The Pope at War: The Secret History of Pius XII, Mussolini and Hitler. Book 27 of 2022

 

Pope Pius XII has had an ambiguous history until the opening of the Vatican archives this book was based on. The Pope at War: The Secret History of Pius XII, Mussolini, and Hitler  ends the ambiguity about the record of Pius XII during World War II and makes clear he chose to preserve the Vatican and the institution of the Church and never condemn Nazis or Fascists while they were in power.

Beginning in June 1945, when the guns were silent, the Vatican relentlessly defended Pope Pius XII. The task was easier until March 2020 when the archives of Pius XII were opened.  Access to the archives would have to wait several months until COVID restrictions were relaxed, but when the doors were opened, David I. Kertzer was there. 

The result is a 500-page story of a Pope, the leader of the Catholic Church beginning in March 1939, who chose to preserve the Church as an institution and the Vatican itself rather than exercise moral leadership.  

His predecessor, Pius XI, was, by Kertzer's account, a man who saw evil in Fascism and Naziism. He was set to publicly denounce both regimes in February of 1939 when he fell ill. His remarks were printed in 150 copies for distribution to Church leaders. When Pius XII became Pope, he had every copy of his predecessor's attack on Fascists and Nazis destroyed.

By March of 1939, Catholics in Germany, Austria and other lands the Nazis occupied were being persecuted.  Pius XII was secretly negotiating the Nazis for better treatment for Catholics, but he believed the Nazis and Fascists would win the coming war.  

Further, Pius XII, like the Germans who supported Hitler, were more afraid of communism than anything else.  

Then in September 1939, the Nazis conquered Poland and divided the demolished country with the Soviets.  Hitler and Stalin were persecuting and killing Polish Catholics. Church leaders were clamoring for the Pope to condemn the Nazis. Later they were joined by French, Dutch, Belgian, and other Catholic leaders. Pius XII never condemned the Nazis publicly.  

By 1941, the reports of extermination of the Jews reached the Pope through his own envoys and Italian military leaders.  He knew in considerable detail that a million Jews were dead and the pace of slaughter was accelerating.  Pope Pius XII never said the word Jew during the entire war.  He never went further than to regret the death of minorities. 

In 1943 when the fascist government in Italy failed and the Nazis occupied Italy, Pius XII did his best to protect Rome and the Vatican. With the Nazis in charge, the Jews who were already in fascist camps and ghettos were deported to death camps.  Pius XII made some effort to save Jews who were converts, but nothing for Italian Jews. During his papacy, the Vatican newspaper published justifications for keeping Jews away from Christians in ghettos that were Church policy hundreds of years before. 

In 1941, Pius XII spoke to a Catholic youth group about maintaining morality and staying away from movies and other temptations.  It is sadly funny to hear the moral leader of a world Church talking about morality when he has a perfect record of never condemning persecution, death and murder. 

Pius XII also made passionate pleas to stop the bombing of Rome in 1943 and 44 and not to bomb the Vatican.  Winston Churchill was especially vehement in rejecting the Pope's pleas. Pius XII had never condemned the Nazi bombing of London nor spoke out about the suffering of British Catholics under the Blitz. 

The Pope and the Vatican survived the war. When the shooting stopped the rationalizing began. The Pope who never said Jew and never condemned Nazis stayed in office until 1958.  Then his canonization process began.  Hopefully, the archives that are the basis of Kertzer's excellent book will stop the sainthood of a man who chose to save the Vatican and the Church and never condemn evil. His place in eternity is better described in Canto 19 of Inferno by Dante Aligheri. 

First 26 books of 2022:

The Last Interview and Other Conversations by Hannah Arendt

Galapagos by Kurt Vonnegut

The Echo of Greece by Edith Hamilton

If This Isn't Nice, What Is? by Kurt Vonnegut

The War That Made the Roman Empire: Antony, Cleopatra, and Octavian at Actium by Barry S. Strauss. 

