Skip to main content

“Who is our neighbour?” A German Mennonite Reflection on Blood, Race and the Limits of Love, 1934

Jesus' parable of the Good Samaritan is prefaced by a discussion eternal life and the question, "Who is my neighbour?" (cf. Luke 10:25–29).

In the 1920s and 30s, the Mennonite denominational papers in Germany always, always highlighted the plight and need of their Russian Mennonite co-religionists languishing under Stalin. These were “their” neighbours, “their” refugees or “their” hungry and imprisoned. And that is good.

But our life stories are always complex—aspects later generations will praise, aspects they will reject, and some things they will abhor deeply. So it is with this story—of the Mennonites in Germany who embraced Russian Mennonites.

In 1934 Dirk Cattepoel (b. 1912; note 1) was a young German Mennonite doctoral student and soon-to-be pastor of the Krefeld Mennonite Church in Germany. He answered that biblical question in the Mennonitische Blätter with a longer article that denominational leaders would point to and cite favourably over the next years.

For Germans—including German Mennonites—the neighbour “is the one who shares his being, whose own blood flows through him, whose soul is his soul. … Because he must love and help his neighbor, he will have to destroy the one who threatens the development of that life. … Love necessarily implies guilt, which is the tragedy of human life. … We are members of the German Volk [ethnic peoplehood]. But because we are Christians who affirm this earthly life, it seems to us to be our highest duty before God, to love our Volk and our Volk colleagues, to help them with all of our strength … . The German is our neighbor, to whom we are committed with our love and strength. Our neighbour cannot be a Negro, Japanese, or Jew. … Our limited strengths are claimed by the neighbor and cannot take the others into consideration.”

Cattepoel cites Hitler’s book Mein Kampf affirmatively: "What we have to fight for is the necessary security for the existence and increase of our race and Volk, the subsistence of its members and keeping pure its blood, the freedom and independence of the Fatherland; so that our Volk may be enabled to fulfil the mission assigned to it by the Creator of the universe.”

To this Cattepoel adds that “as Christians we stand—fully conscious of our Christian duty—behind the government, which with a Christian sense of responsibility represents the interests of the whole Volk to the world.” (Note 2)

For Cattepoel—like Prussian Mennonite doctoral student and pastor Horst Quiring (son-in-law to Benjamin Unruh) and others (note 3)—Christian ethical bearings should be oriented by the “created orders” (e.g., race). Whereas Mennonites have sometimes pointed to the “image of God” or the Sermon on the Mount as starting points for ethics, Cattepoel and Quiring elevated blood, Volk and race as the decisive categories for Mennonite faith and moral obligation.

In the months prior to the publication of this article in the Mennonite press, new laws had already excluded Jews from the civil service. The Nazi Party and its affiliated organizations had also organized nationwide boycotts of Jewish-owned businesses in Germany, and in October 1933 a new German law forbid all non-“Aryans” from working in journalism.

A decade later Russian Mennonites “resettlers” were embraced by this loving, caring and deeply racist Mennonite fold in Warthegau—German annexed Poland. Mennonites in Prussia had done all the archival genealogical work needed to ensure all Russian Mennonites would have Aryan identity cards that would be given the same privileges in Nazi Germany as they had and official recognition, with a particular pure line and high percentage of Nordic, Frisian blood. They ensured that Mennonite resettlers could practice their faith. For example, Prussian Mennonites helped set up the legal articles of incorporation for the new “Conference of Mennonite Congregations of German Nationality in the Province of Wartheland” (Mennonitische Gemeindekirche Deutscher Nationalität im Reichsgau Wartheland). Accordingly, their statutes limited membership to those of “German nationality,” strictly defined in Nazi Germany by blood and Volk.

After the war in 1948, Pastor Dirk Cattepoel was one of two official German representatives at the Fourth Mennonite World Conference sessions held at Goshen, IN, and North Newton, KS.

Here Cattepoel asked Dutch and French Mennonites for forgiveness (see note 4).

