1
PROTESTANTISM IN NAZI GERMANY
At the 1927 Königsberg Protestant Church Congress, Paul Althaus gave a rousing and groundbreaking keynote address on Kirche und Volkstum (Church and Nationality). In it, he offered a carefully constructed new political theology that railed against a âforeign invasionâ (Ăberfremdung) in the areas of the arts, fashion, and finance, which he believed had led to a disintegration of the national community (Volksgemeinschaft). The present distress of the German Volk, he charged, was due to the âJewish threat.â The churchâs attempts to penetrate the Volk with the Gospel were opposed by âJewish influenceâ in economics, the press, the arts, and literature. Althaus had captured perceptively the mood of Weimar Protestants and provided theological legitimacy for völkisch (nationalistic) thinking in their ranks.
Althaus was one of the most prominent and prolific theologians of the late Weimar and Nazi eras. His carefully constructed doctrine of the âorders of creationâ influenced large numbers of German Protestants during late Weimar and the Third Reich. The importance of this innovative theological construct during the Nazi era, its consequences for German Protestant ideology, as well as the influence of its progenitor, require careful examination, which I will undertake shortly. First, however, a few words are in order about some key interpretive issues, the evolution of antisemitism in modern Germany, and some important developments in German Protestantism during the 1920s and 1930s.
Issues of Interpretation
Antisemitism, Anti-Judaism, and Modernity
As I noted in the introduction, scholars who study the history of anti-Jewish hatred often disagree about just what constitutes âantisemitism.â Reformation historian Heiko Oberman, for example, distinguished between antisemitism as racially motivated hatred and âanti-Judaismâ as hatred motivated by theological conviction. Even so, he recognized the âcrossovers and points of transgressionâ between the two. Many others have made similar distinctions.1
Nineteenth-century French Jewish intellectual and early Zionist Bernard Lazare maintained that the term antisemitism may only be applied to pre-nineteenth-century events and attitudes anachronistically, given that the term originated with Wilhelm Marr in the last third of the nineteenth century in Germany. Lazare generally used the term anti-Judaism to describe theologically based hatred for Jews as it existed in the late medieval and Reformation periods. He usually employed the terms modern anti-Semitism and ethnological anti-Semitism to denote the form that primarily encompasses racial and/or nationalistic overtones.2
Hannah Arendt forcefully argued that antisemitism and âJew-hatredâ are two different yet related ideologies. She regarded as âfallaciousâ the idea of an âunbroken continuity of persecutions, expulsions and massacresâ that is âfrequently embellished by the idea that modern antisemitism is no more than a secularised version of popular medieval superstitions.â She also linked the decline of âtraditional nationalismâ and the âprecarious balance of powerâ of European nation-states to the proportional rise in âmodernâ antisemitism.3 Arendtâs approach thus reflects a very common distinction between a traditional Christian anti-Judaism and a modern, more secular version of anti-Jewish hatred called antisemitism.4
I argued in the introduction that the strict distinction between pre-modern and modern kinds of anti-Jewish hatred should give way to a more nuanced approach. Langmuirâs typology, which stresses the fluidity of modes of thought within and across historical eras rather than supposedly static ways of thinking over centuries-long historical periods, can provide this nuance. Some caveats and clarifications about my application of Langmuirâs theory are necessary.
First, I do not seek to apply slavishly his theory of history, religion, and antisemitism in its totality here, but rather to appropriate dynamically its most salient argument in the arena of German Protestant theology in the 1930s and 1940s. He has a great deal to say about history and religion that I will not address here. He distinguishes, for example, between religion as âthe most enduring and general social expression of nonrational thoughtâ and religiosity as âthe most enduring form of individual nonrational thinking.â Religion and religiosity are thus both products of nonrational thinking.5 I find this distinction both helpful and well reasoned. Yet, it will not find its way into this work in any significant way.
Second, with Langmuir, I do not think it correct to limit the presence of antisemitism to the last third of the nineteenth century and forward, as do those who accept Marrâs coinage of the term as their absolute point of departure for the historical phenomenon of antisemitism. This is not to deny that such modern phenomena as âpolitical antisemitismâ and âantisemitism as a cultural codeâ are valid historical frameworks.6 Though I will not attempt to do so here, Langmuirâs approach can be integrated with these constructions.
Third, Langmuir also defined xenophobic assertions as âpropositions that grammatically attribute a socially menacing conduct to an outgroup and all its members but are empirically based only on the conduct of a historical minority of the members. . . .â7 One example of this phenomenon is the association of Jews with usury. While a small number of sixteenth-century Jews were in fact guilty of usury, the use of the terms Jew and usurer as synonymous, which was prevalent at the time, qualifies as xenophobia.8 Many twentieth-century German Protestants utilized such xenophobic assertions as well, but often these only served to augment nonrational and irrational thinking about Jews.
