Post on 19-Jan-2023
Draft version only. This paper has been published as ‘Nazism and Religion: The Problem of “Positive Christianity,”’ Australian Journal of Politics and History 60, no.1 (March 2014), 28–42. All rights reserved © Samuel Koehne, 2014. The definitive version is available at http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/ajph.12043/full
1
Abstract:
Current debates on Nazism and religion are focused around the notion that the Nazis
sought to promote a kind of Christian faith called “positive Christianity.” This article
challenges such perspectives. It establishes that “positive Christianity” had an existing
meaning in German society before the Nazi Party was formed–-dogmatic Christian
faith––and demonstrates that this was the same interpretation of religious faith that
Hitler appeared to advocate in Mein Kampf. By contrast to recent revisionist accounts, the
paper argues that “positive Christianity” had such a wide variety of interpretations that it
cannot be considered as a cohesive construct.
Draft version only. This paper has been published as ‘Nazism and Religion: The Problem of “Positive Christianity,”’ Australian Journal of Politics and History 60, no.1 (March 2014), 28–42. All rights reserved © Samuel Koehne, 2014. The definitive version is available at http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/ajph.12043/full
1
Nazism and Religion: The Problem of “Positive Christianity”
here has been a great deal of Sturm und Drang in recent historical
considerations of Nazism and religion, much of which has come to revolve
around the notion (advocated by Richard Steigmann-Gall) that the Nazi
Party in and of itself was advocating a kind of faith called “positive Christianity.”1 The
reason for this is that when the National Socialist German Workers’ Party
(Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei, NSDAP) came to deal with the subject of
religion in their programme of 24 February 1920 they did so in only one section (point
24), which stated: “We demand freedom for all religious confessions in the state so long
as they do not endanger its existence or offend the ethical and moral feelings of the
Germanic race.” The programme went on to claim that “The Party as such stands for a
positive Christianity, without binding itself confessionally to any one denomination.”2
In his revisionist work The Holy Reich, Steigmann-Gall drew on this point
specifically to argue that the Nazis stood for a “type of Christianity,” a “positive
Christianity” that “was not a loose, unarticulated construct, but instead adhered to an
inner logic.” Derek Hastings also focused on this aspect of the Programme, but has more
cautiously argued for the possibility of the influence of Reform Catholicism.3 There is a
1 Richard Steigmann-Gall, The Holy Reich: Nazi Conceptions of Christianity, 1919–1945 (New York, 2003). See especially the responses to The Holy Reich in the special issue of Journal of Contemporary History 42, no.1 (2007): Doris L. Bergen, “Nazism and Christianity: Partner and Rivals?” (25–33); Manfred Gailus, “A Strange Obsession with Nazi Christianity” (35–46); Ernst Piper, “Steigmann-Gall, The Holy Reich” (47–57); Irving Hexham, “Inventing ‘Paganists’” (59–78); Stanley Stowers, “The Concepts of ‘Religion,’ ‘Political Religion’ and the Study of Nazism,” (9–24). See also Richard Steigmann-Gall, “Christianity and the Nazi Movement: A Response,” Journal of Contemporary History 42, no. 2 (2007): 185–211. 2 Alfred Rosenberg, Wesen, Grundsätze und Ziele der NSDAP (Munich, 1923), 43. I have translated Sittlichkeits- und Moral-gefühl as “ethical and moral” because the German Workers’ Party foundational principles used the terms Moral und Ethik: Reel 3, File no.77 Hauptarchiv der NSDAP (Hoover Institution on War, Revolution and Peace), microform. Hereafter I will refer to these NSDAP Central Archive files as: HA-File#. 3 Steigmann-Gall, Holy Reich, 14-15; Derek Hastings, Catholicism and the Roots of Nazism: Religious Identity and National Socialism (Oxford, 2010); Derek Hastings, “How ‘Catholic’ Was the Early
T
Draft version only. This paper has been published as ‘Nazism and Religion: The Problem of “Positive Christianity,”’ Australian Journal of Politics and History 60, no.1 (March 2014), 28–42. All rights reserved © Samuel Koehne, 2014. The definitive version is available at http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/ajph.12043/full
2
considerable historical problem, however, that has not been adequately dealt with and
that I wish to address in this paper. This is the issue that before we can deal with
arguments as to whether “positive Christianity” had any specific meaning in Nazi
terminology, we have to deal with the fact that it had an existing meaning: it meant the
traditional, dogmatic and orthodox teachings of Christian faith.
Although this has been largely ignored in the recent historiography it is relevant
to debates on Nazism given that this was both the meaning of “positive Christianity” in
German society at the time and that some Nazi propagandists were openly willing to
promote the NSDAP as if it were adhering to Christianity according to this traditional
meaning. As I argue, this leads us back to the question of whether the stated support for
“positive Christianity” in the Nazi Programme was strategic. What makes this murkier
still is that Hitler himself––when he discussed religion in Mein Kampf––made it clear that
the form of Christian faith he was apparently supportive of was dogmatic and
institutional Christianity (much as he might disagree with the content of such faith). This
creates the paradoxical situation that the Nazis were decidedly un-Christian if one takes
Hitler’s perspective on religion seriously.
First, it has to be made clear that there were undoubtedly leading Nazis who
viewed themselves as Christians, though it was of an extremely unorthodox form that
incorporated notions of an “Aryan Jesus,” of purging the Old Testament and of
“purifying” the New Testament––all notions grounded in the ultra-nationalist racial
ideology and antisemitism that formed the foundations of National Socialism.4 Points of
commonality could also be found between such National Socialists’ views and both
Nazi Movement? Religion, Race and Culture in Munich, 1919-1923,” Central European History 36, no. 3 (2003): 396. 4 See generally Michael Burleigh and Wolfgang Wippermann, The Racial State: Germany, 1933–1945 (Cambridge, 1991), esp. 304–7.
Draft version only. This paper has been published as ‘Nazism and Religion: The Problem of “Positive Christianity,”’ Australian Journal of Politics and History 60, no.1 (March 2014), 28–42. All rights reserved © Samuel Koehne, 2014. The definitive version is available at http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/ajph.12043/full
3
existing and continuing trends within German liberal or rationalist Christian theology.5
Yet this was the exact opposite to “positive Christianity” as it was commonly
understood.
