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...

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...

Russia: A Refuge for all True Christians Living in the Last Days

If only it were so. It was not only a fringe group of Russian Mennonites who believed that they were living the Last Days. This view was widely shared--though rejected by the minority conservative Kleine Gemeinde. In 1820 upon the recommendation of Rudnerweide (Frisian) Elder Franz Görz, the progressive and influential Mennonite leader Johann Cornies asked the Mennonite Tobias Voth (b. 1791) of Graudenz, Prussia to come and lead his Agricultural Association’s private high school in Ohrloff, in the Russian Mennonite colony of Molotschna. Voth understood this as nothing less than a divine call upon his life ( note 1; pic 3 ). In Ohrloff Voth grew not only a secondary school, but also a community lending library, book clubs, as well as mission prayer meetings, and Bible study evenings. Voth was the son of a Mennonite minister and his wife was raised Lutheran ( note 2 ). For some years, Voth had been strongly influenced by the warm, Pietist devotional fiction writings of Johann Heinrich Ju...

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 ...

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...

School Reports, 1890s

Mennonite memoirs typically paint a golden picture of schools in the so-called “golden era” of Mennonite life in Russia. The official “Reports on Molotschna Schools: 1895/96 and 1897/98,” however, give us a more lackluster and realistic picture ( note 1 ). What do we learn from these reports? Many schools had minor infractions—the furniture did not correspond to requirements, there were insufficient book cabinets, or the desks and benches were too old and in need of repair. The Mennonite schoolhouses in Halbstadt and Rudnerweide—once recognized as leading and exceptional—together with schools in Friedensruh, Fürstenwerder, Franzthal, and Blumstein were deemed to be “in an unsatisfactory state.” In other cases a new roof and new steps were needed, or the rooms too were too small, too dark, too cramped, or with moist walls. More seriously in some villages—Waldheim, Schönsee, Fabrikerwiese, and even Gnadenfeld, well-known for its educational past—inspectors recorded that pupils “do not ...

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 ...

On Becoming the Quiet in the Land

They are fair questions: “What happened to the firebrands of the Reformation? How did the movement become so withdrawn--even "dour and unexciting,” according to one historian? Mennonites originally referred to themselves as the “quiet in the land” in contrast to the militant--definitely more exciting--militant revolutionaries of Münster ( note 1 ), and identification with Psalm 35:19f.: “Let not my enemies gloat over me … For they do not speak peace, but they devise deceitful schemes against those who live quietly in the land.” How did Mennonites become the “quiet in the land” in Royal Prussia? Minority non-citizen groups in Poland like Jews, Scots, Huguenots or the much smaller body of Mennonites did not enjoy full political or economic rights as citizens. Ecclesial and civil laws left linguistic or religious minorities vulnerable to extortion. Such groups sought to negotiate a Privilegium or charter with the king, which set out a legal basis for some protections of life an...

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...

What is the Church to Say? Letter 4 (of 4) to American Mennonite Friends

Irony is used in this post to provoke and invite critical thought; the historical research on the Mennonite experience is accurate and carefully considered. ~ANF Preparing for your next AGM: Mennonite Congregations and Deportations Many U.S. Mennonite pastors voted for Donald Trump, whose signature promise was an immediate start to “the largest deportation operation in American history.” Confirmed this week, President Trump will declare a national emergency and deploy military assets to carry this out. The timing is ideal; in January many Mennonite congregations have their Annual General Meeting (AGM) with opportunity to review and update the bylaws of their constitution. Need help? We have related examples from our tradition, which I offer as a template, together with a few red flags. First, your congregational by-laws.  It is unlikely you have undocumented immigrants in your congregation, but you should flag this. Model: Gustav Reimer, a deacon and notary public from the ...