He also told the global gathering that German Mennonites were in effect naïve or blind to the evils National Socialism and certainly not complicit. National Socialism approached them “with the motto, ‘Freedom and Bread!’ with a program for political and economical reconstruction, with social measures for the working classes, with a splendid welfare organization, and with a youth work doing justice to all the idealism of youth. Everything else—the black and the terrible—was kept in the background … I myself learned the names of the concentration camps … for the first time from an American soldier’s magazine in an American prisoner of war camp.” (Note 4)

Cattepoel had forgotten that the opening of Dachau Concentration camp in 1933, for example, was well publicized (see pic); he had forgotten his own acclaimed public recommendations to fellow Mennonites to exclude Blacks, Jews and Asians from the obligations of neighbourly love—precisely as Jews and others were being systematically excluded from public life and from protection and equality under the law. In 1940, his published “War Sermon” boldly proclaimed that Hitler’s triumph over France—the “enemy”—was nothing less than God at work (note 5).

Who is my neighbour? My people—the Russian Mennonites under Stalin--were always the “neighbour” for the German Mennonites, and we benefitted from their real generosity and brotherly love. But faith and blood were horribly intertwined. By 1948 Cattepoel had rediscovered the bonds of responsibility and love to French, Dutch and American Mennonites, but remained silent on the "Negro, Japanese or Jew."

            ---Arnold Neufeldt-Fast

---Notes---

Pic: Vincent Van Gogh, Good Samaritan, 1890, Kröller-Müller Museum, Otterlo, NL (US public domain, https://nsjonline.com/article/2020/10/the-word-love-thy-neighbor/).

Note 1: For a short biography, cf. Hans Adolf Hertzler, “Cattepoel, Dirk,” MennLex V, http://www.mennlex.de/doku.php?id=art:cattepoel_dirk. See also my essay, “German Mennonite Theology in the Era of National Socialism,” in European Mennonites and the Holocaust, edited by Mark Jantzen and John D. Thiesen, 125–152 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2020).

Note 2: Dirk Cattepoel, “Mennonit und Wehrwille (Fortsetzung 3),” Mennonitische Blätter 81, no. 5 (1934) 43f. https://mla.bethelks.edu/gmsources/newspapers/Mennonitische%20Blaetter/1933-1941/DSCF0916.JPG;  https://mla.bethelks.edu/gmsources/newspapers/Mennonitische%20Blaetter/1933-1941/DSCF0917.JPG;  https://mla.bethelks.edu/gmsources/newspapers/Mennonitische%20Blaetter/1933-1941/DSCF0918.JPG.

Note 3: Ibid; see also Horst Quiring, “The Anthropology of Pilgram Marbeck,” Mennonite Quarterly Review 9, no. 4 (October 1935), 155–164.

Note 4: Dirk Cattepoel, “The Mennonites of Germany, 1936-1948, and the Present Outlook,” in Fourth Mennonite World Conference Proceedings, August 3–10, 1948, edited by P. C. Hiebert 14-22 (Akron, PA: Mennonite Central Committee, 1950), https://archive.org/details/FourthMWCProceedings1948/page/n31/mode/2up.

Note 5: Cattepoel, “Gottes Schritt im Weltgeschehen,” Mennonitische Blätter 87, no. 4 (July 1940), 25, https://mla.bethelks.edu/gmsources/newspapers/Mennonitische%20Blaetter/1933-1941/DSCF1399.JPG.





Print Friendly and PDF

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The End of Schardau (and other Molotschna villages), 1941

My grandmother was four-years old when her parents moved from Petershagen, Molotschna to Schardau in 1908. This story is larger than that of Schardau, but tells how this village and many others in Molotschna were evacuated by Stalin days before the arrival of German troops in 1941. -ANF The bridge across the Dnieper at Chortitza was destroyed by retreating Soviet troops on August 18, 1941 and the hydroelectric dam completed near Einlage in 1932 was also dynamited by NKVD personnel—killing at least 20,000 locals downstream, and forcing the Germans to cross further south at Nikopol. For the next six-and-a-half weeks, the old Mennonite settlement area of Chortitza was continuously shelled by Soviet troops from Zaporozhje on the east side of the river ( note 1 ). The majority of Russian Germans in Crimea and Ukraine paid dearly for Germany’s Blitzkrieg and plans for racially-based population resettlements. As early as August 3, 1941, the Supreme Command of the Soviet Forces received noti...