The Meaning of Positive Christianity
teigmann-Gall apparently believed the term “positive Christianity” to be sui
generis.6 Yet by 1920 (when the Nazi Programme was proclaimed) positive
Christianity had an existing meaning, of two forms. One drew on Friedrich
Schleiermacher’s concept of “positive religions,” while the other simply denoted
conservative, doctrinal Christian belief––neither of which has received a great deal of
attention from Steigmann-Gall or Hastings.7 The famed religious encyclopaedia Religion in
Geschichte und Gegenwart (RGG) noted both forms in the Weimar era, defining positive
Christianity as orthodox religious belief, but also referring to Schleiermacher’s definition
of “revealed” religions, as opposed to “natural” religions, positioning “positive religions”
against beliefs such as Deism. In this sense, Schleiermacher’s use of “positive” was
identical to “positive” dogmatic Christianity: positive being used to mean certain or
definite.8
This places it as the exact opposite of the kinds of “Aryanised” Christian faith
positions to be found amongst leading Nazis, or even to those of Hitler––who, as a
5 See Doris L. Bergen, Twisted Cross: The German Christian Movement in the Third Reich (Chapel Hill, 1996); Susannah Heschel, The Aryan Jesus: Christian Theologians and the Bible in Nazi Germany (Princeton, 2008). Such connections were by no means limited to liberal Christians: see for example Robert P. Ericksen, Theologians under Hitler: Gerhard Kittel, Paul Althaus, and Emanuel Hirsch (New Haven, 1985), esp.115–19. 6 Steigmann-Gall argued “positive Christianity” embodied three concepts drawn from Point 24, though I have argued elsewhere that it did not: Samuel Koehne, “Reassessing The Holy Reich: Leading Nazis’ Views on Confession, Community and ‘Jewish’ Materialism,” Journal of Contemporary History 48, no.3 (July 2013): 423–45. 7 Franz Schnabel, Deutsche Geschichte im neunzehnten Jahrhundert (Freiburg im Breisgau, 1951), 286. 8 Die Religion in Geschichte und Gegenwart: Handwörterbuch für Theologie und Religionswissenschaft, ed. Hermann Gunkel and Leopold Zscharnack, 2 ed. (Tübingen, 1927–1930).
S
Draft version only. This paper has been published as ‘Nazism and Religion: The Problem of “Positive Christianity,”’ Australian Journal of Politics and History 60, no.1 (March 2014), 28–42. All rights reserved © Samuel Koehne, 2014. The definitive version is available at http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/ajph.12043/full
4
recent work noted, is possibly best characterised as “deistic.” Already by the late
nineteenth century “positive Christianity” was widely understood as distinguishing
conservative Christian belief from liberal Christianity, derived from the theological terms
“liberal theology” and “positive theology.”9
It was not simply understood in this way within Germany, as is shown through
research in the British Library’s digital collection of nineteenth century newspapers.10
References to “positive Christianity” range from the very powerful to ordinary people.
For instance, in 1824 The Morning Post published an article which reported ordinances
issued by the Duke of Baden against rationalist trends in religion that challenged the
“pure and incorrupt teaching of the Gospel” and Christian doctrines:
instead of the eternal Divine word, human transitory ideas are taught and
preached...many Clergymen, wholly neglecting to preach the main articles
of faith of our holy religion, treat its moral ordinances as the main part;
others again favour a system of rationalism which directly undermines the
chief pillars of our faith in the Gospel revealed immediately from God
through our Divine Redeemer and Saviour, and but too clearly betrays the
tendency to set aside, as antiquated, positive Christianity.
As reported, the Duke was attempting to maintain such “positive Christianity” in the
church, including belief in the miracles of the Bible, and the “pure doctrines of the
Gospel.”11 Yet one could find the same understanding at the other end of the social scale.
A letter to the editor of The Morning Chronicle in 1851 attacked the “National Public
9 This follows an older tradition: see “Positiva Theologia,” listed under “dogmatic theology” in Johann Heinrich Zedler, Grosses vollständiges Universal-Lexikon (Leipzig and Halle, 1741; repr., Graz-Austria, 1982). On Hitler as “deistic”: Rainer Bucher, Hitler’s Theology: A Study in Political Religion, trans. Rebecca Pohl (London, 2011), 9–10. 10 For all subsequent references I am reliant on the 19th Century British Library Newspapers collection, available online through http://www.gale.cengage.com [accessed 12 August 2010]. 11 The Morning Post, 6 August 1824.
Draft version only. This paper has been published as ‘Nazism and Religion: The Problem of “Positive Christianity,”’ Australian Journal of Politics and History 60, no.1 (March 2014), 28–42. All rights reserved © Samuel Koehne, 2014. The definitive version is available at http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/ajph.12043/full
5
School Association” for supporting a “creed of Theism.” The writer’s object was “to
expose the workings of the propaganda of this aggression upon positive dogmatic
Christianity.”12
It was also a term used in the Catholic Church, and a very significant example
could be found in 1872. Following Vatican 1 a schism occurred whereby Catholics
unwilling to accept papal infallibility formed the Old Catholic Church (Altkatholische
Kirche). A major meeting of this group in Cologne in 1872 neatly described “positive
Christianity”: “The ground on which they place themselves is that of positive Christianity
and whoever does not profess Christianity, as it is contained in the Scriptures and laid
down by the seven Ecumenical Councils of the Church, cannot be regarded as a
Catholic.”13 By the end of the nineteenth century the meaning was common enough in
Germany that even a general reference work like Meyers Konversationslexikon defined
“positive Christianity” (das positive Christentum) as a “scholastic-dogmatic form” that was
exclusive to the church.14
Robert Cecil made the point that “if we accept that the basic Christian beliefs are
that Jesus Christ was God, that through His death and resurrection man is redeemed
from original sin and that the soul survives the death of the physical body” then a leader
like Alfred Rosenberg “was no Christian.”15 Yet “positive Christianity” meant accepting
not only these aspects but also the doctrine of the Trinity and that the Bible as a whole
12 The Morning Chronicle, 22 December 1851. 13 The Pall Mall Gazette, 23 September 1872. 14 Referred to as a kirchlich abgeschlossene, scholastisch-dogmatische Form in a commentary on Apologetics: “Apologie,” Meyers Konversationslexikon (4.Auflage, 1888-1890) available in facsimile through Universität Ulm: http://vts.uni-ulm.de/doc.asp?id=5436 [accessed 15 December 2012]. This work was well known. 15 See Robert Cecil, The Myth of the Master Race: Alfred Rosenberg and Nazi Ideology (London, 1972), 84. On Rosenberg and religion, see: Ernst Piper “‘Der Nationalsozialismus steht über allen Bekenntnissen,’ Alfred Rosenberg und die völkisch-religiösen Erneuerungsbestrebungen” in Völkisch-religiöse Bewegung im Nationalsozialismus, 337-53, esp.338-40.
