Abstract

Reviewed by: Dianne Kirby, University of Ulster, Northern Ireland
In an era gripped by the rise of militant political religion, twenty-first century scholars are increasingly redressing the neglect of twentieth century scholars towards the religious dimension of that century, bringing to it fresh insights and new perspectives. Arne Hassing’s welcome study is the first critical book-length history of the Norwegian church’s resistance to Nazism. On the eve of the Second World War 96.5 per cent of the Norwegian population belonged to the Evangelical Lutheran Church. Hassing seeks to explain why Norwegian church resistance stood in marked contrast to its German mother church. Based on extensive international, multi-archival research, Hassing’s focus is on the national leadership of the Church of Norway. As the state church, it was the Nazi state’s primary target for the ‘New Order’ in church affairs. Although Hassing’s research reveals the church’s willingness to ‘risk its entire moral and political capital for the sake of retaining state ties, even to a Nazi state’ (xiii), it had learned lessons from the failure of the German Evangelical Church. These led to the pursuit of an alternative path, illustrating different understandings and applications of Lutheranism.
Hassing begins with an important chapter on German Protestantism that reminds the reader of the significance to it of the German Reformation, which gave Germany’s Protestant churches a common purpose and moral agenda. Even more importantly, alluding to the commanding conviction that Christianity was connected to a higher morality, Hassing stresses how the rise of National Socialism cannot be understood without acknowledging its Manichean claim to be struggling against evil. In Hitler’s Germany, as indeed elsewhere in the Christian West and subsequently during the Cold War, Communists were identified with godless atheism and hence as evil. Hitler linked Jews to Communists as joint threats to völkisch identity and culture. Hassing argues that Lutheran theology had elevated the German people to a preeminent order of creation and contributed to the emergence of a German Protestant ideology that fused Christianity, ethnicity, nationalism and anti-Semitism, pre-disposing its adherents to the new Germany advocated by Adolph Hitler. This factor, combined with Lutheran traditional acceptance that ‘the powers that be are ordained by God’, meant a propensity to accommodate the Nazi state.
In his examination of why and how Norwegian Christianity differed from that in Germany, Hassing highlights a range of internal and external factors that contributed to Norwegian church resistance. Noting the importance of ecumenism, Hassing’s study is a much-needed reminder of the significance of the ecumenical movement, the quest for Christian unity, at key moments in twentieth-century history. As Hassing demonstrates, the key figure leading the Norwegian church towards resistance rather than accommodation was Eivind J. Berggrav, Bishop of Oslo since 1937 and a committed ecumenist. Tellingly, Christian leaders were placed in an advantageous position vis-à-vis the Nazi state given that Josef Goebbels, head of the Ministry of Public Information and Propaganda, presented Barbarossa, the invasion of the Soviet Union, as a Christian crusade. Norwegian media, subjected to Nazi propaganda, emphasized the threat to Christianity and the church by a Soviet victory. Most Norwegian clergy held the conviction that Nazism was as incompatible with Christianity as was Communism. Their resistance to the former was greatly facilitated by the fact that Nazi officials were significantly constrained in implementing measures against the churches that could be construed as religious persecution, supposedly the preserve of Soviet Communism. However, Nazi crusade propaganda also provided justification for Norwegian supporters of the Nazi church. Those few Christians who supported the Nazi church were influenced by a pre-war fear of Soviet Communism with its notably adverse religious record. Combined with the theological tradition of state loyalty, this was a key factor in determining accommodationist attitudes. Nonetheless, Nazi plans for a Nazi church in Norway failed to come to fruition owing to a lack of adherents and to clerical support for resistance.
Whilst the resisting church did not escape Nazi repression and dissent was precarious and could lead to grave consequences, including internment, no clergymen were executed. Two theological students who joined a resistance unit were executed in July 1944. Following Norway’s liberation, collaborationist clergy were tried; however, sentences tended to be mild. Of those who received more severe sentences, most were released early. Very few convicted clergy requested reinstatement once their sentences were served, but some did. Their defence was adherence to the Lutheran tradition of loyalty to the state and choosing pro-Christian Nazism over anti-Christian Bolshevism. Ten were reinstated.
Increased church attendance during the war meant Christian leaders anticipated post-war spiritual renewal. However, wartime conditions made the churches ‘safe’ locations for expressing dissidence and patriotism rather than religiosity. With the war’s end, church attendance dropped to pre-war levels. In reviewing the Church of Norway’s resistance to Nazism, Hassing suggests that church leaders had unrealistic hopes, based on an over-estimation of the church’s role in what was a multi-layered, multi-player resistance effort.
Hassing’s fascinating study is a significant contribution to the history of Norway and that of the Second World War. Equally, it is compelling testimony to the complexity of religio-political power and persistence.
