Francis I: Peace with Israel and the ‘Hitler’s Pope’ Dispute
By Miki Tasseni
First published , Business Times (Dar es Salaam)
One of the most intractable problems facing each incoming Pontiff at the Vatican is defining their attitude toward Israel—an issue inextricably linked to the Church’s controversial posture during Nazi Germany. For over a decade, Israel has debated whether Pope Pius XII, the wartime Pope who reportedly helped thousands of Jews escape Nazi concentration camps, should be honored at Yad Vashem as one of the “Righteous Among the Nations.” It’s a topic that Benedict XVI cautiously avoided.
Pope Pius XII, born Eugenio Maria Pacelli, indeed used Church networks—including Jesuit and Franciscan orders—to save Jews during World War II. However, prior to his papacy, as Papal Nuncio to Germany (1917–1929) and later as Vatican Secretary of State, he personally negotiated the Reichskonkordat—a pact of mutual non-interference between the Vatican and Nazi Germany. This pact, many historians agree, was crucial in legitimizing Hitler’s regime in the eyes of the Christian majority in Germany.
The ideological groundwork laid by German philosophers like Martin Heidegger—whose existentialism stripped away morality and humanism—echoed chillingly through the fanaticism of Nazi soldiers, Japanese kamikaze, Al-Qaeda bombers, and even certain radical Christian interpretations such as St. Paul’s maxim, “to live is Christ and death is gain.”
According to Wikipedia and other sources, Pius XII’s silence during the extermination of Jews remains highly controversial. Despite efforts to protect Jewish lives, the Vatican’s 1933 concordat with Hitler and its lack of public condemnation of the Holocaust have strained Rome’s relationship with Israel for decades. Albert Einstein, among others, strongly opposed any posthumous honor for Pius XII.
This tension resurfaced during Benedict XVI’s 2009 visit to Yad Vashem. Israeli officials and Holocaust survivors criticized his speech as lukewarm and evasive. As a German himself—once enrolled in the Hitler Youth and later drafted into the Wehrmacht—Benedict was perceived as being especially cautious.
Now enters Francis I, born Jorge Mario Bergoglio, a first-generation Italian-Argentine Jesuit. Though socially conservative like Benedict, he may carry fewer personal constraints on the Holocaust issue. Yet, growing up in Argentina—a post-war haven for Nazi fugitives—presents complications. Notably, Adolf Eichmann, one of the chief architects of the Holocaust, lived openly in Argentina before Mossad agents captured him.
Francis I, often described as “a pope from the ends of the earth,” is culturally close to old Europe—a likely reason for his appeal among Italian cardinals. His fluent Italian and Jesuit discipline made him an ideal continuity figure for the Church. But this cultural proximity means he may also be surrounded by similar ideological lobbies as his predecessor, just less burdened by personal Nazi associations.
The shadow of Benedict XVI, who now resides in the Vatican as a “pope emeritus,” looms large. Whether Francis I dares to revise the Church’s position on Pius XII remains to be seen. A meaningful gesture—perhaps an apology or recognition of wartime efforts—could open a new chapter with Israel, but only with significant theological and political courage.
Still, no papal visit to Israel can escape the gravity of history’s most haunting moral dilemma. As long as Israel views the Vatican’s past through the lens of the Reichskonkordat, and its perceived facilitation of Jewish persecution, reconciliation remains elusive.
To understand this period, one must recall that the concordat was forged not out of disdain for Jews, but from a political calculus: Hitler was seen as the bulwark against communism. At the time, persecution—not extermination—was the expected extent of Nazi aggression. Few, including the Vatican, foresaw genocide.
Scripture itself may offer a chilling prophetic lens. In Daniel 12:1, it is written:
“There shall be a time of trouble, such as never was since there was a nation… And at that time your people shall be delivered, every one who is found written in the book.”
Some theologians interpret this as a foretelling of the Holocaust. With six million Jews lost, and six million alive today, the echo of divine warning is unmistakable. Daniel’s prophecy also alludes to the era of globalization—a time of increased knowledge and movement, a world transformed in the wake of genocide.
The Holocaust had an unintended consequence: a moral rupture in European nationalism. Its horrors gave birth to the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (1948) and an enduring global distaste for the pagan ideals that fueled fascism. In that regard, God’s purpose may have prevailed—not through mercy, but through the shame left behind.
Francis I must balance the Church’s need for historical accountability with its efforts to retain support from conservative blocs in Europe. His appointment was, in part, a nod to continuity, and he may be more diplomatically agile than Benedict. But navigating this issue will be one of the defining tests of his papacy.
Correction by the Editor:
Pope Francis was born in Argentina. His father emigrated from Italy to escape fascism—not as part of Nazi-aligned networks. This places Francis’s historical relationship to World War II in a more neutral context. However, given the Church’s ongoing pressure to retain conservative support in Europe, his approach to Holocaust memory and Israeli relations will still be scrutinized—though likely with more flexibility than his predecessor.