One might conclude that Langmuir simply replaced the idea of religious anti-Judaism with nonrational anti-Judaism, or that racial antisemitism correlates neatly with irrational thought about Jews. This would be a misunderstanding of Langmuirâs schema. The notion of âracialâ antisemitism should be viewed as a modern subset of irrational antisemitism. Other forms of irrational antisemitism include the predominant anti-Jewish accusations of the medieval period, including ritual murder and host desecration. âReligiousâ hatred of Jews correlates even less directly to nonrational anti-Judaism than does âracialâ antisemitism to irrational antisemitism. âReligiousâ or âtheologicalâ writings about Jews have often intermingled both nonrational and irrational forms of thought. We will observe many examples of this in chapters three through six.
It is Langmuirâs emphasis on typology (the various employments of rationality, nonrationality, and irrationality) that distinguishes it from the essentially chronological usage (modern âracialâ antisemitism vs. pre-modern âreligiousâ anti-Judaism). The typological approach works better because of its appropriate muddying of the chronological waters and its emphasis upon the presence (or absence) of human reason. Despite varying historical situations, mixed motives for anti-Jewish hatred have long existed in Christian theological writings. As we will see, anti-Judaic and antisemitic ideas about Jews existed side-by-side in both Lutherâs writings and in those of many German Protestants living during the late Weimar and Nazi eras.
âMinorâ Texts and Conventional Wisdom
Peter L. Berger and Thomas Luckmann, arguing for the âsocial construction of reality,â declare, âOnly a very limited group of people in any society engages in theorizing, in the business of âideas,â and the construction of Weltanschauungen [worldviews]. But everyone in society participates in its âknowledgeâ in one way or another.â9 We will later examine separate subgroups of Nazi-era German Protestantsâacademic theologians, pastors, and bishops from the Confessing Church, the German Christians, and the Protestant middleâeach of whom read and interpreted Lutherâs anti-Jewish texts in a shared social context.
Since ideas tend to be passed on through socially constructed institutions, my analysis will proceed with an eye to the social context. I will concentrate on clergy and theologians who shaped ideas within German Protestantism, butâin keeping with Skinnerâs stress on minor as opposed to classic textsâinclude mainly âlesserâ figures from a variety of regions and church-political factions.
I will present a number of socially situated case studies to advance the history of the ideas about Jews and Judaism present in Lutherâs writings as they were interpreted and passed on by German Protestant clergy and theologians in Nazi Germany. This emphasis on texts is intentional, as I am convinced that the transmission of ideasâespecially as it occurs among âminorâ rather than âclassicâ figuresâhas not been applied rigorously enough to Protestant pastors and theologians in Nazi Germany in the English language literature on the subject.10
Despite their general categorization as âminorâ figures, the clergy and periodicals consulted are not confined to one region, but represent a fairly significant portion of the Protestant population across Germany in the 1930s. The total circulation of German Christian periodicals overseen by German Christian press superintendent Heinz Dungs (see chapter five) was over 100,000 by 1941. In part because of the bans imposed by the Reich Press Chamber (see chapter four), figures for Confessing Church publications are much harder to ascertain.
Langmuirâs stress upon the importance of nonrational expression to anti-Judaic thinking and irrational expression to antisemitic thought, Skinnerâs emphasis on minor texts, and Berger and Luckmannâs concern for the sociological nature of knowledge will form important aspects of the interpretative framework of this book. The socially contextualized case study will be the primary method utilized throughout.
Antisemitism in Germany between 1871 and 1945
Historian Shulamit Volkov writes
With piercing clarity, she continues that historians
I am attempting here, as I have already mentioned, to contribute to the long-term and ongoing discussion about continuity and discontinuity in the history of antisemitism and anti-Judaism, particularly of the varieties found in Germany in the first half of the sixteenth century and in the first half of the twentieth century.
Yet, for obvious reasonsânot the least of which being that I will examine works written mainly by individuals who experienced their formative years during the Wilhelmine eraâthe best place to begin situating both their personal history and thought is in the Kaiserreich. Their experiences and modes of thinking during the Nazi era were both rooted in the past and unique to the mores and vagaries of the uneasy waning years of the Weimar Republic and the ascent, rule, and demise of the Nazi regime. We will discover here, in some measure, a perspective on the right balance between continuity and break in German Protestant writings about Luther, Jews, and Judaism.
Antisemitism as a Cultural Code
One of the most influential contributions to the historiography of antisemitism in Imperial Germany is Shulamit Volkovâs offering in the 1978 Leo Baeck Institute Yearbook, titled âAntisemitism as a Cultural Code.â Volkov makes several acute observations there that will be invaluable for situating the social and intellectual context for those years that were formative for most of the individuals discussed in this book.
Volkov recognizes first of all the centrality of continuity to the discussion of antisemitism in Germany during the modern period but rejects the outdated notion of conceiving of modern antisemitism as âyet another manifestation of âeternal hatred. . . .ââ Paul Massing and Peter G. J. Pulzer both emphasized a ânew departureâ in the history of antisemitism in Germany with the emergence of political antisemitism in the 1870s. This period of political antisemitis...