'The Jews -- eternal insolent children, obstinate, dirty, thieves, liars,
ignoramuses, pests and the scourge of those near and far . . . managed
to lay their hands on . . . all public wealth . . . and virtually alone
they took control not only of all the money . . . but of the law itself
in those countries where they have been allowed to hold public offices
. . . [yet they complain] at the first shout by anyone who dares raise
his voice against this barbarian invasion by an enemy race, hostile to
Christianity and to society in general.'' Those words appeared in 1880
in Civilta Cattolica, the journal Pope Pius IX had ordered the Jesuits
to publish in Rome as the informal organ of the Vatican -- every article
was cleared before publication by the papal secretariat of state. The
words were written by a founding editor of the paper, Giuseppe Oreglia,
S.J., who was responsible for three dozen more articles in this vein during
the 1880's. The articles were typical of Civilta Cattolica, and Civilta
Cattolica was typical of Roman Catholic periodicals all over Europe in
the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
David Kertzer, a professor of history at Brown University, has undertaken
the sickening task of compiling a sampler of such material issuing from
church-sponsored newspapers. He earlier wrote ''The Kidnapping of Edgardo
Mortara,'' which told how Pius IX took a 6-year-old boy away from his
Jewish parents because the Inquisition had decided that the boy had been
secretly baptized by a Christian servant working in the Mortara household.
''The Popes Against the Jews'' is even more disheartening than ''The Kidnapping
of Edgardo Mortara,'' besides being a more formidable scholarly achievement,
since it traces, over a stretch of two centuries, the Vatican's endorsement
of things like the Protocols of the Elders of Zion, or the guilt of Alfred
Dreyfus or the charge that Jews regularly commit ritual murders of Christian
children. Pope John Paul II's document on the Holocaust, ''We Remember,''
said that the Catholic church in the past objected to Jews only on theological
grounds, not racial ones. Kertzer easily destroys this falsehood. To quote
again Oreglia's article, cleared by the Vatican secretariat of state:
''Oh how wrong and deluded are those who think Judaism is just a religion,
like Catholicism, Paganism, Protestantism, and not in fact a race, a people,
and a nation! . . . For the Jews are not only Jews because of their religion
. . . they are Jews also and especially because of their race.''
Kertzer has done a staggeringly thorough job of tracing Catholic statements
on the Jews, and in using the Vatican archives to show what support was
given to the people making these statements. From this he argues that
the debate over what Pius XII might have done during the Holocaust is
a distraction from a more important question -- what did the Catholic
church do to help bring on the Holocaust in the first place? It did a
great deal. The anti-Semitic campaign against Alfred Dreyfus, the French
military officer convicted of treason in 1894 on forged documents, was
largely driven by a fanatical band of Catholics denouncing Dreyfus for
his perfidious Jewishness. The Assumptionist Fathers made this a special
mission of their daily newspaper, La Croix. Owen Chadwick, the author
of the excellent ''History of the Popes: 1830-1914'' (1998), says of this
campaign that it ''was the most powerful and extreme journalism ever conducted
by an otherworldly religious order during the history of Christendom.''
Pope Leo XIII, though he criticized the paper for other reasons, never
objected to this rabid effort. He said in 1899, ''I love La Croix.'' And
no wonder. His own official newspaper, L'Osservatore Romano, had also
prejudged Dreyfus's guilt. Later, it defended anti-Semitic mobs resisting
a reversal of his rigged conviction: ''The Jewish race, the deicide people,
wandering throughout the world, brings with it everywhere the pestiferous
breath of treason.'' Kertzer brings the story down to the late 1930's,
when Pius XI's attempt at writing an encyclical condemning Nazi anti-Semitism
was sabotaged by the superior general of the Jesuits (a Polish aristocrat)
and the editor of Civilta Cattolica. For that matter Pius XI himself,
who served as a papal diplomat in Poland during World War I, dismissed
reports of pogroms there as inventions of Jewish propaganda. He wrote
to the Vatican secretary of state: ''One of the most evil and strongest
influences that is felt here, perhaps the strongest and the most evil,
is that of the Jews.''
None of the modern Piuses comes off well. Pius X favored a high official
in his secretariat of state, Monsignor Umberto Benigni, who became one
of the two principal distributors of the Protocols of the Elders of Zion
in Italy. Pius also refused to intervene in the 20th century's most famous
trial of a Jew on the ritual murder charge, a trial conducted in Kiev
in 1913. After a Catholic priest testified to the court that such murders
were an established fact of history, British Jews asked the Catholic Duke
of Norfolk to request from the pope a denial of the libel. Pius X's secretary
of state would not deny the myth, or send information about false uses
of it directly to the presiding judge. As Kertzer notes, ''by not taking
this step, the pope allowed the Catholic press, including that part of
it viewed inside and outside the church as communicating the pope's true
sentiments, to continue to tar the Jews with the ritual murder charge.''
This is the pope canonized by Pius XII in 1954.
Pius IX's record was far worse, even apart from his kidnapping of the
Mortara child. In 1867, he canonized Peter Arbues, a 15th-century inquisitor
famed for forcible conversion of Jews, and said in the canonization document,
''The divine wisdom has arranged that in these sad days, when Jews help
the enemies of the church with their books and money, this decree of sanctity
has been brought to fulfillment.'' (Kertzer somehow misses the story of
this St. Peter -- it can be read in Chadwick's ''History of the Popes.'')
Pius IX not only gave the Cross of Commander of the Papal Order to a man
famous for a book endorsing the myth of Jewish ritual murders, but established
the feast of a boy ''martyr'' who was supposedly the victim of such a
rite. In 1871, addressing a group of Catholic women, Pius said that Jews
''had been children in the House of God,'' but ''owing to their obstinacy
and their failure to believe, they have become dogs'' (emphasis in the
original.). ''We have today in Rome unfortunately too many of these dogs,
and we hear them barking in all the streets, and going around molesting
people everywhere.'' This is the pope beatified by John Paul II in 2000.
Kertzer lays out this revolting record with admirable calm, not giving
way to the indignation that most readers must feel. A Catholic will especially
wonder why John Paul II was so determined to beatify Pius IX. Determined
he certainly was. The board of experts established to examine Pius IX's
credentials did not include the man who knows most about him, Giacomo
Martina, S.J., the author of the definitive three-volume life of him.
Why was this? Probably because, when Kenneth Woodward of Newsweek asked
Martina if, after decades of studying the man, he thought Pius IX a saint,
Martina answered ''No, I do not.'' Owen Chadwick said that there was only
one pope who would have canonized Peter Arbues -- Pius IX. I am afraid,
in the same way, that there was only one pope who would have beatified
Pius IX -- John Paul II.
Garry Wills is the author of ''A Necessary Evil: A History of American
Distrust of Government'' and ''Papal Sin.''