The Emperor and the Peasant
by
Joshua Snyder
by Joshua Snyder
DIGG THIS
For my fellow
Catholics on what Bill
Kauffman called the "peace-and-love left wing of paleoconservatism,"
no two beatifications have done more for our faith in recent years
than those of Blessed
Charles of Austria and Blessed
Franz Jägerstätter.
At first glance
the two Austrian holy men couldn't seem to be more different. His
Imperial and Royal Apostolic Majesty, descendant of Holy Roman emperors,
died in poverty and exile on the island of Madeira, Portugal on
April 1, 1921. His compatriot was a small farmer, the illegitimate
son of peasants, who was beheaded in Brandenburg, Germany on August
9, 1943. Indeed, the emperor and the peasant remind us that in The
Catholic Faith, in the words of the Apostle, "There is neither
Jew nor Greek: there is neither bond nor free: there is neither
male nor female" (Epistle
Of Saint Paul To The Galatians, III, 28).
Yet, however
different their backgrounds were, the two beatified Austrians speak
from Heaven
with the same thunderous voice for peace, if not near-pacifism,
in this day and age of war and rumors of war.
To the young
Karl Franz Josef Ludwig Hubert Georg Maria von Habsburg-Lothringen,
Pope Saint Pius X
bestowed this prophetic blessing: "I bless Archduke Charles, who
will be the future Emperor of Austria and will help lead his countries
and peoples to great honor and many blessings but this will
not become obvious until after his death."
Blessed Karl's
reign began at the end of 1916, when the Great
War was already nearing in its third bloody year. He immediately
entered into secret peace negotiations with France. He was the only
European leader to support the peace efforts of Pope
Benedict XV, who "maintained the Vatican as politically neutral
throughout the war, working with both sides for peace, and supporting
widows, orphans, the wounded, prisoners, and refugees."
Blessed Karl's
tireless peace efforts were ignored and he and his empire were crushed
by Woodrow
Wilson's crusade to make the world safe for democracy. Indeed,
the religious fanatic who then sat in the White House had a personal
and visceral hatred of the saintly emperor. In his recent article
An
Inconvenient Miracle, John Zmirak, reporting that "the Catholic
Church has recognized the final miracle required to make a saint
of one of Wilson’s greatest enemies," also reminded us of the following:
It’s rarely
remembered now, but Woodrow Wilson set as one of the primary war
aims of the U.S. as she entered (thanks to his careful maneuvering)
World War I the destruction of the Austro-Hungarian monarchy.
As a multi-ethnic state based not on 19th century nationalism
but ancient dynastic loyalty cemented by a majority Catholic faith,
it offended his modern notions of what should constitute a country—and
as a good Princeton academic, who was in addition convinced that
he personally embodied the Will of God, Wilson knew that he could
do better.
"Wilson’s name
continues its slow decline into disgrace," notes Mr. Zmirak, of
a man once sainted by American academia. Blessed Karl is soon to
be sainted by a much more ancient and venerable institution.
Blessed Karl
was sent into exile and poverty. He twice attempted to regain his
throne, but abandoned the effort to avoid civil war. He died of
severe pneumonia in the company of his beloved Empress Zita and
their eight children.
(Among the
children present on that sad day was Archduke
Otto von Habsburg, originator of this great political observation:
"I am often asked if I am a republican or a monarchist. I am neither,
I am a legitimist: I am for legitimate government. You could never
have a monarchy in Switzerland, and it would be asinine to imagine
Spain as a republic.")
Of the emperor-king,
English author Herbert
Vivian said, "Karl was a great leader, a prince of peace, who
wanted to save the world from a year of war; a statesman with ideas
to save his people from the complicated problems of his empire;
a king who loved his people, a fearless man, a noble soul, distinguished,
a saint from whose grave blessings come."
"Emperor Karl
is the only decent man to come out of the war in a leadership position,
yet he was a saint and no one listened to him," said Anatole
France. "He sincerely wanted peace, and therefore was despised
by the whole world. It was a wonderful chance that was lost."
The war Blessed
Karl tried so desperately to end claimed the life Blessed Franz's
father when the boy was ten years old. There were few signs of his
future greatness in his youth, which was spent like many young men
sowing his wild oats and busying himself with his beloved motorcycle.
After marriage and the birth of three daughters, he began to take
his religion seriously. A patriot, he was the only member of his
village to vote against the 1938 Anschluss,
the annexation of his native land by Nazi Germany. To the greeting
"Heil Hitler" he never responded with anything but "Pfui
Hitler."
Like his namesake
Saint Francis of Assisi,
Blessed Franz was ostracized by his fellow villagers. Both Francises
were Holy
Fools, in that they refused to do the "respectable" thing that
society demanded of them. Blessed Franz was drafted into the German
army but found he could not in good conscience serve a régime
he opposed with all his soul. He deserted. He was court-martialed
and sentenced to death.
Any speculation
that he was motivated by cowardice or contrarian peasant stubbornness
is dispelled when one reads his writings from prison. Awaiting the
guillotine, Blessed Franz wrote, "I definitely prefer to relinquish
my rights under the Third Reich and thus make sure of deserving
the rights granted under the kingdom of God." Here is another striking
passage:
Just as those
who believe in Nazism tell themselves that their struggle is for
survival, so must we, too, convince ourselves that our struggle
is for the eternal Kingdom. But with this difference: we need
no rifles or pistols for our battle but, instead, spiritual weapons…Let
us love our enemies, bless those who curse us, pray for those
who persecute us. For love will conquer and will endure for all
eternity. And happy are they who live and die in God's love.
