Pius XII's Tragic Mistake

As the world knows, Pope John XXIII, the successor of Pius XII, was supposed to be nothing more than an interim Pope. Although no historian is aware of the balloting in the conclave that elected him, nevertheless, it was well understood that he was a compromise candidate. Both the liberals and the conservatives evidently decided to elect an old man who would serve for two or three years, thereby giving an opportunity to the electors to decide upon a more energetic personage to occupy Peter's Throne. This was pleasant news to the leftist organizations within the Church. To their mind, it would give them time to implement their philosophies and policies to meet the pressing problems of the day. And the common hope of all—both liberal and conservative in the clerical world—was polarized upon a happy death for the aging Pontiff who was supposed to be a "do nothing" or, at best, an affable old gentleman.

Every Bishop in Europe was conscious of current feelings which were almost malevolent towards the Papacy. They were openly expressed, particularly in Germany, Belgium, Holland, France, Hungary, Italy and Austria for two specific and somewhat unrelated reasons: the first because Pius XII, so it was said, ruled with too firm a crosier, particularly in the matter of condemning the French working priests. Secondly, because this same Pontiff, so it was widely suspicioned, had gone beyond his Papal powers in de-neutralizing the Church in World War II, thereby taking the part not only of Great Britain, France and the United States but also the part of Communist Russia against Nazi Germany, Italy and their economic dependents, many of whom were still ardent Catholics; and who in no sense accepted the doctrines of either Hitler or Mussolini.

These thoughts and suspicions beclouded the entire conclave and its election of Pope John XXIII to his Pontifical office.

Angelo Giuseppe Roncalli, after having spent his tour as Nuncio in Paris, was more conscious of these two anti-Papal elements than any other Cardinal in the Church. In those days Paris was the focal point of international diplomacy and, almost as much as Rome, the pivotal point of ecclesiastical scandal, rumor, modernistic philosophy and anti-Papal rebellion. In this city were funneled the findings and expressions of Austrian, Hungarian, German, Belgian and Dutch neo-moderns. What were mere suspicions relative to the de-neutralization of the Church in America were already accepted as fact in Europe. To treat these suspicions as inanities or to attempt to dissolve them them with euphemistic denials was out of the question simply because many clergymen already had acquired too much information both through the channels of the American State Department and the purple fringe of the Vatican.

More than any other man, Cardinal Roncalli, later John XXIII, knew that an inner-sanctum crisis was at hand for the Catholic Church. Although he was a farmer's son, he was exceedingly more learned than an ordinary theologian, than a dabbling liturgician or a second-hand sociologist; he was conscious that an act of God was needed to still the angry waves which were threatening to swamp the Bark of Peter. Like his ancient predecessor, he must have exclaimed, "Lord, save us else we perish!"

Few contemporaries recognized that beneath his placid disposition there was hidden an iron will, a compassionate heart and a piercing understanding—together with a scholarly curiosity. One can surmise that amongst his first activities in the solitude of his study at the Vatican was to order his secretary to place upon his desk the incontestable documents which passed between the war-makers of Europe and America and the Holy See. He was determined that suspicion must give way to fact and likewise determined to placate the offended Catholics of the European nations who were affected and betrayed when Pius XII chose to de-neutralize the Church.

Imagine his consternation when he discovered the truth. Imagine the thoughts which raced through his mind when he began to measure the antipathies which had grown up outside Rome against the primacy of the Papacy!

After quick consultations with his Curial advisers and intimate friends, John startled the entire world when he decided to convene Vatican II. Neither months nor weeks, let alone years, should delay this assemblage of the Hierarchy of the world to heal the wounds of more than 120 million Catholics resident in Europe alone who had been affected by this de-neutralization. Thus, this energetic Pope advertised that it was time to let fresh air into the Vatican. In his own heart he knew it was time to defend the Papacy from those inside the Church who were inclined to debase it because his predecessor had committed one of the most egregious faux pas in diplomacy in the entire history of Christendom.

Instead of having opened a Pandora's box in convening Vatican II, John was simply trying to close the lid; or, simply trying to act as a physician to heal the wounds already afflicted by the indefensible decision of his predecessor.

These thoughts are expressed to suggest a reason for the current anti-Papalism now existing inside the Catholic Church. They also suggest why so many Catholics, particularly in Italy, France and Western Europe have grown lukewarm, to put it mildly, towards the Catholic Church to such a degree that they do not anticipate any actions on the part either of the Pope or of the Hierarchy to restimulate the growth of Christianity or prevent the spread of Marxism throughout Europe.

The above thoughts also give understanding in these days of confusion to statements such as issued by Cardinal Koenig at the Toronto assemblage referred to in a previous chapter that Catholics should not be concerned so much in opposing Communism as learning how to live with it. This dignitary and many others are seemingly convinced that the old Christian world, which existed before Marxism, is really dead; that the new world dominated by Moscow (as far as Europe is concerned) has arrived.

It would not be surprising if, a hundred years from now, historians will appraise the fifty years between 1891 and 1941 as the most disastrous in the history of the Catholic Church. They began with the Industrial Revolution and Leo XIII; they ended with the completion of the Russian Revolution and Pius XII. Leo specifically pointed out the menace of Communism and the means that Catholic Bishops should take to offset it. For fifty years the Bishops minimized Marxism and continued with their placid programs as if Leo had never spoken, this was the greatest sin of omission attributed to the world-wide Catholic hierarchy in its entire history. Then, when World War II was under way, Pius XII, who had already antagonized the French clergy in the case of French working priests, permitted himself in a moment of weakness to be ecclesiastically blackmailed, particularly by Winston Churchill and Franklin D. Roosevelt. These gentlemen composed the threats while Myron Taylor, Roosevelt's personal representative to the Vatican, voiced them to Pius XII. As a result, Vatican and Papal neutrality in World War II was destroyed.

As a result of his unfortunate breach of neutrality, Pius XII conveyed the impression to Europeans that the Allies, including Russia, were the victimized and innocent parties, while the German, Italian, Austrian, Hungarian, Dutch and Nordic nations were the total aggressors and sole diabolic sinners.

As late as my last trip to Europe in 1966, this was the opinion conveyed to me by many reputable persons in many countries which I visited. In my mind, there is no question that the Catholics on both sides of the war lamented this unexplainable act—unexplainable to them, possibly, but not to Americans who were close to Mr. Roosevelt and to some of his bigoted advisers.

Assessing that half century between 1891 and 1941 as the cycle of the greatest disaster suffered by the Church, it is difficult to prevision how the human element upon which depends, in a sense, the edifice of Christianity, can regain its prominence. Those fifty years were the climax of the preceding centuries when the Holy Spirit had been neglected; when secularism, Caesarism and humanism had been substituted for the spiritual concept of life.

God is not a pluralistic entity, nor does He regard nationalities or races as specifically different human beings. He is the one God and Father of all, above all and for all, Who cannot, in His infinite justice, heed the prayers of one nation against another, or of one race against another. To do so would make Him pluralistic.

Insofar as the Holy Father is the representative of God, he too may not be pluralistic, but must retain his neutrality when members of his flock are scattered over the face of the earth and resident under every flag.

Now that John XXIII has passed to his reward, his successor, Paul VI, knows what John found out for himself. He too has measured the effects of the two items of the French worker-priests and the de-neutralization of the Catholic Church during World War II. And he has done in recent weeks what John had planned to do had not death intervened.

Just recently a new light has been shed upon this controversial subject which will prove important when historians assess the distinction between fallibility and infallibility.