Draft version only. This paper has been published as ‘Nazism and Religion: The Problem of “Positive Christianity,”’ Australian Journal of Politics and History 60, no.1 (March 2014), 28–42. All rights reserved © Samuel Koehne, 2014. The definitive version is available at http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/ajph.12043/full
6
(Old and New Testament) was the divinely revealed word of God. By such criteria, no
leading Nazi could be considered Christian, given their general aversion to the Old
Testament and their rejection of the universality of sin and the universality of grace
(Romans 3: 22-24).16 From early on the Nazis declared “it is not confession, but rather the
race of a person that determines his actions…a Jew always remains a Jew” because
“baptismal water cannot wash away the in-born blood.”17
This is not to say that leading Nazis were aware of the theological niceties of the
term “positive Christianity.” But one did not have to be a theologian to be conversant
with this meaning, one only had to be socially aware. The term appeared in general usage
in the public struggle of Protestant Church elections between the parties of the
“Liberals” (Liberalen) and the “Positives” (Positiven): the first adhered to a theological
liberal position, the latter to “positive,” orthodox, Christianity.18 On occasion, the Nazis’
official newspaper the Völkisch Observer (Völkischer Beobachter, VB) reported these.19
16 A leading Protestant theologian, Hermann Sasse, pointed this out at the time: Evangelische Kirche Deutschland, Kirchliches Jahrbuch für die evangelischen Landeskirchen Deutschlands, ed. Hermann Sasse, vol. 59 (Gütersloh, 1932), 65–6. 17 Their emphais. This quotation appeared as part of a repeated series of large-font inserts on “agitation against the Jews” in the Nazi newspaper, the Völkischer Beobachter (VB): VB-37 (12 May 1921). In September 1921 Hitler’s notes argued ‘Jewish Christians’ were always still ‘jewified’ by ‘blood’: Adolf Hitler, Sämtliche Aufzeichnungen: 1905–1924, ed. Eberhard Jäckel and Axel Kuhn (Stuttgart, 1980), 478. On the VB: Detlef Mühlberger, Hitler’s Voice: The Völkischer Beobachter, 1920–1933, Nazi Ideology and Propaganda, vol. 2 (Oxford: P. Lang, 2004); Detlef Mühlberger, Hitler’s Voice: The Völkischer Beobachter, 1920–1933, Organisation & Development of the Nazi Party, vol. 1 (Oxford: P. Lang, 2004). 18 For instance, the Bavarian Historical Lexicon records “Inner-church conflicts between Liberals/Rationalists as against ‘Orthodox’ and ‘Positives’” in the provincial church or Landeskirche. In the 1927 church-vote, the Liberalen won 44% of the church-vote, and the Positiven 38%: Klaus Bümlein, Evangelische Kirche der Pfalz, http://www.historisches-lexikon-bayerns.de/artikel/artikel_44489 [accessed 16 April 2012]. 19 See for instance the brief article on “Church Voting in Berlin” in 1932 which recorded the votes won by competing groups, including the “Positive” and “Liberal” parties, though by this point the VB was promoting the “German Christians (National Socialists)”––a newly unified group of völkisch Christian organisations: VB-316/321 (16 November 1932); On the German Christians: Bergen Twisted Cross, 5–6, 14–17; John S. Conway, The Nazi Persecution of the Churches 1933–1945 (London, 1968), 12–13, 45ff.
Draft version only. This paper has been published as ‘Nazism and Religion: The Problem of “Positive Christianity,”’ Australian Journal of Politics and History 60, no.1 (March 2014), 28–42. All rights reserved © Samuel Koehne, 2014. The definitive version is available at http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/ajph.12043/full
7
The term “positive theology” also continued in use, as in the 1923 Brockhaus
which defined it as the opposite of “rational or natural theology,” stating “positive” had
come to be synonymous with “ecclesiastical-conservative.” In terms of the vernacular,
Holborn points out that from the mid-nineteenth century, “‘Positive’ Christianity became
the religion of the old ruling classes, the rural population, and the lower middle classes in
the towns”––populations that the Nazis targeted and drew on for membership.
Hermelink, writing four years after the demise of the Third Reich, noted that the central
points of “positive Christianity” were orthodox teachings “of sin and of redemption.”20
In a popular sense then, positive Christianity meant “according to Protestant terminology
of the time, conservative, fundamentalist and nationalistic Protestantism.”21 Given this
common understanding, the term was at the very least an ambiguous point in the Nazi
programme.
Looking Back to 1920
art of the issue is that we have to look back to the programme of 1920 over a
mass of redefinitions of “positive Christianity,” especially after the Nazis
came to power. There is no doubt that systematic attempts were made after
1933 to redefine the terms, not least that by Reich-Bishop Ludwig Müller. His book
What is positive Christianity? was sent out “in the conviction, that the term ‘positive
Christianity’ is able to be filled with new German content just as well as the word
‘Socialism.’”22 This incidentally accepted that the term had an existing meaning, even
though his work was an attempt to redefine it.
20 “Positiv,” Brockhaus: Handbuch des Wissens, vol. 3 (Leipzig, 1923); Hajo Holborn, A History of Modern Germany, vol. 2 (London, 1965), 494; H. Hermelink, Geschichte der evangelischen Kirche in Württemberg von der Reformation bis zur Gegenwart (Stuttgart, 1949), 219. 21 Hartmut Lehmann, “The Germans as a Chosen People: Old Testament Themes in German Nationalism,” German Studies Review 14 (1991): 269. 22 Ludwig Müller, Was ist positives Christentum? (Stuttgart, 1939), 5.
P
Draft version only. This paper has been published as ‘Nazism and Religion: The Problem of “Positive Christianity,”’ Australian Journal of Politics and History 60, no.1 (March 2014), 28–42. All rights reserved © Samuel Koehne, 2014. The definitive version is available at http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/ajph.12043/full
8
Already by 1976 James Zabel considered “positive Christianity” at some length.23 It
is curious that Steigmann-Gall omitted any discussion of the traditional meaning of from
his book, given that he was clearly aware of Zabel’s work.24 When he came to consider
positive Christianity, Zabel began by noting the “pre-Nazi history” of the expression
specifically as a “traditionalist anti-liberal theological position.” However, he believed this
had “little, if any, relationship” to Point 24, going on to examine the very disparate
interpretations by German Christian groups, which included “orthodoxy, neo-paganism,
heroic faith, anti-intellectualism and moderation.”
