About a week and a half ago, Jeanne d’Arc (”Body and Soul”) wrote an eloquent essay about the new pope’s World War II past — and his current response to that past — provocatively titled “The German Shepherd and the Salvadoran Pastor.” However, while it is nicely written, I disagree with it.
Ms. d’Arc contrasts what she believes is Ratzinger’s misevaluation of his past with the story of Oscar Romero, the beloved Salvadoran archbishop who was gunned down in San Salvador 25 years ago by a right wing death squad. Romero had been giving a sermon calling for soldiers to disobey orders violating human rights; he was a brave man, and he was a hero. Jeanne d’Arc contrasts this with Ratzinger:
Joseph Ratzinger became a member of the Hitler Youth in 1941, at the age of 14, the year that joining became compulsory. Two years later — at only 16, a child soldier — he was drafted and served in an anti-aircraft unit which guarded a BMW factory that used slave labor from Dachau. … He was later sent to Hungary, and returned to Bavaria in 1944 , which is when he deserted. [the desertion happened five months later, in spring 1945 -- ed.]
To recap: a 14-year old is involuntarily drafted into the youth wing of what might be the most ferocious military and police state in human experience. Two years later, he is drafted into actual military service. He complies. Not blindingly heroic, it’s true. But he was a boy, for crying out loud, and certainly nothing suggests* he was part of any crimes.
Finally, at 18, under a Nazi regime in the end stage toxicity of 1945, the very young man screws up his courage and deserts. And to desert the German armed forces was no small thing. From an Alan Paterson report** for the Independent:
…[Ratzinger] suddenly decided to leave his unit, knowing full well that SS units had orders to shoot deserters on sight. He recorded his terror when, after deserting his unit, he was stopped by other soldiers: “Thank God they were the ones who had enough of war and did not want to become murderers,” he wrote in his memoirs.
Ms. d’Arc compares the young Ratzinger’s actions to the (without question noble) behavior of an adult Salvadoran archbishop. But as fearsome and ruthless as Romero’s opponents were, he knew that they would either hesitate to kill an acting archbishop, or pay a lasting price in public opinion if they did.
Young Ratzinger, by contrast, ran the very real risk of being summarily executed — and then simply forgotten like thousands of other deserters who suffered that fate in late World War II Nazi Germany.*** While his pointless death might have pleased some stern anti-Nazi sensibilities sixty years later, I feel greater empathy for the 16-, then 17-, then 18-year old’s indecision.
Look at him. Multiply him by a thousand, or ten thousand. Then take your leave of him, dead by a roadside or slumped against a courtyard wall, a child who had a gun thrust into his hands, who was sacrificed by his benighted society whether he died for the sin of being a deserter or for the one of being a soldier. You blame the child? You require penance, regrets, or humility of his surviving boy-comrades in arms, just for being there? Of course not. You know they deserve your pity and your love, not your condemnation..
I hold no brief at all for Cardinal Ratzinger, now become Pope Benedict XVI. I think his opinions on homosexuality alone — indeed and especially his opinions on ‘unsurprising’ persecution of homosexuality alone — are both bigoted and strangely unprincipled for someone who claims to stand against “moral relativism.” But while I understand the temptation to draw parallels between his choices now and those he made as a boy sixty years ago, I think that is likely untrue and unjust.
This may seem to miss Ms. d’Arc’s point. In the critical argument of her essay, she takes issue with Ratzinger’s statement (as quoted in a biography by John L. Allen, Jr.) that resistance was “impossible.” The contrast between this fatalism and Romero’s heroism is the wellspring of d’Arc’s essay. She writes,
Nevertheless, I think talking about the pope’s past is — from a moral, if not a political standpoint — not only fair, but essential, because the way he interprets that experience says a lot about the direction the hierarchy of the Catholic Church is moving in…
Certainly talking about the pope’s past is fair and essential. But if Jeanne d’Arc’s comparison and analysis fails, I think her conclusions fail with it. And it does fail. To contrast the decisions of an unknown minor with those of an adult archbishop can’t do otherwise. Ms. d’Arc writes:
Failing to exhibit extraordinary courage is human and understandable. Denying the extraordinarily courageous their due is shameful. Denying moral agency is surely unworthy of a man who would be pope. The Ratzingers lie about this because if they admit that moral choices were involved, they’d have to explain their choice.
