A passage in Stephen Fry's novel, Making
History, pits a senior history
professor against a doctoral student.
The professor asks him if he knows which
group of concentration camp inmates bore
a purple triangle on their uniform. The
student does not, and starts guessing.
Was it Communists, Slavs, lesbians, Cossacks
or anarchists? he asks. Then he gives
up.
The plight of Germany's Jehovah's
Witnesses, or Bibelforscher (Bible
Students) as they were then called, has
not yet widely come to light. Compared
with the millions murdered on racial grounds,
the Witnesses form a relatively small
group of victims who were never the focus
of an extermination programme. Rather,
the Nazis wanted their re-education.
Nonetheless, a fifth of Germany's Jehovah's
Witnesses died as a result of opposing
the Nazi regime. When Hitler came to power
in 1933, there were about 25,000 Witnesses
among a German population of 65 million.
By the end of the war, more than 1,200
of them had been executed, mainly for
refusing military service, and of the
10,000 who were imprisoned, half had perished
in the concentration camps. Uniquely among
the victims of National Socialism, Jehovah's
Witnesses could have gained their freedom
at any point by signing a document officially
to renounce their faith. Yet only a tiny
fraction did so.
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The Witnesses' suffering during the
Third Reich has been neglected for a number
of reasons, not least because victims
wanted to put the horror of the immediate
past behind them and focus on rebuilding
their lives. When Germany began a frank
examination of the Nazi past in the Sixties,
conscientious objectors remained taboo.
The old tags of "coward" and
"traitor" lingered, a stigma
that even the former Chancellor Willy
Brandt, who worked for the Norwegian resistance,
could never lose. To commemorate the bravery
of the conscientious objectors might reflect
badly on all those ordinary Germans who
did go to war. Only in the past ten years
have German scholars started to give objectors
their due.
Television also contributes to the ignorance
over the Witnesses' fate, for when featuring
the Third Reich it concentrates on key
military events, or Hitler himself, at
the expense of minority groups. This is
a criticism made to me by Professor Christine
King of Staffordshire
University, a non-Witness whose research
on the new religions in Nazi Germany triggered
academic interest in the field. In the
past few years, however, several autobiographies
have appeared, and occasions such as Holocaust
Memorial Day have encouraged Witnesses
who were imprisoned in the concentration
camps to join the more familiar groups
of victims in relating their experiences,
particularly to the young.
Jehovah's Witnesses refuse to give allegiance
to any worldly government out of fidelity
to their belief in a future Kingdom of
God on earth. Therefore they do not vote
and will not bear arms. In totalitarian
Nazi Germany, where Fascist ideology aimed
to penetrate hearts and minds, such behaviour
quickly drew attention. Witnesses additionally
refused to give the Heil Hitler salute,
join the Nazi Party and display the Swastika
flag, all of which they considered an
idolatrous deification of the State and
its leader. "Heil" is related
to the German word for Saviour.
It was dangerous for Witnesses' children
to refuse the obligatory Hitler salute
each day at school. On Saturday last week,
to mark Holocaust Memorial Day, large
audiences in Penrith's Rheged Centre in
the English Lake District heard four Jehovah's
Witness victims speak about "Facing
the Lion". Magdalena Kusserow Reuter,
one of 11 siblings, told us how some kinder
teachers would allow her to wait outside
the classroom while the other children
gave the salute. But the more committed
Nazis among the teaching staff beat and
victimised her for her disobedience. One
teacher reported her parents to the Gestapo,
who later abducted her three younger siblings,
aged seven, nine and 13, and put them
in a reform institute. About 500 Witness
children suffered this fate.
Magdalena herself at the age of 17 was
too old for a youth institute but too
young to follow her parents to a concentration
camp, so she was sentenced to six months'
imprisonment, much of which she spent
in solitary confinement. At the end, she
was offered the chance to renounce her
faith by a kindly female guard but she
refused. Magdalena remembers that the
guard was almost reduced to tears by her
steadfastness. This encouraged her, she
told me, and allowed her to see the pain
of some of the Nazi conformers who respected
but could not match her principles. She
was later sent to Ravensbrück concentration
camp, where she learnt that one of her
older brothers had been shot and another
guillotined for refusing military service.
The National Socialist Party was inherently
hostile to Jehovah's Witnesses because
of their perceived internationalism -
they first sent missionaries to Germany
in 1890 - and links with the United States,
where the Witness movement was founded
in 1870. Witnesses' penchant for the Old
Testament, particularly the use of the
name Jehovah for God, led some Nazis to
align them with Judaism. Essentially,
the Witnesses' belief that God would establish
a 1,000-year rule on earth, sweeping away
all human governments including that of
the Nazi's Thousand-Year Reich, was viewed
as a competing ideology that could not
be tolerated.
