Eugenio Pacelli and the Zionists

New discoveries in the Vatican Secret Archives confi rm that the man who became Pope Pius XII intervened in favor of the Jewish settlers in Palestine. © 2009 by Michael Hesemann CSC No Pope of the twentieth century, with the exemption of John Paul II and maybe Pius XI, so openly showed his love for the Jewish people as Pius XII. Th is makes it even more incomprehensible that no historical evidence but just a stage play was enough to change and even pervert the public image of this great pontiff . Suddenly he became “Th e Deputy,” “the Pope who remained silent,” or even “Hitler’s Pope,” with authors like John Cornwell or Daniel Jonah Goldhagen calling him a latent or even open anti-Semite. Th e only reason is that during World War II and the Holocaust, Pius XII considered it wiser to act than to speak out. He preferred to save as many Jews as possible quietly rather than worsen their situation through loud but useless protests. He tried to avoid anything that would endanger the effi ciency of the only institution, which was able and willing to help the persecuted Jews in the times of the Shoah, the Catholic Church. His apparent silence, his feigned neutrality became the perfect cover for the biggest help—and rescue campaign in history, when more than 850,000 Jews were protected from the certain death in the Nazi gas chambers. But he who wants to understand the man Eugenio Pacelli must look further back into his past. Already in his adolescence, he had a Jewish school friend, whose parents invited him to join their weekly Shabbat celebrations, discussed their faith with him, and lent him the works of important Jewish philosophers, which he read with enthusiasm. After he studied theology and canon law and underwent his ordination, Pacelli accepted a job in the secretary of state of the Holy See. He made a rapid career and was promoted undersecretary of the “Congregation for Extraordinary Ecclesiastical Aff airs,” the papal “State Department,” in 1911. In this position, in May 1917, he came in contact with the Zionist movement. Nahum Sokolow, author, journalist, and board member of the Zionist World Congress, came to Rome to gain support for the plan of a Jewish state in Palestine. Th at Pope Benedict XV (1914–22) had vehemently condemned anti- Semitism a year before was seen as a good omen. Cardinal Secretary of State Pietro Gasparri sent him to Monsignor Pacelli who received him in a friendly mood and took the time to listen to him with patience and great personal interest. Later, in his report to the executive committee of the Zionists, Sokolow praised the heartfelt openness he experienced during his meeting with the monsignor. And he admitted that he was completely surprised when Pacelli asked him, in the most friendly way, if he would not like to present his issue to the Pope. Sokolow would have never dreamt that this would be possible for a Jew. But then, on May 6, 1917, he was received for forty-fi ve minutes—longer than many heads of state—by Benedict XV. “I don’t tend towards credulity or exaggerations,” Sokolow assured on May 12 in his report to the Zionists executive committee, “and still I can’t avoid to stress that this revealed an extraordinary amount of friendship: to grant a Jew and representative of Zionism with such a promptness a private audience which took so long and was of such a warmth and took place with all assurance of sympathy, both for the Jews in general and for Zionism in special, proves that we don’t need to expect any obstacles which can’t be overcome from the side of the Vatican.” In a completely informal way, the Pope asked Sokolow to explain him the program of Zionism just to assure him that “is a wonderful idea” and “providential. God willed it.” Also in the question of the Christian sanctuaries in Palestine, the Pope had “no doubts that a satisfactorily agreement will be reached.” When Sokolow obviously reached the fulfi llment of his wildest dreams, Benedict XV released him by repeating several times, as a confi rmation, the words “Yes, I believe we will be good neighbors.” Only a week after this encounter, in the Sistine Chapel, Eugenio Pacelli was ordained as an archbishop by Benedict XV. Another week later, he already sat in a train on the way to his new destination, Germany. Th e Pope had made him his new Nuntius in Munich, the only Nuntiature in Germany. His fi rst mission was to present a Papal Peace Plan to the government of the Imperial Reich in Berlin, to end the senseless slaughter of World War I—unfortunately without any success. About another and this time successful intervention