This both demonstrates the diverse interpretations made after the Nazis came to
power and illustrates at a fundamental level that “positive Christianity” was vague and
open to interpretation. It was so broad that Zabel concluded it could “mean almost
anything.” His analysis shows that even very theologically-aware Christians who were
interested in Nazism could not agree on what the term meant. As he concluded, “the
definitions of ‘positive Christianity’ varied greatly” such that: “There was no commonly-
held interpretation.” As a result, he believed that the “lack of definition” was “[t]he most
important thing about the use of the term in the Party platform.”25
Positive (doctrinal) Christianity and the Nazi Party
learly one interpretation was orthodox faith and “positive Christianity”
could also be used to denote doctrinal belief in the völkisch movement, out
of which the Nazi Party itself had arisen.26 An example of its use in this
23 James A. Zabel, Nazism and the Pastors: A Study of the Ideas of three Deutsche Christen Groups (Missoula, Montana, 1976), Chapter 5, 111–29. 24 Their summaries of Friedrich Andersen and the League for a German Church are markedly similar: Zabel, Nazism and the Pastors, 9–11; Steigmann-Gall, Holy Reich, 74–75. 25 Zabel, Nazism and the Pastors, 111–12, 128–29. 26 The term völkisch is difficult to translate, though it carried connotations of ultra-nationalism, antisemitism and racism. For excellent summaries, see Roger Griffin, The Nature of Fascism (London, 1991), 86–90; George S. Williamson, The Longing for Myth in Germany: Religion and
C
Draft version only. This paper has been published as ‘Nazism and Religion: The Problem of “Positive Christianity,”’ Australian Journal of Politics and History 60, no.1 (March 2014), 28–42. All rights reserved © Samuel Koehne, 2014. The definitive version is available at http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/ajph.12043/full
9
sense was the pamphlet issued by the German-Völkisch Freedom Party (Deutschvölkische
Freiheitspartei, DVFP). This was a group which sought to connect itself to the Nazi Party,
particularly on antisemitic grounds. In 1924, it released a pamphlet attacking the German
Nationalists (presumably the Deutsche Nationale Volkspartei, DNVP). This argued that the
DNVP claim that they protected “positive Christianity” was false, mostly on the grounds
that this party had leaders who were “liberal pastors” and “liberal Protestants.” One of
their main concerns (like the Nazis) was that there be no intermixing of religion and
politics, and that anyone who was nationalist could join their party, proudly proclaiming
that their own ranks contained “positive,” “liberal” and “German-Christian” Protestants
and Catholics. This was a völkisch organisation in 1924 using “positive Christianity” in the
same sense that it had always been understood: as the opposite of “liberal Christianity.”27
The key question, of course, is whether the Nazis used “positive Christianity” in
its traditional sense: because if they did so, it was probably being used as a political ploy.
Certainly one of their prominent propagandists did in the early years. Hastings noted that
a priest named Lorenz Pieper repeatedly propagandised for the Nazi Party in 1923,
including on the topic: “Can a Catholic be a National Socialist?”28 As reported in the VB,
Pieper was arguing against the notion that the Nazis were “direct opponents and
corrupters of Christianity and supporters of a aggregate Christianity that is free of Aesthetic Culture from Romanticism to Nietzsche (Chicago, 2004), 285–88. See also Uwe Puschner, Die völkische Bewegung im wilhelminischen Kaiserreich: Sprache–Rasse–Religion (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 2001); Uwe Puschner and Clemens Vollnhals, Die völkisch-religiöse Bewegung im Nationalsozialismus: Eine Beziehung- und Konfliktgeschichte (Göttingen, 2012); Handbuch zur “Völkischen Bewegung”, 1871–1918, ed. Uwe Puschner, Walter Schmitz, and Justus H. Ulbricht (Munich, 1996). 27 See Evangelische Christen, schützt Euer Christentum vor Parteipolitik, HA-843. 28 When Pieper joined the NSDAP, an article in the VB declared his affiliation and noted his “positive Christian-German world-view” and the “struggle for the salvation of the Christian-Germanic spirit”: VB-84 (4 May 1923). On Pieper, see Hastings, Catholicism and Nazism, 119-20, 126-29. Hastings was more interested in Pieper’s possible role as a bridge between Reform Catholicism in Munich and a “Nazi” form of Christian faith. More generally on Catholic clerics and their involvement in the Nazi Party: Kevin P. Spicer, Hitler’s Priests: Catholic Clergy and National Socialism (DeKalb, Ill., 2008).
Draft version only. This paper has been published as ‘Nazism and Religion: The Problem of “Positive Christianity,”’ Australian Journal of Politics and History 60, no.1 (March 2014), 28–42. All rights reserved © Samuel Koehne, 2014. The definitive version is available at http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/ajph.12043/full
10
dogmas (dogmenloses Christentum).” He addressed this in two ways, first arguing that the
Catholic Church did not dictate membership in any particular political Party, and then
that Catholics could join the National Socialists “without detriment to their religious
conviction.”
Pieper repeatedly stated that the Nazi Party stood “on the basis of positive
Christianity,” but what he meant by this was adherence to dogmatic Catholicism, the
commonly understood meaning of the term. Pieper certainly referred to the authority of
Catholic Bishops and the Pope in the report of his speech of 26 June, endorsing their
authority. He argued that the Nazi Party was the “warmest and most energetic defender
and fighter for the true Christian view of life and the world.” But he went further, and
asserted that “the Catholic church and its adherents are able to fulfil their religious tasks
and duties unhindered” under Nazi precepts.29
He spoke again on this topic in August, continuing to confirm the authority of
“the Pope and Bishops” and claiming that members of the Nazi Party should “fulfil their
duty” within “their religious societies and confessions.”30 He further argued Catholics
could adhere to any party “that stands on the basis of positive Christianity and proves
this conviction also through action,” rejecting the Social Democrats and Democrats on
these grounds. The first, he argued, stood for atheism and the second “do not positively
represent the Christian world view, but the Jewish-liberal and free-thought direction of
ideas.” Pieper went so far as to argue the Nazis fought for “Christian education and for
confessional schools.”
He relied on a racialist interpretation of the orders of creation as a “sacred”
notion: “Next to religion is a high sacred notion, the fatherland: that is, the entirety of all
29 VB-135 (7 July 1923). 30 VB-151 (1 August 1923); VB-152 (2 August 1923).
Draft version only. This paper has been published as ‘Nazism and Religion: The Problem of “Positive Christianity,”’ Australian Journal of Politics and History 60, no.1 (March 2014), 28–42. All rights reserved © Samuel Koehne, 2014. The definitive version is available at http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/ajph.12043/full
11
German comrades by blood, destiny and Volk….God Himself has created the diversity
of the peoples in blood, nature, and race and hence also desires the difference of blood,
of the peoples, of races.” On this basis he argued “racial purity” was desired by God, and
came to the conclusion that “a convinced Christian and Catholic has to be an
antisemite.”
Yet it was particularly emphasised that “because the National Socialist Party
stands on the basis of positive Christianity, theoretically and in practice, it is self-evident,
that its Catholic members also identify with all the individual dogmas and moral precepts of the
Catholic Church.” This included the Catholic Catechism (in which the professions of
faith are the Apostles’ Creed and Nicene Creed).31 This was a statement of “positive
Christianity” in dogmatic form, apparent support for an orthodox faith position that
included all the “basic beliefs” outlined above.
Alongside this second article the Nazi Party reported the opposing viewpoint. A
Jesuit priest, Rupert Mayer, had raised questions about the use of “positive Christianity,”
arguing that Nazism was emphatically “un-Christian,” because “it rejects the Old
Testament that has been inspired by the Holy Spirit; it confers so to speak a new content
upon positive Christianity; it teaches not only hatred against the Jews, but also against
our enemies.”32 What both Pieper and Mayer were talking about in 1923 was not religion
free of dogmas, not a liberal or rationalist religion, but dogmatic Catholicism––positive
31 His emphasis; in German: “sei es selbstverständlich, dass ihre katholischen Mitglieder sich auch identifizieren mit allen einzelnen Glaubenssätzen und Moralgesetzen der katholischen Kirche.” He stated that Party gatherings were not the place to discuss individual questions of the Catechism: VB-170 (24 August 1923). These points are omitted by Hastings, who slightly misread some of the original, translating “Neben der Religion ist ein hoher heiliger Begriff das Vaterland” as “Beneath religion comes the elevated holy ideal of Fatherland”: Hastings, Catholicism and Nazism, 128. Pieper consistently argued in favour of racial purity as the desire of God and that the NSDAP was Christian (even of “an extreme Christian position”) because it fought “atheistic” political parties: see for instance VB-152 (2 August 1923). 32 VB-170 (24 August 1923).
