The Church of Saint Blase of the Armenians in Rome |
FBI Director, James B. Comey
sparked a diplomatic crisis last week when, in a speech at the United States
Holocaust Museum in Washington DC, he said:
“In their minds, the murderers and accomplices
of Germany, and Poland, and Hungary, and so many, many other places didn’t so
something evil. They convinced themselves it was the right thing to do, the
thing they had to do.”
Both the Polish President and the
Prime Minister were quick to react with the assertion—and the broadly truthful
assertion—that the Poles were victims of Nazi aggression and not
perpetrators. (I have to qualify
“truthful” with “broadly” because while Poland was invaded by Nazi Germany, and
while Poles themselves were treated as a captive nation and its people regarded
as semi-slaves of the Nazi State, and while a million and a half Poles were
sent to forced labor in Germany or in the Nazi Camps, and while hundreds of
thousands of Poles were imprisoned in Nazi Concentration camps, and while
almost 2 million Poles of non-Jewish blood were murdered by the Nazis in
addition to the three million Polish Jews who perished, there were Poles who
collaborated with the Nazi Regime. While
before the war only about 800,000 Poles claimed to be Germans, once the Reich
had subjected Poland approximately 3 million Polish citizens who could prove
German blood enrolled in the Volksdeutsche,
identifying them with their German ancestry and exempting them from the
discriminations imposed against their neighbors of Slavic blood. Among
Poles of Slavic lineage, only several thousand became active collaborators with
the Nazis—perhaps he lowest rate among the various conquered nations. On the other hand, a strong strain of
anti-Semitism that had been woven into Polish culture over the centuries—and
which had been enflamed in the 20th century by many Polish Catholic
sources including some of the publications under the editorship of Saint Maximilian
Kolbe—did not encourage Polish Catholics to resist the genocide that happened
in their midst. The Poles were not
responsible for the genocide but the question must remain: were they innocent
of the blood spilt in their midst?
That sounds harsh—and I will admit
it—perhaps it is time to rethink responsibility.
What brings this subject to the
fore is that this past week Pope Francis used the word “Genocide” to describe
the murder of one and a half million Armenians by the Ottoman Turks during
World War I. The Turks have reacted even
more strongly to the Pope than the Poles had to FBI Director Comey. It is a dicey subject. Due to Diplomatic
Pressure and NATO politics, President Obama has yet “to grow a pair” and call
the Armenian massacre for what it was.
That is a huge disappointment—akin to the disappointment many of us felt
in Pope Francis for his refusing to receive the Dalai Lama earlier this year
out of fear of repercussions from the Beijing government. Even the best of leaders occasionally need a
shot of testosterone. Ironically, Angela
Merkel of Germany is not backing away from the term Genocide—something that
given Germany’s glass house it takes a lot of chutzpah to do, but because
Germany has taken responsibility for the atrocities of the Nazi era, they certainly
can do.
The Holocaust was not the only
genocide for which the Third Reich must bear responsibility. In addition to the attempted wholesale
slaughter of European Jewry, Nazi policy aimed at whipping out the Romani
(Gypsy) population of Europe, resulting in the death of between a quarter and a
half million of the Roma. Some scholars
estimate that proportionately to their numbers, this was even more devastating
than the murder of the six million Jews.
Under the cover of their Nazi overlords, the Croat State led by Prime
Ministers Ante Pavelić and Nikola Mancić undertook the systematic slaughter not only of Jews and Roma people,
but the Serbian population. Under the same conditions, the Ukrainians, led
by Dmytro Klyachkivsky, initiated the slaughter of the Polish adult male population
of the Ukraine and Eastern Galicia. In
the same way, the Armenians were not the only victims of the Ottoman Turks as
there were programs of mass slaughter directed against both the Assyrian and
Greek populations of the Empire.
The twentieth century was marred by
many “ethnic cleansing” or genocidal programs. The 1994 Rwandan genocide and
the 1992-95 ethnic cleansing of Bosnian Muslims by Serbs are two more
examples. The policies of the government
of Indonesia against the indigenous population of East Timor, the policies of
the Beijing regime against Tibet, the policies of Sri Lanka against the Tamil
people—all are cited by some sources as “genocide,” and that tragically does
not exhaust the list. Indeed, there is a
danger of trivializing the whole concept of genocide by showing just how common
it has been. All too often religion has
played a role in genocide and no one’s hands—be they Catholic or Muslim or
Buddhist or Hindu or Jewish—can claim to be clean of their brothers’
blood.
This brings me to the point. Instead of trying to fix the blame for
genocide on one nationality or religion or other “grouping,” perhaps we all
need to own our collective responsibility for the occurrence and reoccurrence of
this heinous crime against God and against the human race. Turkey’s refusal to acknowledge responsibility
is pathetic but is not significantly different, in this world that has become a
global village, from your and my denial of complicity. I was not yet born during the Nazi atrocities
and granted, I can’t take responsibility for what happened in those years. I have,
however, lived through Rwanda and Kosovo and Bosnia and Cambodia and how many
other mass slaughters over the last half-century. Given the “global village” created by our mass
media, how do I differ from the villager in Oswiecim who saw the trains roll by
day and night, who saw the smoke by day and the sky lit by the eerie glow of
the furnaces by night, who smelled the foul air of burning flesh and went on
his daily life of Mass in the village Church, of going to work, of eating his
supper, of making love to his wife? The problem
is not simply that some government people in Ankara won’t take responsibility
or some officials in Warsaw are offended by a remark that hits too close to
home. The problem is that we all are cynical
enough to say to God at the end of the day, “Am I My Brother’s Keeper?”
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