of the new Nuntius Pacelli during that time, the Israeli historian and diplomat Pinchas Lapide wrote in his book Th e Last Th ree Popes and the Jews (1967). In the Zionist Archive in Jerusalem, Lapide had located a copy of an offi cial letter, sent by Pacelli as Nuntius in Munich to the Bavarian secretary of state, Otto Ritter von Dandl, on November 16, 1917: “Th e undersigned Apostolic Nuntius has the honour to inform Your Excellency that the Israelite Congregations of Switzerland asked the Holy Father to appeal for the protection of the sites and the Jewish population of Jerusalem. His Eminence, the Cardinal Secretary of State had ordered the undersigned to act accordingly and with all care and to draw this subject to the attention of the Imperial Government. Th e Undersigned requests from Your Excellency to enforce the realization of this purpose with everything in your capacity. In advance gratefully, signing with the assurance of my highest appreciation, . . . Eugenio Pacelli, Archbishop of Sardes, Apostolic Nuntius.” Th e Jews had all reason to be worried. Th e Ottoman Empire—modern-day Turkey—was an ally of the Reich and England had instigated the Arabian rebellion to force it into a two-frontline war. Th e Turks suspected the Jews were collaborating with the British. After the Turkish genocide against the Armenians, who were believed to be on the side of the Russians, they could expect the worst. In April 1915, the Turkish secretary of war, Enver Pasha, ordered the deportation of great parts of the Armenian population of the Ottoman Empire into the Syrian Desert. What was offi cially declared a strategically necessary “evacuation” of a politically unreliable minority turned out to be the fi rst great genocide of the twentieth century. Th e Young Turk movement, which had taken over political power, intended to transform the multiethnic Ottoman Empire into a national state according to the Panturkish ideology, which left no room for the Christian Armenians. Genocide became the fi nal solution of this minority problem. Its executive became the commander in chief and gouverneur of Syria, General Cemal Pasha. In total, the number of victims exceeded 1.5 million. Some became victims of the Turkish massacres; most were forced into the Syrian Desert where they died of thirst, starvation, exhaustion, or diseases. In 1917, Cemal Pasha turned brutally against the Jewish-Zionist settlements in Palestine. After Jewish settlers in Jaff a were accused of collaboration with the British, the Ottoman gouverneur ordered their deportation. Over eight thousand Jews were expelled from their houses without permission to take any of their belongings or even food. In front of their eyes, their houses were looted by the Turks. Outside the Jewish quarters, two Jews were hanged as a warning for all who dared to resist the looters. Eyewitnesses reported about the excessive cruelty of the soldiers. Later, dozens of Jews were found dead in the dunes of Jaff a. By the end of March 1917, the “Reuters” news agency reported that “masses of Jews” were expelled “to share the fate of the Armenians.” A report of the Zionist offi ce in Copenhagen ends with the warning that after the threats of Cemal Pasha, the Jews of Palestine could indeed expect the same treatment as the Armenians—being sent into the desert to die of thirst, starvation, and epidemics. On May 7, 1917, the German member of Parliament Oskar Cohn brought the anti-Jewish violence in Palestine on the agenda of the Reichstag in Berlin. Only one day later, Deputy Secretary Arthur Zimmermann of the State Department played the matter down. He called the order to evacuate Jaff a a mere “protective measure.” Furthermore, the government of the Reich had no interest to get involved into aff airs, which were solely in the responsibility of the Turkish forces. Obviously, it did intend to bother Germany’s Ottoman ally. Th is makes the intervention of the Apostolic Nuntius, quoted by Pinchas Lapide, even more signifi cant. Unfortunately, at least as far as I know, no other historian ever tried to investigate and verify it. Cornwell and company completely ignored the incident, since it does not fi t into their claim of Pacelli being an anti-Semite. Th e majority of the defenders of Pius XII either just quote Lapide or concentrate on his position toward National Socialism. Instead, the Pacelli-debunkers simply question Lapide’s credibility. Without any reason, still, since he backs all his quotes with perfect citations, as this one, too. Th e quoted document, Lapide states, can be found on “Microfi lm K 179 90 293 in the Zionist