He urged the clergy to unite under one national church—the Reichskirche. A church where pastors and bishops would swear allegiance not to God, but to the Nazi party and to Hitler himself.
Under Hitler’s plan, the Reichskirche, or new National Church, would immediately stop publishing and preaching the Bible and declare that the Führer’s Mein Kampf was the greatest of all documents. They would also be required to remove all crucifixes, Bibles, and pictures of saints from the altar and put nothing on the altar but Mein Kampf. The swastika would replace the cross.
Church leaders were deeply divided. Some enthusiastically embraced Hitler’s plan to strip all “Jewish” elements from their religion and to ban pastors with any “Jewish” blood, like Bonhoeffer’s friend Franz Hildebrandt. Others considered this heresy.
Hitler was confident he could turn the German church into a Nazi church. “They will submit,” he said. Clergy “are insignificant little people, submissive as dogs, and they sweat with embarrassment when you talk to them.”7
But a handful of these “insignificant little people,” including Bonhoeffer, Franz Hildebrandt, and others, had begun to quietly fight back. They could scarcely believe that the church had not only failed to stand up to Hitler, but had now become an instrument of his oppression.
Bonhoeffer and the dissenters didn’t want to create a schism; they wanted to form a wing of the church that would put allegiance to God ahead of allegiance to the Nazi party, one that would give aid to those hurt by the new anti-Jewish laws and one that rejected the Aryan Paragraph. More than six thousand ministers signed on to a protest letter written by Bonhoeffer and Hildebrandt, forming the Pastors’ Emergency League.
Bonhoeffer sent out a letter warning this group of dissenting pastors to be on the lookout for undercover Nazi spies visiting their churches. He asked them to let him know immediately if Hitler’s men tried to interfere with congregations. Somehow, his letter fell into the wrong hands.
On July 24, 1933, two Gestapo agents arrived at Bonhoeffer’s door. Stop making trouble, he was told, or he would be sent to a concentration camp. Bonhoeffer was unbowed. He would soon take even bigger risks, but he would not put his fellow pastors in harm’s way. He told his fellow dissenters to destroy all leaflets critical of the Reichskirche and try to keep ministering to their parishes under the new constraints.
That fall, some leaders of Hitler’s new church staged a rally at a huge sports arena. Under a banner that read “One Reich. One People. One Church,” more than twenty thousand people gathered to pledge allegiance to the new Nazi religion, the Reichskirche.
SEVENTEEN
A DIFFERENT KIND OF RESISTANCE
1933–34
Dietrich Bonhoeffer sat alone in a damp, dreary apartment in London, feeding coins into a small gas heater. Demoralized, increasingly isolated from his church, and frustrated with his inability to rally the clergy against Hitler, he had accepted a post at a German parish in London.
Before he left, his superiors told him to take back his criticism of the Reichskirche. Instead, Bonhoeffer requested a meeting with Bishop Ludwig Müller, the head of Hitler’s new church. When Müller demanded that he remove his signature from the Pastors’ Emergency League petition, Bonhoeffer refused. When he tried to explain why, Müller cut him off and sent him away.
Bonhoeffer had moved to London to make a statement: He would not be part of a church that didn’t stand up for the Jews. He also told friends that he would use the time to reflect on his future. And so, as he sat in his chilly apartment, he thought and thought, just as he had as a boy in his backyard.
He loved the church. He had committed his life to it. And he had tried to reform it, as he had promised his brothers long ago. Would he walk away from the church now that it was the Nazi church? Or did the church need him now more than ever? He was an avowed pacifist, a lowly junior pastor. But a dangerous new question had begun to take shape in his mind: Was there another way he could fight Hitler? Bonhoeffer wrote to his friend Hildebrandt, telling him he was beginning to think that something greater would be required of him: a different kind of resistance. “A ‘resistance unto death.’”1
As he grappled with what shape this resistance would take, he turned for comfort to his favorite New Testament passage, the Sermon on the Mount. He wondered: What did it really mean to be a disciple of Christ? He stayed up late into the night writing. Listening to God was not enough, he wrote. To be a true disciple, a person has to act. Or, as Jesus said to his disciples, a man must “take up his cross and follow me.” (Matthew 16:24)
He was keenly aware of the next Gospel verse. “For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it; but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” (Matthew 16:25)
From all outward appearances, Bonhoeffer was ministering to a lower-class parish of butchers’ and bakers’ families by day and writing a weighty theological treatise in his apartment by night. And by now Hildebrandt had resigned his post as a parish priest to protest the Nazi interference in the church and had fled to London, where he joined Bonhoeffer. The two of them went to museums and concerts and appeared to be having a great time. But Bonhoeffer had already begun to take up a new form of resistance.
