of these books with a detailed and well-grounded plea for scholarly access to the rest of the Vatican archives. That access has not been granted and, in July, the commission announced that it could not continue its research until the archives were opened. In August, Peter Gumpel, a prominent German Jesuit at the forefront of the efforts to beatify Pius XII, accused some of the Jewish historians on the panel of "a clear propagandistic goal to damage the Holy See."

Made with the Vatican's approval, Gumpel's remark illustrates the depth of the defensiveness among some Catholics about the ongoing discussion of Pius XII's actions during the Holocaust. To some extent, this defensiveness is understand able. The critical books on his role during the Nazi era (including the three reviewed here) have found a large audience. Some Catholic commentators charge that much of this scholarship reflects a deeper bias against the church itself.

Ironically, in recent years discussions between Catholics and Jews have led to some significant breakthroughs and more cordial relations in general. John Paul II's visit to Israel and his statements about the Holocaust were milestones in Catholic-Jewish relations. It would be unfortunate, then, if this progress were to be derailed by the ill will currently being generated.

One thing that may be lacking from the debate is a greater sense of perspective. The recent interest in Pius XII reflects a growing public interest in the Holocaust and, among scholars, a closer examination of the dynamics of institutional complicity. The Vatican is not the only institution to come under scrutiny; Protestant churches, international NGOs such as the Red Cross, banks, art museums and international corporations such as Ford and IBM have been called to account for their behavior. A closer examination of the role of anti-Semitism inevitably raises questions about traditional Christian teachings about Judaism and the churches' role through the centuries in sanctioning and, all too often, instigating measures against the Jews.

Yet much that has been written about the Vatican and Plus XII, who served as pope during the crucial years from 1938 to 1945, is based on certain assumptions. Many assume that the Vatican's unique and powerful role in Europe gave it special options and responsibilities, and that a more decisive and outspoken pope could have changed the course of history, perhaps even preventing the genocide. Would the excommunication of leading Nazis or threats to excommunicate participants in the genocide have altered the actions of ordinary Catholics?

In their attempt to reach a definitive moral verdict, those who raise or respond to such questions often blur the line between historical reality and speculation. Some would declare Pius XII a saint, others view him (and his church) as the theological ally of Nazism. The truth lies somewhere in between. When the available evidence is examined in its entirety, Pius XII emerges as neither a saint nor a Nazi, but as a complex, enigmatic figure who reveals a great deal about the troubling ambiguity that characterized the Christian world's response to the Holocaust.

In general this response, like that of other sectors, forms a devastating pattern of compromise, prejudice, self-interest, silence, passivity and even criminal behavior. Most Catholic and Protestant leaders failed to protest against either the initial persecution of Jews or, finally, the mass murders and the death camps; their priority was to preserve their institutions and to avoid confrontations with the Nazis. It is particularly terrible to read some of the theological statements of the era: the apologias for Nazism, the carefully crafted protests that avoided any explicit mention of the victims, and the sermons that interpreted Nazi policies as instruments of God's historical will.

YET THERE IS another side to this story: the Christians, including members of religious orders, who hid Jews; the public protests by church leaders in this country and in Europe; the clergy outside Nazi Germany who worked with Jewish organizations to help refugees; the churches' role throughout Europe in helping resistance groups.

These people and communities were clearly in the minority, and historical debate tends to focus on the bottom line. But what is the real bottom line here? I have just offered a brief description of the two extremes, but most of the history of that era leaves us with as many questions as answers. When it comes to the underlying motives for church behavior (fear? anti-Semitism? institutional self-interest?), our conclusions ultimately rest upon our interpretation of the available data, which we know is incomplete. The pope's opaque and guarded pronouncements during the Holocaust are interpreted by his critics as indifference, by his defenders as necessary caution.