On the morning
of his execution, he wrote to his beloved wife Franziska, who was
present sixty-four yeas later at her husband's beatification mass,
the following words: "The heart of Jesus, the heart of Mary and
my heart are one, united for time and eternity." After receiving
"Last Rites" (Extreme
Unction), Blessed Franz told the priest, "I cannot and may not
take an oath in favor of a government that is fighting an unjust
war." From this priest, Blessed Franz was happy to learn of another
Catholic priest who had recently been martyred by the Nazis (there
were 4000 of them by the war's end), and he had always been charitable
and maintained that his fellow Catholics, laity and churchmen alike,
who did not oppose Hitler simply "were not given the grace" that
he had received.
Like the saints
of early Christian history (Saint
Martin of Tours, a Roman officer who renounced the sword, comes
to mind), news of his sanctity spread by word of mouth and his cultus
grew. Twenty-one years after his death, Gordon Zahn's biography,
In
Solitary Witness, provided inspiration to those opposing the
unjust war against Vietnam.
"A week before
George W. Bush arrived in Rome for their first meeting," observed
Frank Purcell in A
Martyr for Peace, "Benedict XVI put his signature to a document
proclaiming Franz Jägerstätter a martyr of the Church
for refusing to serve in an unjust war, such as Benedict and John
Paul the Great insisted the Bush war against Iraq has been from
the beginning."
In declaring
him a martyr, the Church clarified her Just
War Doctrine. Catholic neocon war apologists hinged their support
for the War on Iraq on this single phrase: "The evaluation of these
conditions for moral legitimacy belongs to the prudential judgment
of those who have responsibility for the common good." Official
recognition of Blessed Franz's witness, and well as clear statements
by the popes, taught that that line was not a trump card. The other
criteria for a just war, which are very strict, take absolute precedence.
Blesseds Karl
and Franz were beatified by Pope
John Paul II and Pope
Benedict XVI respectively. These two pontiffs have raised the
strongest and clearest voices of opposition against Mr. Bush's Wars.
In Pope
John Paul II and the Iraq War, Austin Cline, an atheist, admitted
the following:
The most
public and serious condemnations of the invasion of Iraq came
from Pope John Paul II and other top officials at the Vatican.
Catholic leaders did as much as they could to dissuade Britain
and America from their bellicose course of action, but to no avail.
In September
of 2002, in the build up to the war, then-Cardinal Ratzinger stated,
"The concept of a 'preventive war' does not appear in the Catechism
of the Catholic Church." Then, in May of 2003, after the start
of the war, the future pope made this following remarkably clear
statement:
There were
not sufficient reasons to unleash a war against Iraq. To say nothing
of the fact that, given the new weapons that make possible destructions
that go beyond the combatant groups, today we should be asking
ourselves if it is still licit to admit the very existence of
a "just war."
This past Palm
Sunday, the Holy Father issued an "appeal to the Iraqi people,
who for the past five years have borne the consequences of a war
that provoked the breakup of their civil and social life."
(Roma locuta
est, causa finita est. Rome has spoken, the case is closed.)
And the Pope
may well be the last best chance for Iran to avoid annihilation,
as a Time Magazine article from last year, Iran's
Secret Weapon: The Pope, speculated: "According to several well-placed
Rome sources, Iranian officials are quietly laying the groundwork
necessary to turn to Pope Benedict XVI and top Vatican diplomats
for mediation if the showdown with the United States should escalate
toward a military intervention."
Holy
Mother Church is above and beyond politics, especially when
it comes to beatifications. Blessed Karl and Franz were made "heroes
of the faith" for their personal holiness, not for their political
positions. But the two are sometimes inseparable, as evidenced by
these words Blessed Franz wrote in prison: "It is always possible
to save one's own soul and perhaps some others as well by bearing
individual witness against evil."
And we can
see the Church's beatifications as being politically providential.
It is hard not to see in Blessed Karl's beatification and eventual
canonization the rejection of the Wilsonian
interventionism that still guides American foreign policy, carried
out in the name of "self-determination by ethnic groups," "the spread
of democracy," and "intervention to help create peace and/or spread
freedom." In Blessed Franz' beatification and by declaring him a
martyr, a "witness" who died for the Faith, the Church has affirmed
forever the primacy of conscience over State power.
Although
I'd love to see the Holy Father do what this petition asks, you
will not find my name among the undersigned Letter
urges Pope to protest Iraq war during US visit. Not only do
I find unseemly the politicking of an institution as august and
venerable as the One
Holy Catholic and Apostolic Roman Church, which is only perverted
by anything reeking of democracy, but I also find such petitioning
utterly unnecessary. The popes have already spoken. And Blesseds
Karl and Franz bore and continue to bear witness in life, death,
and in the afterlife.
Orate pro
nobis.
March
29, 2008
An American
Catholic son-in-law of Korea, Joshua Snyder [send
him mail] lives with his wife and two children in Pohang, where
he serves as an assistant visiting professor of English at a science
and technology university. He blogs at The
Western Confucian.
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© 2008 LewRockwell.com
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