Civil Rights Baby by Nita Wiggins

Lecture's on Kant's Political Philosophy by Hannah Arendt

Le grec ancien facile par Marie-Dominique Poree

The Netanyahus by Joshua Cohen

Perelandra by C.S. Lewis

The Federalist Papers by Alexander Hamilton, James Madison and John Jay

First Principles by Thomas Ricks

Political Tribes by Amy Chua 

Book of Mercy by Leonard Cohen

A Brief History of Earth: Four Billion Years in Eight Chapters by Andrew Knoll

Prisoners of Geography by Tim Marshall

Understanding Beliefs by Nils Nilsson

1776 by David McCullough

The Life of the Mind by Hannah Arendt

Civilization: The West and the Rest by Niall Ferguson

How to Fight Anti-Semitism by Bari Weiss

Unflattening by Nick Sousanis

Marie Curie  by Agnieszka Biskup (en francais)

The Next Civil War by Stephen Marche

Fritz Haber, Volume 1 by David Vandermeulen

Courage, Like All of Life, is Non-Linear

Sir Lewis Hamilton, 7-time Formula 1 World Champion

Courage, like so much of life, is non-linear.  Lewis Hamilton has won more races than any driver in the history of the Formula 1 World Championship. Several times in his 15-year career he has had crashes that shredded and splintered his 1100-pound arrow shaped car at speeds well above 100mph.  Most recently his title rival, Max Verstappen, caused a crash that end with with Verstappen's car on top of Hamilton's car. 

After every crash, Hamilton was back in the car the next week, racing at speeds over 200mph into corners with 5-g side loads. 

But Hamilton is very afraid of spiders.  Very afraid. 

In this month's cover story in Vanity Fair magazine about Hamilton, he tells the interviewer that during the race each year in Australia, he insists on a high floor in the hotel, to make extra sure no big Australian spiders are in his room.  Hamilton says he watched the movie Arachnophobia as a child and has been afraid of spiders ever since.  

All of us are complex accumulations of genetics, experience, motives and attitudes so there should be nothing surprising that a person who is very brave in one situation is afraid in another.  And yet, that ideal of the Medieval Knight says the brave person should be afraid of nothing. It lingers in our imaginations.

My Dad was a boxer. He wasn't afraid of facing another man and fighting with his fists. His last fight was in a warehouse with a 30-year-old truck driver who took a swing at him. Dad was 62 years old. He knocked the younger man out.  Yet Dad was afraid of doctors and hospitals.  I lost every fist fight I was in and love hosptials.

Recently, I was talking to a friend about his recent trip to several countries in Europe.  He had a seven-hour layover in Helsinki and decided to go and see the city.  

I could never do that. Ride the Alps and Pyrenees and hills in Israel above 50mph on descents--awesome.  Leave the airport and have to pass back through security and customs?  Not me. I would be worried the moment I left the security area. 

Riding across Paris in traffic is pure excitement. I don't imagine what could go wrong.  But dealing with bureaucracy, I can't easily imagine things going right. 

Is it years in the Army that makes me distrust bureaucracy? I don't know.  Nothing in my childhood could have done it.  Until I flew to Basic training at 18 years old, I had never been in an airplane.  Our family never traveled further from Boston that a couple of trips to Cleveland, Ohio. 

On the other hand, I have a fear of needles that is physical and deep. I don't look at needles when I get IVs and blood drawn. But that fear is straight out of childhood.  In the basement of our home was this horrible torture device.

Vintage Singer Sewing Machine and Terror Device

One day, I was alone in the basement and stepped on the treadle of this terrifying machine, got the wheel spinning fast then (I have no idea why) slid the first finger of my five-year-old right hand into the path of that needle.  I screamed. So when my guts tighten up for a routine blood draw, I know where it comes from.  

I walked to my most recent bone-repair surgery feeling really happy. I was going to see old friends who had treated me before.  And walked home just as happy.  But I did not look at the needles during my stay the hospital.