Draft version only. This paper has been published as ‘Nazism and Religion: The Problem of “Positive Christianity,”’ Australian Journal of Politics and History 60, no.1 (March 2014), 28–42. All rights reserved © Samuel Koehne, 2014. The definitive version is available at http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/ajph.12043/full
12
Christianity in its traditional sense. Yet this is not what leading “Aryan Christian” Nazis
adhered to: theirs was not the doctrine of the Nicene Creed, but belief in an Aryan Jesus.
Nor were the Nazis necessarily dissociating themselves from the völkisch movement and
its stranger religious trends, including paganism. In this regard, there were some curious
contrasts to be found alongside reports of Pieper’s speeches.
For instance, the same VB column that reported one of his lectures noted that a
local branch of the Nazi Party had held an evening of discussion specifically on Theodor
Fritsch’s racial-religious work The False God.33 Alongside the VB reports on Pieper and
Mayer there was also an article recommending the fourth “German Day” (Deutscher Tag)
to members of the Nazi Party. This was not only meant to discuss the “position of the
völkisch movement” but give participants the “spiritual-mental stimulus” to continue
“their struggle for the German Volk-soul.” Four lectures were listed, the first two of
which were “The Germanic tribes (Germanen) 2000 Years Ago” by Franz von Wendrin
and “The Results of Research into the Edda” by Otto Siegfried Reuter.34
Franz von Wendrin was a völkisch author who was well on the way to his
supposed “discovery of paradise” (that is, biblical Eden) in Mecklenburg.35 In 1923 he
already believed that he had “discovered conclusive evidence that all civilisation on this
globe has originated [from] his Germanic ancestors in Scandinavia.”36 Reuter, on the
other hand, was probably speaking on his work The Riddle of the Edda and Aryan Primal
33 See Kulmbach report, VB-151 (1 August 1923); Theodor Fritsch, Der falsche Gott: Beweismaterial gegen Jahwe, 9th ed. (Leipzig, 1921). On Fritsch and his influence: Dietrich Eckart, Der Bolschewismus von Moses bis Lenin: Zwiegespräch zwischen Adolf Hitler und mir (Munich, 1924), 34n.107; Handbuch zur “Völkischen Bewegung”, 1871–1918, 341–65. 34 VB-170 (24 August 1923). The other lectures were on “racial hygiene” and antisemitism. The Edda refers to the Norse poetry: Ursula Dronke, The Poetic Edda, vol. 2 (Oxford, 1997). 35 Franz von Wendrin, Die Entdeckung des Paradieses (Braunschweig, 1924). 36 The Argus (Melbourne), 15 September 1923. The review was by Augustin Lodewyckx, who believed this had more to do with a “tendency [in Germany] to turn from the miseries of the present time to the glories of the German or even Germanic past…”
Draft version only. This paper has been published as ‘Nazism and Religion: The Problem of “Positive Christianity,”’ Australian Journal of Politics and History 60, no.1 (March 2014), 28–42. All rights reserved © Samuel Koehne, 2014. The definitive version is available at http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/ajph.12043/full
13
Faith.37 Uwe Puschner describes Reuter as having had an “influential authority” in the
völkisch movement and as “one of the most important” ideologists of the “pagan
völkisch-religious movement.” In 1909 he had written a work Siegfried or Christ? which
found “great resonance” amongst the neo-pagans, as it had argued against “Christianity
as a so-called racially foreign (artfremd) religion” and called for “the revival of pre-
Christian Germanic-german religiosity.” 38 The promotion of such events and such
important figures as Reuter did not distance the Nazi Party from the broader völkisch
movement (including pagan trends).
This problem is more neatly illustrated by Pieper’s speech “Can a Catholic be a
National Socialist?”. Hastings stated “the outspokenly Catholic Max Sesselmann” was
“often” present at Pieper’s presentation of this speech and represented the “committed
Catholic Nazi layman.” This is incorrect on a number of levels. On a minor point, the
VB reports recorded that Max (sometimes also Marc) Sesselmann was only present at the
event on 26 June with Pieper. More importantly, at this event he did not describe himself
as Catholic and spoke only on the aims and nature of the Nazi Party, which means that
the principal evidence Hastings provides for his repeated assertions of Sesselmann’s
Catholicism in the period to 1923 were that his family were prominent Catholics.39
The largest issue with the notion that Max Sesselmann was “ouspokenly
Catholic” is that when he had declared his own views on religion, Sesselmann advocated
37 Otto Siegfried Reuter, Das Rätsel der Edda und der arische Urglaube, vol. 1 (Sontra in Hessen, 1922-23); Otto Siegfried Reuter, Das Rätsel der Edda und der arische Urglaube, vol. 2 (Sontra in Hessen, 1923). 38 Uwe Puschner, “Reuter, Otto Theodor Ludwig Sigfrid,” in Neue Deutsche Biographie 21 (2003): 465–67, available online at http://www.deutsche-biographie.de [accessed 8 January 2013]. Although first published anonymously, Reuter became reknowned for this “ground-breaking publication”: Friedrich Andersen, Der deutsche Heiland (Munich, 1921), 137. 39 Hastings, Catholicism and Nazism, 126-27; for his evidence, 209n.98, the “Bekanntmachung” refers to Hans Georg Müller. Hastings refers variously to Sesselmann as a “professing Catholic,” a “völkisch-Catholic collaborater,” a “believing Catholic” (66, 89, 150-51). In this last, he noted that Sesselmann spoke in 1924 at an event with the theme “Can a Catholic be völkisch?”