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Professor King told me she sees the
persecution of the Jehovah's Witnesses
as the Nazis' first strike against religious
freedom, victimising a group they believed
could be stamped out swiftly and publicly.
Hitler had a personal vendetta against
the Witnesses, she says, while others
in the party believed persecution would
appease the Catholic and Protestant Churches,
who considered the Witnesses heretics,
while warning these Churches of the punishment
they would face for any insurrection of
their own.
In the summer of 1933 the Jehovah's
Witness congregation was branded part
of a Jewish-Bolshevik plot and banned
in most German states. The Gestapo took
over the Witnesses' headquarters and printing
site in Magdeburg and burned 25 lorryloads
of Bibles and the Witnesses' fortnightly
doctrinal journal, The Watchtower.
From 1935 Jehovah's Witnesses were ousted
from civil-service jobs and deprived of
all state benefits, while hundreds were
arrested for continuing to preach. Nonetheless,
in December 1936 and June 1937 Witnesses
still managed to blanket Germany with
leaflets, smuggled from Switzerland, detailing
the regime's abuses.
By 1938, Witnesses made up a tenth of
the pre-war concentration camp population.
They were treated particularly brutally
in this period, as the SS was determined
to break their will, but their spiritual
resistance rarely faltered. Rudolf Höss,
commandant of Auschwitz, would later write
in his memoirs that the SS chief Heinrich
Himmler used the "fanatical faith"
of the Jehovah's Witnesses to illustrate
the "unshakeable faith" he expected
from his own men. Himmler even planned
to stop the persecution of Witnesses after
the war and to expel them to the easternmost
reaches of the Reich to act as a buffer
state.
Höss regretted having so few Witnesses
at Auschwitz as they were reliable and
stoical workers who never attempted to
escape. The only duties they refused were
those relating to the German war effort,
including the tending of Angora rabbits,
whose fur was used for lining pilots'
jackets. Once the war and the Nazis' industrialised
mass killings were under way, some Witnesses
were given more privileged positions in
the camps, often as secretaries or domestic
servants, but the threat of arbitrary
punishment remained. One of those who
spoke at Penrith, an 88-year-old German
Jew, Max Liebster, remembered how in the
winter of 1940 a group of Witnesses in
Sachsenhausen, a camp north of Berlin,
were doused with water and then made to
stand outside all night in sub-zero temperatures.
By the morning a third had died.
Today Liebster speaks as a Jehovah's
Witness. His first encounter with the
group was in 1940, when he spent two weeks
handcuffed to a Witness during transportation
to Sachsenhausen. Liebster was impressed
by the Witnesses' fervour and resistance
to all combat. Once inside the camp, he
was intrigued by attempts to isolate them:
for example, any prisoner who spoke to
one of them was whipped. "What could
be so dangerous about the Bible?",
he remembers thinking. On the several
occasions when death seemed imminent,
a generous gesture by an inmate bearing
a purple triangle seemed to save his life.
Camp guards could never resolve the
dilemma of how to house Witness prisoners.
If placed with other prisoners, they tended
to make converts. If isolated, their tight
cohesion as a group and fervent belief
that their fate was part of the universal
struggle of good against evil gave them
an aura of courage which won the respect
of other prisoners.
The Jehovah's Witnesses did not set
out specifically to resist National Socialism,
and in June 1933 their American leader,
Joseph Rutherford, gave a "Declaration
of Facts" to Hitler. As the Nazis
had linked the congregation to Judaism,
much of this declaration was an attempt
to distance Witnesses from it. In doing
so, it used crude stereotypes of "commercialistic
Jews" who were alleged to be controlling
New York and London. At one point it even
stated that "the purely religious
and apolitical goals and objectives of
the Bible Students" (the name used
for the Witnesses at the time in Germany)
"are in complete harmony with the
similar goals of the National Government
of the German Reich".
Certain individuals who are hostile
to Witnesses continue to use this declaration
to
vilify the congregation. But Professor
King believes it should be understood
in its historical context, as an example
of a group confronting "the very
new challenge of Nazi Germany and trying
to find a way to help their religion survive".
King stresses that the Witnesses quickly
moved away from this position and were
openly condemning Hitler and anti-Semitism
within a few years.
Jehovah's Witnesses believe that the
world is under the sway of Satan and prepare
themselves for suffering and adversity.
During the Nazi regime they remained faithful
to their beliefs and consequently encountered
suffering and adversity in its most extreme
form. Even children stood firm, remembering
biblical stories of those who had also
been tested for their faith. Magdalena
Kusserow Reuter told me how, alone in
prison, she remembered the three Hebrews
who refused to worship King Nebuchadnezzar
of Babylon, the steadfastness of Job,
and the intercession for the Jews of Queen
Esther, who pleaded with her husband to
save them. Magdalena's own story, which
affirms this biblical tradition, is one
of many others like it that deserves to
be heard.