Letter to Jay 13/10/2001

The doctrine of Just War assumes that those who declare and promote it will do so in the context of some kind of ethical framework. Even then, Christians can find that they are called on to challenge what is happening, despite the personal cost to them. The Churchill Government’s policy of bombing German cities was criticised by the then Bishop of Chichester, George Bell, and his comments brought him much unpopularity. Yet what happens in situations where the state is working to entirely different rules? Austria in 1943 provides one example. The country had been absorbed into Germany in the Anschluss of 1938, and was governed by a regime whose policies included genocide.

Franz Jagerstatter was born in 1907, in a small town in Austria, and received only a basic education at the local school. He did, however, learn to read and write, and when he subsequently became a serious believer, he would set aside time for reading the Bible and other spiritual works. He also left behind a small but moving set of essays and letters from prison. He served as sexton in his parish church, in which capacity he was wont to refuse the customary donations for conducting funeral services, preferring to join with the bereaved rather act as a paid official. He became used to receiving Holy Communion on a daily basis. Although he was not teetotal, he stopped going to taverns because he found that he got into arguments – and even into fights – through his ardent disapproval of Nazism. He cast the only vote in his neighbourhood against the Anschluss, and he subsequently refused government money for his family, even though he and they sorely needed it. He gave charitably, even though, as a small farmer, he was poor himself. Around 1936, he wrote to his godchild: “I can say from my own experience how painful life is when one lives as a halfway Christian; it is more like vegetating than living. Since the death of Christ, almost every century has seen the persecution of Christians; there have always been heroes and martyrs who gave their lives – often in horrible ways – for Christ and their faith. If we hope to reach our goal one day, then we, too must become heroes of the faith”.

The time came when Jagerstatter had to decide whether he should allow himself to be drafted into the German army. His spiritual advisers, including at least three priests and a bishop, gave him two main reasons why he should not resist: he had to consider his family, and he should obey the legitimate authorities, who themselves were liable to judgement for what they had done. He clearly understood his position: “Everyone tells me, of course, that I should not do what I am doing because of the danger of death. I believe it is better to sacrifice one’s life right away than to place oneself in the grave danger of committing sin and then dying.” He decided that he could not allow himself to support what he felt was an evil regime, even though he knew that his stand would make absolutely no difference to its programme. He declined to join up, and was duly imprisoned, first in Linz-an-der-Donau, where Hitler and Eichman had lived as children, and later in Berlin. Upon arrival there, he was delighted to find a copy of St John Crysostom’s sermons among the prison books. He came under further pressure from family and friends to change his mind, but he refused to do so, and he was beheaded on 9^th August 1943. The prison chaplain in Berlin recalled that Jagerstatter had declined even a New Testament, saying that “I am completely bound in inner union with the Lord, and any reading would only interrupt my communication with my God”. The chaplain later said of him “I can say with certainty that this simple man is the only saint I have ever met in my lifetime”.

Jagerstatter’s witness has to be seen in the context of a life that reflected a Christian commitment of considerable depth. Right intention is as important in the promotion of peace as in the conduct of war. It has also to be seen in the light of what we now know about subsequent events. If he had allowed himself to be drafted, he would have come under the authority of those who would later be hanged as war criminals. He might even have found himself pleading – as Eichman did – that he was only obeying orders: few people – Christians included – would accept that as a valid defence. Yet most of those who knew him felt he was mad, and his story was forgotten as the years went by. In the 1960s, an American, Gordon Zahn, came across it whilst researching German Catholics’ response to Hitler, and wrote a book, “In Solitary Witness”, which was published in 1967. The title is a reminder that few of Jagerstatter’s compatriots were inclined to follow his example. The book was however to make a considerable impression on another American, Daniel Ellsberg, and influenced his decision to bring the Pentagon Papers to public attention as part of his stand against the ongoing war in Vietnam.

“But whosoever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father which is in heaven. Think not that I am come to send peace on earth: I came not to send peace, but a sword. For I am come to set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter against her mother, and the daughter in law against her mother in law. And a man's foes shall be they of his own household”. (Mt 10:33-36). Paradoxically, although Jesus brings peace, only those who are obedient to him are worthy to receive it, and to be among them, we must sometimes be willing to be separated from those we love most, even from life itself. A just war is one that is fought within limits, such as having clear and achievable objectives, and using only such force as is necessary to effect them. If it ever becomes apparent that this is not the case, and those in authority are unwilling to alter their ways, then individual Christians may find themselves challenged by Jagerstatter’s example. He himself puts the argument with characteristic clarity:

“Just as the man who thinks only of this world does everything possible to make life here easier and better, so must we, too, who believe in the eternal Kingdom, risk everything in order to achieve a great reward there. Just as those who believe in National Socialism tell themselves that their struggle is for survival, so must we, too, convince ourselves that our struggle is for the eternal Kingdom. But with this difference: we need no rifles or pistols for our battle, but instead, spiritual weapons – and the foremost among these is prayer. Through prayer, we continually implore new grace from God, since without God’s help and grace it would be impossible for us to preserve the Faith and be true to His commandments.

“Let us love our enemies, bless those who curse us, pray for those who persecute us. For love will conquer and endure for all eternity. And happy are they who live and die in God’s love.”