Draft version only. This paper has been published as ‘Nazism and Religion: The Problem of “Positive Christianity,”’ Australian Journal of Politics and History 60, no.1 (March 2014), 28–42. All rights reserved © Samuel Koehne, 2014. The definitive version is available at http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/ajph.12043/full
14
the bizarre and esoteric work of Jörg Lanz von Liebenfels (Adolf Lanz). From 1919 he
was a leading member of the German Workers’ Party (Deutsche Arbeiterpartei, DAP, which
became the NSDAP) and an editor of the VB. He was also the leader of the German
Socialist Party (Deutschsozialistische Partei, DSP) in Munich and it was as such that he
attended the DSP conference of 24-26 April 1920. In a discussion about religion at this
event he stated: “Dr Lanz Liebenfels is the spiritual propagator for this movement. An
Aryan religious idea has to permeate our movement.” This was exactly two months after
Sesselmann had opened the Nazi (DAP) meeting of 24 February 1920: at which they
proclaimed themselves for “positive Christianity.”40
Liebenfels was well known for his journal Ostara, which many have argued was
read by Hitler. When Liebenfels summarised his own ideas, they were that “our holy
scriptures provide proof, that the dark races and untouchables were the result of a
sodomitic intermixture of Aryans who had lost a consciousness of race, particularly
female Aryans, with animal-people and pre-humans.” This referred to the degradation of
Aryan “god-men” through bestiality (he believed “the gods once actually lived upon this
earth”). To Liebenfels “the nature of the religion of the Bible was simply ariosophical
racial hygiene, eugenics, was antisimitism, that is the battle against the Ape-men and sub-
humans, and not monotheism and altruism.”41
40 DSP-Parteitag, 27. This is the report from the conference of 24-26 April 1920 in Hanover: HA-109; page numbers appear on the top-right corner. 41 J. Lanz-Liebenfels, Das Buch der Psalmen teutsch, das Gebetbuch der Ariosophen, Rassenmystiker und Antisimiten, vol. 1 (Düsseldorf-Unterrath, 1926), 4–6. Goodrick-Clarke noted this was the “single Lanz monograph” to be found in what remains of Hitler’s library. On Lanz and his ideas, see Nicholas Goodrick-Clarke, The Occult Roots of Nazism: The Ariosophists of Austria and Germany, 1890–1935 (New York, 1992), 90–4, 194, 276–79; Handbuch zur “Völkischen Bewegung”, 1871–1918, 131–46. “Antisimitism” was deliberate: Liebenfels viewed “antisemitism” as meaning “anti-simia” (that is, against the ape). It is “most likely” Hitler read Ostara, though “we cannot be certain”: Ian Kershaw, Hitler, 1889–1936: Hubris (London, 1998), 51.
Draft version only. This paper has been published as ‘Nazism and Religion: The Problem of “Positive Christianity,”’ Australian Journal of Politics and History 60, no.1 (March 2014), 28–42. All rights reserved © Samuel Koehne, 2014. The definitive version is available at http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/ajph.12043/full
15
What we have then is a self-declared advocate for Liebenfels speaking alongside a
priest who was arguing that the Nazis stood on the basis of “positive Christianity” and
there was nothing in Nazism that was fundamentally in opposition to “Catholic
teaching.” But perhaps they were not standing that far from one another. As was publicly
reported in the VB, Pieper argued in favour of Joseph von Görres as one of the “most
significant” of those who “reawoke in [our Volk] the sense for our great past, for its
divine revelation in history and saga, in myth and fairy-tales, in word and tone.”42
This was not “positive Christianity” that adhered to the dogmas of the Catholic
Church. Indeed, it was more in line with writers like the “Wotanist” (or Odinist) Guido
von List, who argued that key sources to rediscovering the faith of the Aryan “religion of
light” were “myths, fairy-tales, sagas, opinion and custom, as well as our Germanic Bible
the Edda.”43 Yet Pieper was a prominent propagandist willing to promote “positive
Christianity” as if the Nazis were using it according to its usual meaning.
The Paradox of Hitler’s Dogma & the Uses of Christianity
he issue of defining “positive Christianity” becomes even more problematic
when one turns to Mein Kampf, which was a widely accepted official text on
National Socialism. What has not been noted in the literature until recently
is that when Hitler came to write specifically on the formation of religious faith in this
autobiographical work, he referred precisely to Christianity in its traditional, dogmatic
42 In German: “göttliche Offenbarung in Geschichte und Sage, in Mythus und Märchen, in Wort und Ton”: VB-134 (6 July 1923). Hastings cited this report but eschewed mention of the myths and fairy-tales: “Pieper portrayed Görres not only as a deeply religious Catholic but also a ‘warrior’ who was willing to fight for his convictions”: Hastings, Catholicism and Nazism, 127. A series on “prophecy and fulfillment” in fairy-tales had run in the VB beginning in VB-38 (11/12 March 1923). The author was Georg Schott, author of Weissagung und Erfüllung im deutschen Volksmärchen (Munich, 1925). 43 “Mythe, Märchen, Sage, Meinung und Brauch, sowie unsere Germanenbibel, die Edda”: Guido List, Die Rita der Ario-Germanen, 3rd ed. (Berlin, 1920), 58. On List’s “Wotanism and Germanic Theosophy,” Goodrick-Clarke, The Occult Roots, 49-55.
T
Draft version only. This paper has been published as ‘Nazism and Religion: The Problem of “Positive Christianity,”’ Australian Journal of Politics and History 60, no.1 (March 2014), 28–42. All rights reserved © Samuel Koehne, 2014. The definitive version is available at http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/ajph.12043/full
16
form. As Rainer Bucher notes in his fascinating analysis of Hitler’s Theology the reason for
this emphasis was not an agreement with the content of Church dogma, but his belief
that two lessons could be learned from dogmatic form for the Nazis’ “political
confession”: certainty and intolerance.44
Essentially, Hitler’s argument was that belief (whether religious or political) did
not truly become faith until it was dogmatically defined. At this point, it was of use for
“the masses.” Hitler argued that “the practical existence of a religious faith” was “not
conceivable” without “the dogmatic foundations of the various churches,” seeing dogma
as the means by which “the wavering and infintely interpretable, purely intellectual idea
[is] delimited and brought into a form without which it could never become faith.”45 It
was due to Hitler’s belief in the amorphous nature of faith (religious or political) that he
defended dogma. This, in turn, drew out an instance when Hitler argued that the Nazis
could learn from the Catholic Church:
[W]e can learn by the example of the Catholic Church. Though its
doctrinal edifice, and in part quite superfluously, comes into collision with
exact science and research, it is none the less unwilling to sacrifice so
much as one syllable of its dogmas.
It has recognised quite correctly that its power of resistance does not lie
in its lesser or greater adaptation to the scientific findings of the moment,
44 Bucher, Hitler’s Theology, 19–28. The study of Hitler’s religious beliefs is a large (and growing) field, see for instance Friedrich Heer, Der Glaube des Adolf Hitler. Anatomie einer politischen Religiosität (Munich, 1968); Michael Rißmann, Hitlers Gott: Vorsehungsglaube und Sendungsbewußtsein des deutschen Diktators (Zürich, 2001); Claus-Ekkehard Bärsch, Die politische Religion des Nationalsozialismus: Die religiöse Dimension der NS-Ideologie in den Schriften von Dietrich Eckart, Joseph Goebbels, Alfred Rosenberg und Adolf Hitler (Munich, 1998). However, Bucher notes that it is “extraordinarily difficult” to ascertain “personally held beliefs” for any individual, and focuses instead on Hitler’s “political project and its theological structures of legitimation”: Bucher, Hitler’s Theology, 9–10. 45 Adolf Hitler, Mein Kampf, trans. Ralph Manheim (1943; repr., London, 2004), 243. I am reliant on Bucher’s argument: Bucher, Hitler’s Theology, 22–24.