1929 Flight of Mennonites to Moscow and Reception in Germany

At the core of the attached video are some thirty photos of Mennonite refugees arriving from Moscow in 1929 which are new archival finds. While some 13,000 had gathered in outskirts of Moscow, with many more attempting the same journey, the Soviet Union only released 3,885 Mennonite "German farmers," together with 1,260 Lutherans, 468 Catholics, 51 Baptists, and 7 Adventists. Some of new photographs are from the first group of 323 refugees who left Moscow on October 29, arriving in Kiel on November 3, 1929. A second group of photos are from the so-called “Swinemünde group,” which left Moscow only a day later. This group however could not be accommodated in the first transport and departed from a different station on October 31. They were however held up in Leningrad for one month as intense diplomatic negotiations between the Soviet Union, Germany and also Canada took place. This second group arrived at the Prussian sea port of Swinemünde on December 2. In the next ten ...

Fraktur (or Gothic) font and Kurrent- (or Sütterlin) handwriting: Nazi ban, 1941

In the middle of the war on January 1, 1942, the Winnipeg-based Mennonitische Rundschau published a new issue without the familiar Fraktur script masthead ( note 1 ). One might speculate on the reasons, but a year earlier Hitler banned the use of the font in the Reich . The Rundschau did not exactly follow all orders from Berlin—the rest of the paper was in Fraktur (sometimes referred to as "Gothic"); when the war ended in 1945, the Rundschau reintroduced the Fraktur font for its masthead. It wasn’t until the 1960s that an issue might have a page or title here or there with the “normal” or Latin font, even though post-war Germany was no longer using Fraktur . By 1973 only the Rundschau masthead is left in Fraktur , and that is only removed in December 1992. Attached is a copy of Nazi Party Secretary Martin Bormann's official letter dated January 3, 1941, which prohibited the use of Fraktur fonts "by order of the Führer. " Why? It was a Jewish invention, apparent...

A Mennonite Pandemic Spirituality, 1830-1831

Asiatic Cholera broke out across Russia in 1829 and ‘30, and further into Europe in 1831. It began with an infected battalion in Orenburg ( note 1 ), and by early Fall 1830 the disease had reached Moscow and the capital. Russia imposed drastic quarantine measures. Much like today, infected regions were cut off and domestic trade was restricted. The disease reached the Molotschna River district in Fall 1830, and by mid-December hundreds of Nogai deaths were recorded in the villages adjacent to the Mennonite colony, leading state authorities to impose a strict quarantine. When the Mennonite Johann Cornies—a state-appointed agricultural supervisor and civic leader—first became aware of the nearby cholera-related deaths, he recommended to the Mennonite District Office on December 6, 1830 to stop traffic and prevent random contacts with Nogai. For Cornies it was important that the Mennonite community do all it can keep from carrying the disease into the community, though “only God knows...

1920s: Those who left and those who stayed behind

The picture below is my grandmother's family in 1928. Some could leave but most stayed behind. In 1928 a small group of some 511 Soviet Mennonites were unexpectedly approved for emigration ( note 1 ). None of the circa 21,000 Mennonites who emigrated from Russia in the 1920s “simply” left. And for everyone who left, at least three more hoped to leave but couldn’t. It is a complex story. Canada only wanted a certain type—young healthy farmers—and not all were transparent about their skills and intentions The Soviet Union wanted to rid itself of a specifically-defined “excess,” and Mennonite leadership knew how to leverage that Estate owners, and Selbstschutz /White Army militia were the first to be helped to leave, because they were deemed as most threatened community members; What role did money play? Thousands paid cash for their tickets; Who made the final decision on group lists, and for which regions? This was not transparent. Exit visa applications were also regularly reje...

Volendam and the Arrival in South America, 1947

The Volendam arrived at the port in Buenos Aires, Argentina on February 22, 1947, at 5 PM, exactly three weeks after leaving from Bremerhaven. They would be followed by three more refugee ships in 1948. The harassing experiences of refugee life were now truly far behind them. Curiously a few months later the American Embassy in Moscow received a formal note of protest claiming that Mennonites, who were Soviet citizens, had been cleared by the American military in Germany for emigration to Paraguay even though the Soviet occupation forces “did not (repeat not) give any sanction whatever for the dispatch of Soviet citizens to Paraguay” ( note 1 ). But the refugees knew that they were beyond even Stalin’s reach and, despite many misgivings about the Chaco, believed they were the hands of good people and a sovereign God. In Buenos Aires the Volendam was anticipated by North American Mennonite Central Committee workers responsible for the next leg of the resettlement journey. Elisabeth ...