Through a series of connections, he made secret contact with a powerful member of the House of Lords, Archbishop George Bell. Bell had kept his distance from the official representatives of the German church in England, but he liked the mannerly young Bonhoeffer. And he listened intently as Bonhoeffer told him about the Nazi campaign to take over the church. He told him about the impact of the Aryan laws. And he asked Bell to use his position as a member of Parliament to speak out.
Bell created a stir when he wrote a letter to the Times of London and an editorial for an influential religious journal laying out the ways the Nazis had corrupted the church. He also wrote to religious leaders in other countries, asking them to speak out against the Nazis. Back in Germany, Hitler’s men were furious. Who had gone to this British official behind their backs? To conspire with a foreign government—especially one of the enemies that had defeated Germany in the Great War—wasn’t just dangerous. According to the Malicious Practices Act, the measure that granted emergency powers to Hitler, it was treason.
CONTROLLING THE CHURCH
In an effort to cover up the division within the church, a law was passed declaring that discussions about the church could only take place inside churches. Members of the clergy were prevented from talking to the press; if they did, they would be kicked out of the church. All church youth groups would now be required to become chapters of Hitler Youth.
They quickly discovered the source of the information: It was that meddlesome young minister, Dietrich Bonhoeffer.
Soon, Bonhoeffer received an urgent demand from his superior. He was to return to Berlin immediately. When Bonhoeffer sat down at a long wooden table in the offices of the Reichskirche in Berlin, the bishop placed a document in front of him and told him to sign it. It was a pledge of compliance, an agreement to refrain from any contact with other churches or any speech critical of the regime.
Bonhoeffer studied the pledge in front of him. He had come home to meet with the bishop, as demanded; that act, he vowed to himself, would be “his last act of obedience”2 to the church. He pushed the piece of paper back across the table and left the room.
EIGHTEEN
NIGHT OF THE LONG KNIVES
1934
A letter on rough, cream-colored stationery was waiting for Bonhoeffer when he came home on a crisp November day. “Dear friend,” it said. “You can come whenever you like. The sooner the better . . . You will be staying with me if I am out of prison and . . . if you can live on the simple vegetarian food . . . you will have nothing to pay for your boarding and lodging.”1
It was signed “MK Gandhi.”
Finally, Bonhoeffer would get to sit at the feet of the great teacher of nonviolent resistance. He had been studying Gandhi’s methods for a long time and now believed that Hi
tler might be stopped by using those same techniques in Germany. His friends and mentors disagreed, saying the passive resistance put forth by Gandhi was no match for the brutality of the Nazis. But Bonhoeffer said the exact opposite was true. The future of his church—and his nation—depended on answering that brutality with such gentle ways. “It sometimes seems to me that there’s more Christianity in [India’s] ‘heathenism’ than in the whole of our Reichskirche,”2 he said.
The timing of the trip was ideal. He would leave the next fall and miss the cold Berlin winter. More important, he would be far from the sights of the Nazis. And that past summer, Hitler’s men had shown just how far they would go to silence those who opposed them.
Back on June 29, 1934, while Berlin slept, storm troopers roamed the streets. Men and women were dragged out of bed. Some were shot in their own homes; others died by firing squads in back alleys. Most were political opponents who’d spoken out against the Führer; two were generals who had simply disagreed with him. By the time the sun rose, after what would be called the Night of the Long Knives, Hitler announced that the raids had been necessary to stop a threat to his own life. He said seventy-four people had been shot. But Dohnanyi, through his secret sources, found evidence that more than two hundred people had been murdered. He couldn’t prove it, but it was possible that as many as a thousand people had been killed or hauled off to concentration camps.