Draft version only. This paper has been published as ‘Nazism and Religion: The Problem of “Positive Christianity,”’ Australian Journal of Politics and History 60, no.1 (March 2014), 28–42. All rights reserved © Samuel Koehne, 2014. The definitive version is available at http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/ajph.12043/full
17
which in reality are always fluctuating, but rather in rigidly holding to
dogmas once established, for it is only such dogmas which lend to the
whole body the character of a faith.46
On one level, this was a mockery of Catholicism, given that Hitler viewed it as out of
step with modernity and science. But he clearly believed a political movement could learn
from this example.
Hence, Hitler described the Programme as a “political creed,” asking “how shall
we fill people with blind faith in the correctness of a doctrine, if we ourselves spread
uncertainty and doubt by constant changes in its outward structure?”47 In this, he was
also attempting to delineate Nazism from völkisch thought more generally. Hitler desired
that the masses have “blind [political] faith,” but this was made difficult by the disparate
nature of the völkisch movement, encompassing “All sorts of people, with a yawning gulf
between everything essential in their opinions.”
Hitler offered a definition of the term völkisch via an interpretation of the word
“religious” in a statement which presents his view on the necessity of bounded faith,
whether religious or political, and argued for the necessity of “clearly delimited faith”
from the “purely metaphysical infinite world of ideas.”48 Whatever his personal religious
views, Hitler’s public defence of dogma meant that the type or form of Christian faith
that he was supporting was “positive Christianity” in its conservative sense: doctrinal
faith. That said, Hitler specifically rejected orthodox views when they did not fit with
what he believed to be a key issue: the solution of the “Jewish question.”49 Moreover, his
46 Hitler, Mein Kampf (Manheim ed.), 417. Cf. Bucher, Hitler’s Theology, 24. 47 Hitler, Mein Kampf (Manheim ed.), 416–17. There is a curious parallel to Revelations 22:18–19. 48 Ibid., 344. He viewed völkisch and “religious” as equally “vaguely defined, open to as many interpretations and as unlimited in practical application.” Hence his positive view of dogma. 49 Ibid., 103, see also 307.
Draft version only. This paper has been published as ‘Nazism and Religion: The Problem of “Positive Christianity,”’ Australian Journal of Politics and History 60, no.1 (March 2014), 28–42. All rights reserved © Samuel Koehne, 2014. The definitive version is available at http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/ajph.12043/full
18
notions on “original sin” were certainly unorthodox: “The sin against blood and race is
the original sin of this world.”50
His support for intolerance is probably best illustrated by the fact that Hitler
wrote of Christianity as having introduced “spiritual terror into the far freer ancient
world.”51 Again, he believed the Nazis could learn from the Churches: “Christianity
could not content itself with building up its own altar; it was absolutely forced to
undertake the destruction of the heathen altars. Only from this fanatical intolerance
could its apodictic faith take form; this intolerance is, in fact, its absolute
presupposition.”52
Bucher traced such notions to a Nazi Party newsletter of 26 April 1922, in which
Hitler had expressed these ideas in talking about disparities in the völkisch movement.53
Two major points raised his ire, one being the notion that a variety of völkisch groups
could work separately to the same ends, and that they should coordinate simply by
means of “working groups.” In attacking these concepts, Hitler emphasised Christianity,
and attributed its success to “the rejection of every compromise.” Apparently still
referring to Christianity, he went on to argue that “the greatest power in this world is
blind faith in the correctness of one’s own aim and in the complete rectitude of the
struggle for it.”54
50 Adolf Hitler, Mein Kampf (Munich, 1936), 272. This view was conceptually in line with Liebenfels and Artur Dinter, Die Sünde wider das Blut: Ein Zeitroman, 15th ed. (Leipzig, 1921). 51 Dogmatics does indeed include intolerance, in the form of a rejection of all that is not doctrinally established: “All doctrines should conform to the standards set forth...Whatever is contrary to them should be rejected and condemned as opposed to the unanimous declaration of our faith”:The Book of Concord, ed. Theodore G. Tappert (St. Louis, 1959), 464–65. 52 Hitler, Mein Kampf (Manheim ed.), 412–13; Bucher, Hitler’s Theology, 21. Ironically, as Bucher also notes, Hitler argued “this type of intolerance and fanaticism positively embodies the Jewish nature”: Hitler, Mein Kampf (Manheim ed.), 225, 412–13. 53 Bucher, Hitler’s Theology, 20. 54 Hitler, Sämtliche Aufzeichnungen, 636. My translation.
Draft version only. This paper has been published as ‘Nazism and Religion: The Problem of “Positive Christianity,”’ Australian Journal of Politics and History 60, no.1 (March 2014), 28–42. All rights reserved © Samuel Koehne, 2014. The definitive version is available at http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/ajph.12043/full
19
The usefulness of a dogmatic faith that would not compromise was clear to
Hitler: “The future of a movement is conditioned by the fanaticism, yes, the intolerance,
with which its adherents uphold it as the sole correct movement, and push it past other
formations of a similar sort.”55 Ultimately, it appears that he held himself out as the
“preacher” he believed was required for such a movement. “one man must step forward
who with apodictic force will form granite principles from the wavering idea-world of
the broad masses and take up the struggle for their sole correctness, until from the
shifting waves of a free thought-world there will arise a brazen cliff of solid unity in faith
and will.”56
This perspective is neatly summarised by page headings in Mein Kampf: “From
religious sentiment to an apodictic belief / From völkisch feeling to a political
confession.”57 Bucher did not make the link between this definition and the traditional
meaning of “positive Christianity” as such an absolutely certain (apodictic) faith. Yet the
fact remains that in Mein Kampf when Hitler wrote on the uses of religion Christianity was
being defined in its traditional form. This was an astonishing level of apparent support
for institutional religion––what was commonly called “positive Christianity.”
Such statements led to an assumption that this is what the term meant. The
Protestant Pastor Hüffmeier wrote in a criticism of Rosenberg: “Until now we have had
the definite assurance that the Party understood by Positive Christianity what was
embodied in the two great confessions.”58 The Catholic Alfons Steiger, who was a vocal
critic of the Nazis as a “neo-pagan” group, also argued that “positive Christianity” could
only be understood to mean “the faithful acceptance” of the “doctrines and moral
55 Hitler, Mein Kampf (Manheim ed.), 317. 56 Ibid., 314, 346. 57 Hitler, Mein Kampf (1936 ed.), 417–18. 58 As translated in: Heinrich Hüffmeier, Rosenberg’s German “Mythus”: An Evangelical Answer ed. Sidney M. Berry (London, 1935), 22.