Penmanship: School Exercise Samples, 1869 and 1883

Johann Cornies recommended “penmanship as the pedagogical means for [developing] a sense of beauty” ( note 1 ). Schönschreiben --calligraphy or penmanship--appears in the handwritten school plans and manuals of Tobias Voth (Ohrloff, 1820), Jakob Bräul (Rudnerweide, 1830), and Heinrich Heese (Ohrloff, 1842). Heese had a list of related supplies required for each pupil, including “a Bible, slate, slate pencil, paper, straight edge, lead pencil, quill pen, quill knife, ink bottle, three candlesticks, three snuffers, and a container to keep supplies; the teacher will provide water color ( Tusche ) and ink” ( note 2 ). The standard school schedule at this time included ten subject areas: Bible; reading; writing; recitation and composition; arithmetic; geography; singing; recitation and memory work; and preparation of the scripture for the following Sunday worship—and penmanship ( note 3 ). Below are penmanship samples first from the Molotschna village school of Tiege, 1869. This student...

What were Molotschna Mennonites reading in the early 1840s?

Johann Cornies expanded his Agricultural Society School library in Ohrloff to become a lending library “for the instruction and better enlightenment of every adult resident.” The library was overseen by the Agricultural Society; in 1845, patrons across the colony paid 1 ruble annually to access its growing collection of 355 volumes (see note 1 ). The great majority of the volumes were in German, but the library included Russian and some French volumes, with a large selection of handbooks and periodicals on agronomy and agriculture—even a medical handbook ( note 2 ). Philosophical texts included a German translation of George Combe’s The Constitution of Man ( note 3 ) and its controversial theory of phrenology, and the political economist Johann H. G. Justi’s Ergetzungen der vernünftigen Seele —which give example of the high level of reading and reflection amongst some colonists. The library’s teaching and reference resources included a history of science and technology with an accomp...

Mennonites in Danzig's Suburbs: Maps and Illustrations

Mennonites first settled in the Danzig suburb of Schottland (lit: "Scotland"; “Stare-Szkoty”; also “Alt-Schottland”) in the mid-1500s. “Danzig” is the oldest and most important Mennonite congregation in Prussia. Menno Simons visited Schottland and Dirk Phillips was its first elder and lived here for a time. Two centuries later the number of families from the suburbs of Danzig that immigrated to Russia was not large: Stolzenberg 5, Schidlitz 3, Alt-Schottland 2, Ohra 1, Langfuhr 1, Emaus 1, Nobel 1, and Krampetz 2 ( map 1 ). However most Russian Mennonites had at least some connection to the Danzig church—whether Frisian or Flemish—if not in the 1700s, then in 1600s. Map 2  is from 1615; a larger number of Mennonites had been in Schottland at this point for more than four decades. Its buildings are not rural but look very Dutch urban/suburban in style. These were weavers, merchants and craftsmen, and since the 17th century they lived side-by-side with a larger number of Jews a...

Mennonite-Designed Mosque on the Molotschna

The “Peter J. Braun Archive" is a mammoth 78 reel microfilm collection of Russian Mennonite materials from 1803 to 1920 -- and largely still untapped by researchers ( note 1 ). In the files of Philipp Wiebe, son-in-law and heir to Johann Cornies, is a blueprint for a mosque ( pic ) as well as another file entitled “Akkerman Mosque Construction Accounts, 1850-1859” ( note 2 ). The Molotschna Mennonites were settlers on traditional Nogai lands; their Nogai neighbours were a nomadic, Muslim Tartar group. In 1825, Cornies wrote a significant anthropological report on the Nogai at the request of the Guardianship Committee, based largely on his engagements with these neighbours on Molotschna’s southern border ( note 3 ). Building upon these experiences and relationships, in 1835 Cornies founded the Nogai agricultural colony “Akkerman” outside the southern border of the Molotschna Colony. Akkerman was a projection of Cornies’ ideal Mennonite village outlined in exacting detail, with un...