THE NUREMBERG LAWS
In 1935 the Nuremberg Laws were passed. Called the Laws for the Protection of German Blood and German Honor, they stated that “the purity of German blood is essential to the further existence of the German people,” and set out these new laws:
•Marriages between Jews and citizens of German blood are forbidden.
•Extramarital intercourse between Jews and subjects of the German state are forbidden.
•Jews will not be permitted to employ female citizens of German or kindred blood as domestic workers under the age of forty-five.3
Later that summer, the German president, Paul von Hindenburg, a revered war hero, passed away. It was an emotional and patriotic moment when Hitler summoned his troops to a garrison in Berlin in the middle of the night. By flickering torchlight, he asked the grieving soldiers to renew their oath of allegiance. But when they raised their hands, they found themselves swearing an oath of unconditional obedience not to their country but to Adolf Hitler himself.
NINETEEN
A BREAKAWAY CHURCH
1934–37
A ramshackle house surrounded by small buildings with thatched roofs stood nearly hidden in the dunes of the German seacoast. A mile from town, it couldn’t be seen from any of the neighboring farms. It was the perfect place for Bonhoeffer to work, far from the prying eyes of the Nazis, on the founding declaration for a new church. One that would “speak out for those who cannot speak.”1
He had come to the seaside town of Zingst with meager funds from the Pastors’ Emergency League and a handful of idealistic young theology students to create a seminary for the new Confessing Church. Together they painted the walls, scrubbed the floors, and repaired the roof. Bonhoeffer threw himself into the work, even though he had agonized about his new mission. He had given up the chance to study with Gandhi. He had given up the safety of London. But he would not give up on the church—or at least on creating a new wing that would speak so loudly against Hitler that the rest of the world would have to listen.
THE 1936 OLYMPIC GAMES
When Germany was selected to host the Olympics in 1936, Hitler initially tried to prohibit Jews and blacks from participating. He saw the games as a chance to showcase a “new Germany” and the Aryan master race. But US track-and-field star Jesse Owens, an African American athlete, was the star of the games, winning four gold medals; the German track team won only one. Bonhoeffer attended the games but was not in the stands on the day of Owens’s victory.
“Perhaps I seem to you rather fanatical,” he wrote to his brother Karl-Friedrich. “I myself am sometimes afraid of that. . . . Things do exist that are worth standing up for without compromise. To me it seems that peace and social justice are such things.”2
Later the seminary would move to an abandoned estate in the hills of Pomerania. In this idyllic setting, the men read, meditated, did manual labor, and listened to Bonhoeffer’s Negro spirituals. He was the leader of the community—and still a sporty dresser, in his linen suits and silk ties, but he insisted on being called “brother,” just like the others. By day, he put them through rigorous studies, led the choir, and played soccer with them; by night, he worked on his call to action for the formation of a new church—one that would directly challenge Adolf Hitler.
That piece of writing would become a book called The Cost of Discipleship. It is a book that has gone down in history as one of the most important religious texts ever written. It is not enough to simply believe in God, Bonhoeffer says. That is “cheap grace.”3 One must take actions based on that belief.
Bonhoeffer urged the members of the new Confessing Church to adopt a mission statement that would declare their opposition to the Nazis. The Pastors’ Emergency League debated and debated. But they could not take such a bold step.
Bonhoeffer was bitterly disappointed. Meanwhile, he received a letter from Berlin University. He had been fired. Furthermore, he was prohibited from all teaching or public speaking in Berlin. Then he got word that Franz Hildebrandt had been arrested. Bonhoeffer and some friends got Hildebrandt released and quickly spirited out of the county.
But Bonhoeffer would not give up. Quickly, he set out on a trip through Europe, asking church leaders in Italy, France, and Switzerland to intervene in Germany. He begged. He pleaded. Please, he asked his fellow ministers, do something. But none of them would take a stand against Hitler. He wrote to his friend Eberhard Bethge around this time, saying he was suffering a deep “sadness of the heart.”4
EVENTS OF 1935–37
•September 1935—The Nuremberg Laws are passed, safeguarding the purity of “German blood and German honor.”