Draft version only. This paper has been published as ‘Nazism and Religion: The Problem of “Positive Christianity,”’ Australian Journal of Politics and History 60, no.1 (March 2014), 28–42. All rights reserved © Samuel Koehne, 2014. The definitive version is available at http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/ajph.12043/full
20
precepts of the Christian religion, as they are laid down in Holy Scripture and dogma.”59
He went on to add that no such form of faith could be found in Nazism, particularly
given that the Nazi Programme advocated measuring religion by the “moral feelings of
the Germanic race.”60 What we arrive at then is the paradox of Hitler’s dogma. In his
most public statement it is clear that Hitler defined Christianity as a religious system
precisely in terms of dogmatic faith. It is equally clear that those leading Nazis who
declared themselves to be Christian adhered not to a dogmatic form like that the
Catholic or Protestant orthodox position, but to a radical and “Aryanised” form of faith.
Hitler’s own definition meant that the Nazis were decidedly “un-Christian.”
Conclusion
n simple form, the Nazis were trying to have it both ways, and this tension could
be found in the NSDAP Official Commentary (by Gottfried Feder) which
formed Volume 1 of the National Socialist Library. Discussing the programme
requirements in detail, Feder listed a series of individual points in a section specifically
designed “for practical advertising” of the Party or as translated in both English-language
editions of the time: “It will make for clarity, when enlisting new members, to make use
of the programme in the form which follows.” This was the form in which the
programme was to be promoted. Feder dealt with the concepts of Point 24 in discussing
the means by which the Nazis would achieve their “cultural policy,” including through:
27. Complete freedom of religion and conscience
28. Special protection of the Christian creeds
59 Alfons Steiger, Der neudeutsche Heide im Kampf gegen Christen und Juden, 2nd (Katholizismus und Judentum) ed. (Berlin: Germania, 1924), 188. In German: “Wir können unter positivem Christentum nichts anderes verstehen als das gläubige Hinnehmen der positiv gegebenen Glaubenslehren und sittlichen Gesetze der christlichen Religion, wie sie niedergelegt sind in Heiliger Schrift und Dogma, und das praktische Leben nach dieser Ueberzeugung.” 60 Ibid., 185–88.
I
Draft version only. This paper has been published as ‘Nazism and Religion: The Problem of “Positive Christianity,”’ Australian Journal of Politics and History 60, no.1 (March 2014), 28–42. All rights reserved © Samuel Koehne, 2014. The definitive version is available at http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/ajph.12043/full
21
29. Suppression and obstruction of doctrines which are contrary to the
German moral sense and whose content is of a character destructive to
the state and Volk.61
These three points are significant and when the Nazis came to power, freedom of
religion and conscience became very controversial. Rudolf Hess, Hitler’s deputy,
proclaimed “freedom of conscience” in religious belief in a statement issued on 13
October 1933. He was publicly responding to a declaration by Ludwig Müller to the
effect that no pastor would suffer detriment if he was not a member of the German
Christians. Hess turned the statement around to focus on the Nazi Party: “I order that
no National Socialist shall be disadvantaged because he does not commit himself to a
particular faith or confession, or because he does not belong to any confession whatsoever.”
This was hardly reassuring to the German Christians, who up to this point believed that
they were the true adherents of “positive Christianity” and were supported by the
NSDAP as such. 62
The second point is even more intriguing. The Nazi Party promised “special
protection of the Christian creeds”–Glaubensbekenntnisse, literally “confessions of faith.”
This was support for positive Christianity in its traditional sense: doctrinal faith and
adherence to the Christian confessions.63 If “positive Christianity” meant something
other than adherence to the creeds then this was subterfuge. It also means that if the
61 Gottfried Feder, Das Programm der N.S.D.A.P. und seine weltanschaulichen Grundgedanken, Nationalsozialistische Bibliothek, Vol.1 (Munich, 1934), 30–33. See also Gottfried Feder, Hitler’s Official Programme and its Fundamental Ideas (1934; repr.. New York, 1971), 64; Gottfried Feder, The Programme of the NSDAP and its General Conceptions, trans. E.T.S. Dugdale (Munich, 1932), 29. 62 Hess, as quoted in Die Warte des Tempels 90 (1933), 161. My emphasis. On this declaration: Klaus Scholder, The Churches and the Third Reich: Preliminary History and the Time of Illusions, 1918–1933, vol. 1 (London, 1987), 525, 673; Peter Matheson, The Third Reich and the Christian Churches: A Documentary Account of Christian Resistance and Complicity During the Nazi Era (Edinburgh, 1981), 38. Cf. Hitler, Mein Kampf (Manheim ed.), 514. 63 “Glaubensbekenntnis,” Karl Breul, A German and English Dictionary (London, 1928). The specific example provided was the “Apostles’ Creed (Apostolisches Glaubensbekenntnis).”
Draft version only. This paper has been published as ‘Nazism and Religion: The Problem of “Positive Christianity,”’ Australian Journal of Politics and History 60, no.1 (March 2014), 28–42. All rights reserved © Samuel Koehne, 2014. The definitive version is available at http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/ajph.12043/full
22
term was meant to indicate a particular “Nazi” form or type of Christian faith, then this
was akin to secret knowledge or Gnosticism. As advertised to its own members, the
NSDAP was protecting orthodox Christianity.
Finally, the Nazi Party promised to suppress doctrines that opposed German
moral sense. 64 Officially, the Nazis were simultaneously supporting traditional
Christianity and completely undermining it. Members of the Nazi Party could apparently
adhere to the existing creeds of Christian faith so long as the doctrines of their faith were
“Germanic” or Aryanised––which destroyed traditional Christian faith. From all of this,
one gains the sense that from the outset there was no “commonly-held interpretation”
for positive Christianity in the Nazi Party and that it was a “loose, unarticulated
construct.” It could apparently mean anything ranging from the dogmas of the Catholic
Church and Papal authority through to Liebenfels’ views.
As I have shown, we are faced with a great deal of uncertainty about “positive
Christianity” and to argue it formed a particular Nazi “religious system” is problematic.65
It is unclear how a well-established theological term came to be incorporated in the Nazi
Party Programme, although three points are clear. First, the generally understood
meaning of “positive Christianity” (including in the vernacular) was orthodox faith.
Secondly, this was the exact opposite of the sort of liberal-rationalist Christianity that
could form the closest connection to Nazism. Thirdly, if this term was not in fact
describing orthodox faith, then it was already in the realm of a political ploy––and was
actually used as such. In light of these conlcusions, far more research needs to be
undertaken as to how “ordinary” Christians in Germany understood positive
64 For a further consideration and a statement of my own position, see the forthcoming article: Samuel Koehne, “The Racial Yardstick: ‘Ethnotheism’ and Official Nazi Views on Religion,’ German Studies Review (October 2014). 65 Steigmann-Gall, Holy Reich, 49.
Draft version only. This paper has been published as ‘Nazism and Religion: The Problem of “Positive Christianity,”’ Australian Journal of Politics and History 60, no.1 (March 2014), 28–42. All rights reserved © Samuel Koehne, 2014. The definitive version is available at http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/ajph.12043/full
23
Christianity, including as it appeared in the Nazi Programme. In addition, much greater
care needs to be taken in the historiography in considering the variety of meanings of
positive Christianity.