Central Archive, Jerusalem.” I trust Lapide, but still prefer to verify. I soon had the opportunity, when in November 2008, I was granted permission to do research in the Vatican Secret Archive. After I wrote a biography on Pius XII, Th e Pope who Defi ed Hitler, I wanted to learn more about Pacelli’s position toward the Jews and his dealings with anti-Semitism and National Socialism. Th e verifi cation of the incident quoted by Lapide had a prominent position on my wish list. After I introduced myself to the prefect of the “Archivio Secreto,” Bishop Sergio Pagano, my work in the “Sala Studio,” the study room of the Archive, began. Th e complete inventory of the Vatican Secret Archive—at least until 1939—are catalogued. If you want to study one of the fi les, you fi rst have to go through these voluminous catalogues, before one of the friendly co-workers gets the fi le for you. In one of these catalogues, which carefully lists the inventory of the “Archive of the Nuntiature Munich/Bavaria,” I found the promising entry: “Guerra Europ., Palestina # 1. Pop. Giudaica e della Citta Santa della Palestina”—“World War I, Palestine # 1, Jewish Population and those of the Holy City of Palestine.” After I wrote down the fi le title and number (Arch. Nunz. Monaco d.b. 385; Fasc. 2: Pos. XIII), I asked for it. I was not disappointed. Indeed not only did it contain Pacelli’s handwritten draft for the letter quoted by Lapide, but I also learned more about the background of this intervention. On November 15, 1917, at 4:30 p.m., the papal cardinal secretary of state, Pietro Gasparri, sent an encoded message to the Nuntius Pacelli in Munich, which was received and decoded it on the next morning at seven thirty. It stated: “Th e Israelite Community of Switzerland asked the Holy Father to commit himself to the protection of the sites and the Jewish population of Jerusalem. He asks Your Excellency through us, to infl uence the German government accordingly in the name of the Holy Father. Card. Gasparri.” Th e decision to delegate this diffi cult aff air to Pacelli was wise indeed. It was more than questionable if an intervention by the Pope himself would have any impact in Constantinople. Only Germany as their most important ally was able to stop the Turks from performing a massacre. Th at Pacelli always had an open ear for Jewish aff airs he had already demonstrated when he met the Zionist leader Sokolow. Indeed, Pacelli immediately acted. Still, it was a rather diffi cult aff air. At that time, no diplomatic relationship existed between the Emperor’s Germany and the Holy See. Th e only Nuntiature on German soil was the one in Munich, the capital of the still semi-independent Kingdom of Bavaria. Any diplomatic approach had to go through the Bavarian government. Th erefore, Pacelli presented his case on November 16, 1917, to the Royal Bavarian secretary of state, Sir Otto Ritter von Dandl, and urgently requested an intervention of the Imperial State Department. Th is time, unlike half a year before, the Berlin State Department acted. Eleven days later, on November 27, 1917, we fi nd the following note in their fi le “Jews in Turkey.” According to the reply they received from Constantinople, “there is no reason to fear that the Turkish authorities in Palestine order measures against the Jewish population. We learned from the Turkish side that the Holy City and all sites which are subject of Christian and Jewish veneration are spared and respected as far as the military necessities by all means allow.” Consequently, the German government declared two days later: “According to the available information from the Turkish side, care was already taken for the protection of the holy sites of Jerusalem which are also subject of veneration by the Muslims and also for the population. Of course this includes the Jews, who don’t have to fear any exemptions.” Eventually, Ritter von Dandl reported to the Apostolic Nuntius on December 8, 1917: “Your Excellency allow me to reply to your precious note of the 16th of last month and to inform you that I did not miss to bring the request of the Israelite Communities of Switzerland regarding the protection of the sites and the Jewish population of Jerusalem to the attention of the State Department in Berlin. With regard to this, I received the reply that according to the information received, there was no reason to worry that the Turkish authorities apply any measures against the Jewish population.” Only three days later, on December 11, 1917, the British Forces under command of General Allenby conquered Jerusalem. Th e Jews of Palestine could