But does Ratzinger do this? Only if he meant that what was impossible for him was impossible for everyone. But in the Times of London article Ms. d’Arc cites, that’s not really what his brother Georg was implying:
“Resistance was truly impossible,” Georg Ratzinger said. “Before we were conscripted, one of our teachers said we should fight and become heroic Nazis and another told us not to worry as only one soldier in a thousand was killed.
“Before we were conscripted….”; “One of our teachers…”; “we should fight…” — to me, these are explanations of the choices of two schoolboys, not sweeping dismissals of the possibilities open to adults, with adult appreciations of what was at stake.
Are we now demanding children’s crusades, or do we still decry them? Yet if you do not demand them, what remaining relevance does the child’s reaction to oppression have to the adult’s opinions?
To acknowledge why I bother with defending someone I don’t like all that much, I should say that I have (or had; they’re all dead now, and I miss them) uncles and a grandfather who served in the German military during World War II. One in particular, Uncle L, was in a similar position to Ratzinger’s, as I understand it, since he was drafted as a teenager into the pitiful last ditch militia called the Volkssturm during the final months of the war.
I’m glad he didn’t refuse or get himself executed as a deserter, or I’d not have come to know him, his children, or, someday, theirs. He never owed the world an explanation, much less an apology, nor even a passing regret for being drafted as a boy to fight a tyrant’s war — his elders owed him one for letting that happen. That would be the case no matter what his opinions and actions were later on.
Ms. D’Arc’s essay eventually gets where she wants to go: preferring Romero’s vision of a church fighting injustice over Ratzinger’s vision of one focused on upholding tradition. For what little it’s worth, I’d prefer Romero’s vision, too, if I were Catholic. But that has nothing to do with Ratzinger’s teenage military career, because he bore no responsibility for his situation. Absolutely none.
Judging by the responses to “The German Shepherd and the Salvadoran Pastor,” it is right and meet and even “courageous” to pronounce any given Hitler Youth morally suspect for joining a mandatory organization, to ask of the later adult “[d]oubt, hesitation, awareness of one’s own fallibility,” and to require that he retroactively discover possibilities for schoolboy resistance that were not apparent to him at the time. Even if that means demanding of a teenage boy judgment, independence and heroism that are all too rare in adults. And even if that boy seems to have passed his own test of courage soon enough.
As I said, I disagree. So while Ms. d’Arc has received many accolades for her essay, this is not one of them.
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* The Wikipedia entry for Benedict XVI cautions that “Nearly all information on Ratzinger’s wartime activities goes uncorroborated, sourced in Ratzinger’s own memoirs and accounts from his brother, Georg.” That said, I’ve come across no quarrels with the detailed account Ratzinger provided.
** As reproduced on a Jamaica Star message board. Paterson wrongly implies the desertion happened in 1944.
*** Armageddon: The Battle for Germany, 1944-1945, Max Hastings, p.168: “In the last months of the war, there was a drastic increase in court-martial sentences on delinquent German soldiers. Beyond 15,000 recorded executions — and many more unrecorded — tens of thousands of men were dispatched to penal battalions, where the possibility of survival was no higher than in their Soviet equivalents (I.e., nil — ed.). A total of 44,955 men were sent for trial in October 1944 alone, and many of these received long sentences at hard labour.” An endnote suggests the 44,955 figure may be an underestimate.
UPDATE, 5/3: Billmon contrasted Ratzinger with the members of the White Rose — a group of Munich students and supporters (most prominently Sophie and Hans Scholl and Christoph Probst) who were arrested for boldly leafleting against the Nazi regime, and executed for treason in February, 1943. As with Archbishop Romero, these were wholly admirable, heroic men and women who should be a model to us all. But as with Romero, the comparison with Ratzinger founders on the issue of age: these students were in their 20s, Ratzinger was a boy and a teenager. In other ways, Ratzinger was similar: Hans Scholl had been in Hitler Youth, and both he and Christoph Probst had served in the German military.