•August 1936—Olympic Games are held in Berlin.
•December 1936—All German children are required to join the Hitler Youth.
•July 1937—Martin Niemöller, a leading cleric critical of Hitler, is arrested.
TWENTY
A CONSPIRACY BEGINS
1937–38
Hans von Dohnanyi, Dietrich’s brother-in-law, had become edgy and secretive. The whole family, gathered for dinner at their parents’ home, had noticed. Usually, after the meal, he and Klaus went into the study to talk. Tonight, he took Dietrich aside. He needed advice. It was an ethical question, he said.
At dinner that evening, the conversation had been grim. Unless the Nazi regime was stopped, Germany would plunge into war, they all agreed. Some people they knew—wealthy, well-connected Germans—were leaving the country. Political prisoners were being rounded up in the middle of the night and disappearing. The old, the sick, and the disabled were being described as “useless eaters” or “life unworthy of life.”1 What had become of their country? What should they do?
As the conversation swirled around him, Hans was silent. Later he confided in Dietrich.
He had bad news, news that would affect Sabine and Gert. Because of his job in the Justice Ministry, Dohnanyi had advance information about a new restriction that would be imposed on Jews. The passports of all those of Jewish descent would soon be stamped with the letter J, meaning they could not leave the country.
He also explained why he’d become so secretive. In a locker hidden in a town about twenty miles outside Berlin, he’d amassed a collection of documents, photographs, and witness statements about the Nazis’ abuse of power. He had proof of the disappearance of political enemies, Jews, and others. Detailed records of the arrests and torture. Proof of the ways that Hitler’s underlings had swindled Jewish citizens out of possessions and money. The files were a record he called the Chronicle of Shame.
Then he told
Bonhoeffer a secret that would change his life: Dohnanyi and a small band of conspirators, including Klaus Bonhoeffer, Rüdiger Schleicher (Bonhoeffer’s brother-in-law), and others were plotting to overthrow Hitler. The conspirators were patriotic men who took their oath of allegiance to Germany very seriously. They knew they would be killed if they committed treason, but they were willing to take the risk.
HIDING THE EVIDENCE
Many key pages in Bonhoeffer’s 1938 and 1939 diaries have been torn out. Most of these dates correspond to important days in the early formation of the conspiracy. So no one knows exactly when Bonhoeffer signed on, but around this time, Bonhoeffer began using code words in his diaries and letters, in case they fell into Nazi hands. “Uncle Rudi” became a code for Hitler’s preparations for war. Uncle Rudi was a real person, Bonhoeffer’s uncle, Count Rüdiger von der Goltz. But whenever Bonhoeffer or the conspirators said they were worried about Uncle Rudi’s health or discussed the Uncle Rudi situation, they were secretly relaying information about the war.
But Dohnanyi had a question for his brother-in-law, the theologian: Was it a sin to commit treason?
Bonhoeffer told him that he and the other conspirators would indeed be subject to God’s judgment for their actions. But, he said, God would forgive whatever sins they had to undertake to stop a madman. “Silence in the face of evil is itself evil,” he would later write. “Not to speak is to speak. Not to act is to act.”2
Bonhoeffer had given Dohnanyi and the other members of the conspiracy the spiritual fortitude and moral justification to act. But he was an avowed pacifist, dedicated to peaceful resistance; he still didn’t know what his role should be.
MEMBERS OF THE CONSPIRACY
The innermost circle of the conspiracy was led by Hans von Dohnanyi, Bonhoeffer’s brother-in-law, who was first a lawyer at the Supreme Court and later an official at the Abwehr, the German intelligence agency. In his position, he had early notice of the Aryan laws; later he collected a detailed file of Nazi atrocities. Klaus Bonhoeffer, an attorney at the German airline Lufthansa, used his position to travel to other countries to try to build support for the overthrow of Hitler. Rüdiger Schleicher, who was married to Ursula Bonhoeffer, was an aviation official; his role was to secure safe air travel for the new government after the coup. Dietrich Bonhoeffer was a courier and spy for the resistance and was the moral conscience of the group.