indeed feel relieved. According to Pinchas Lapide, the intervention of the Nuntius Pacelli contributed to “save the Jews of Jerusalem as well as the holy sites from an almost certain doom.” It was even more signifi cant, since at that time, the Turkish troops in Palestine were under command of a German general, Erich von Falkenhayn. About him, his biographer Holger Affl erbach stated: “An inhuman excess against the Jews in Palestine was only prevented through Falkenhayn’s conduct, which has a special signifi cance in respect to the German history of the 20th century.” Since von Falkenhayn was a man who strictly followed orders, it is reasonable to assume that his “conduct” was ordered from Berlin. Indeed, Pinchas Lapide quotes a letter written by Dr. Jacob Th on, at that time leader of the Zionist offi ce in Jerusalem, in December 1917: “It was an special stroke of good fortune that in the last critical days General von Falkenhayn had the command. Cemal Pasha in this case—as he announced often enough—would have expelled the whole population and turned the country into ruins. We and the whole population, Christians as well as Muslims, must remember P.(acelli) with deep gratitude, since he saved the civil population from doom when he prevented the planned evacuation of this area.” Nine years later, in December 1926, in Berlin the “Deutsches Komitee Pro Palästina zur Förderung der jüdischen Palästina-Siedlung” (German Committee Pro Palestine to Support the Jewish Settlement in Palestine) was founded. Among the founding members were Albert Einstein, the president of the Reichstag (Speaker of the House) Paul Loebe, the Cologne major (and post-WWII chancellor) Konrad Adenauer, and the novelist and Nobel Prize laureate Th omas Mann. Th e question arose if it was an opportune time for prominent Catholics to join this initiative. During the vehement discussion of the Balfour Declaration at the League of Nations the idea of a Jewish state was controversial in Catholic circles. Th e socialist ideas of some Zionists led to irritations in the Vatican. Its organ, the “Osservatore Romano,” on June 1, 1922, called for “the protection of the holy sites against Jewish bolshevism.” At that time, the Holy See had already established diplomatic relations to the fi rst German democracy, the Weimar Republic, and Pacelli resided as the fi rst Apostolic Nuntius in Berlin. As Pinchas Lapide stresses, he “represented during that period the position of Pro Palestine.” He explicitly refused the Zionism-skepticism of leading Vatican circles and instead not only pleaded in favor of the Jewish settlements but even encouraged prominent German Catholics to join the initiative supporting them. Even Pacelli’s closest friend, the Reichstag member and Catholic prelate, Dr. Ludwig Kaas, became a board member of this committee. How deep his sympathy was for the Zionists is revealed in the memoirs of the German Zionist Kurt Blumenfeld. In his autobiography, Living the Jewish Question (1962), he describes how Nahum Sokolow, who was indebted to Pacelli for his papal audience in 1917, visited Berlin in 1926. Sokolow at this point served as the president of all Zionist Congresses. When he planned a new initiative at the League of Nations, he remembered the former undersecretary of the Papal State Department. His plan was to ask Pacelli for an instruction to the representative of the Holy See at the League of Nations in Geneve. But when Blumenfeld called the Nuntiature to set up an appointment, he learned that Pacelli was severely ill, staying in the Hedwig Hospital in Berlin and was momentarily not available. Only when he eventually mentioned the name “Sokolow,” he was called back: His Excellency, the Nuntius, would be delighted to see Mr. Sokolow for fi ve minutes. Together Blumenfeld and Sokolow drove to the hospital. At the front desk, the doctor in charge welcomed them but insisted: “Mr. Sokolow alone and just for fi ve minutes.” Blumenfeld walked in the hospital library and started to read a book. After one and a half hours, Sokolow returned. “It was obvious how interesting and uplifting the conversation with the Nuntius was, a discussion of historical questions, Jewish as well as Catholic,” Blumenfeld remembered. Once again, the man who became Pope Pius XII proved to be a friend who always had an open ear for the aff airs and problems of Jews. *Michael Hesemann is a German historian and author. In 2008, his book Th e Pope Who Defi ed Hitler: Th e Truth About Pius XII was published in Germany. An Italian translation will follow soon. Source: Pope Pius XII and World War II: The Documented Truth