Western European Churches and the Holocaust
by Gerald Darring
There was probably less antisemitism in Italy than in any of the other Western democracies, and things did not begin to deteriorate for Italian Jews until Italy collaborated with Germany in Spain in 1936. Mussolini copied the German anti-Jewish laws, but when the genocide began in earnest, he resisted German pressure for him to hand over Italian Jews. Most of Italy’s Jews lived in the northern half of the country, where they did not benefit from the Allied liberation until it was too late for many of them.
Before Germany took over military control of Italy in September 1943, Italian Jews were relatively safe. But from that date to the end of the war, they were subjected to hostile legal actions, forced labor, arrest, and deportation. The Italians, however, were never enthusiastic supporters of the “Final Solution,” and in spite of Eichmann’s best efforts, nearly four-fifths of the Jews of Italy survived the Holocaust.
Where was the Church is all of this? We have already seen what the bishop of Rome did—and did not do. The remainder of the Italian hierarchy presents something of a mixed bag.
Some prelates refused to do anything to help the Jews in their dioceses, including Cardinal Adeodato Piazza, the patriarch of Venice; the bishop of Modena, who insisted on the removal of dozens of orphaned Jewish children from their hiding place in a diocesan seminary; and the bishop of Mantua, a known Fascist sympathizer. Others actually tried to obstruct the rescue of Jews, and the parish priest of a little village in the Valle d’Aosta had to ignore his bishop’s disapproval in order to save two Jewish families. On the other hand, there were important bishops who worked hard to save Jewish lives. When they were approached by Jewish assistance organizations to help coordinate rescue efforts, Cardinals Pietro Boetto of Genoa, Ildefonso Schuster of Milan, Maurilio Fossati of Turin, and Elia Dalla Costa of Florence all agreed to help and instructed their subordinates to cooperate in the effort. In Florence, Cardinal Dalla Costa mobilized the entire structure of his archdiocese for Jewish rescue, and at least twenty-one monasteries and convents, as well as parish churches and their parishioners, were involved in rescuing Jews. Cardinal Boetto’s secretary, Don Francesco Repetto, received Yad Vashem’s Medal of the Righteous Among the Nations. Bishop Giuseppe Placido Nicolini of Assisi was a unique case because he established a program of Jewish rescue without being approached by the Jews for help. Bishop Antonio Santin of Trieste and Capodistria is credited by Zuccotti for having “demonstrated courage, initiative, and an undeniable sympathy for the Jews.” Santin delivered a strong speech in his basilica in the presence of Nazis and their Fascist collaborators, castigating them for the suffering they caused “that people from whose womb (Christ) came as a man and in whose midst he lived and died.”
Most historians would agree with the assessment of Yehuda Bauer that “after the summer of 1943, when the south of the country had fallen to the Allies and an Italian Fascist Republic was established in the north under the direct rule of the Nazis, the attitude of the population at large to the Jews was one of commiseration and, very often, of active help.” Yad Vashem has honored 281 Italians for their role in saving Jewish lives, including Don Arrigo Beccari, a teacher at the Catholic seminary in the village of Nonantola, who helped 120 Jews escape to Switzerland; Father Rufino Nicacci, who arranged for 200 Jews to be provided with false credentials, hidden in private homes, and smuggled out of the country; and Fathers Giovanni Simione and Angelo Della Torre, who cooperated in saving twelve Jewish women with their children.
In a March 1998 letter to the Jewish community of Italy, the Italian bishops spoke of a “lack of prophetic action” on the part of the church, and said that “We recall these events with dismay and also with a profound and conscientious teshuvah.”
The Swiss bishops also recognized in 1997 that “for centuries, Christians and ecclesiastical teachings were guilty of persecuting and marginalizing Jews,” and they “shamefully declare” that the perpetrators and collaborators in the Holocaust used religious motivations. “It is in reference to these past acts of churches for which we proclaim ourselves culpable and ask pardon of the descendants of the victims...”
The lightning capture of France by the Germans in 1940 resulted in the stunned country’s division into an occupied northern half governed by the German occupation forces, and an unoccupied southern half under a French government headed by World War I hero Marshal Philippe Pétain and seated in Vichy. Catholic authorities welcomed the Vichy government not just because it was a sign of a certain amount of French independence but also because it seemed to represent a repudiation of certain liberal values against which the church had long fought in France—divorce was abolished, for example. Moreover, religious education was provided in state schools, and some confiscated church property, such as the Grotto at Lourdes, was returned to the dioceses. As Cardinal Pierre-Marie Gerlier of Lyon said in an interview, “No one supports more zealously than I the policies of Marshal Pétain.” The church’s closeness to the Vichy regime helped prevent the church from responding as it should have when the Vichy government, under strong pressure from the Germans, began implementing anti-Jewish measures. Thus, when, in October 1940, French Jews were deprived of their rights and foreign Jews were deprived of their liberty, there was no response at all from the church. Again, in June 1941, when the Vichy government promulgated the second Jewish law, the church was silent, and the church’s silence continued after the occupation authorities required Jews living in the southern part of the country to wear the yellow star. This judgment of culpable silence on the part of church leaders has been accepted by the French church itself: in a 1997 “Declaration of Repentance,” the French bishops wrote that “too many of the Church’s pastors committed an offense, by their silence, against the Church itself and its mission. Today we confess that such a silence was a sin. In so doing, we recognize that the Church of France (shares) with the Christian people the responsibility for failing to lend their aid, from the very first moments, when protest and protection were still possible as well as necessary.”
In mid-July 1942, 13,300 Jewish men, women and children were arrested by the Paris police and huddled into camps. There was no reaction from the church, and when the bishops of the Northern Zone met a week later, they decided to send a letter of protest to Pétain but not to make a public protest. Things were different in the Southern Zone, however. There the frail, elderly Archbishop of Toulouse, Jules-Gérard Saliège, who had from the beginning maintained an attitude of mistrust toward the Vichy regime, issued a pastoral letter that was read from all the pulpits of his diocese during the second half of August, in spite of frantic efforts by the authorities to seize copies of the letter. Saliège’s letter left no doubt about the bishop’s strong stand in favor of the human dignity of Jews, and it created a sensation throughout southern France. One effect of the letter was to open the door for other bishops to issue similar declarations condemning the anti-Jewish measures, and soon Bishop Théas of Montauban, Bishop Delay of Marseilles, Cardinal Gerlier of Lyon, Bishop Vanstenberghe of Bayonne, and Archbishop Moussaron of Albi wrote messages to be read in their churches. It was not an avalanche of protest—after all, there were over 100 bishops in France at the time—but the cumulative effect of these letters was powerful. They informed the Catholic populace of the real danger to Jewish lives, and they emboldened many Catholics to take extraordinary risks in saving Jews. If some two-thirds of France’s Jews survived the Holocaust, it is in part because of the heroic efforts of many French Christians, Catholics and Protestants, in welcoming Jews into their homes and institutions.
It is not fair, however, to say that no Christians acted until their leaders had spoken out. Already in 1941, a group of Catholic and Protestant lay persons formed an organization named Amitié chrétienne, led by Abbé Glasberg and the Jesuit Pierre Chaillet. Under the patronage of Cardinal Gerlier, the head of the Catholic church in France, Amitié chrétienne set up shelter institutions that took in hundreds of Jewish prisoners who had been released from internment camps run by the French authorities. After the mass arrests and deportations of Jews in the summer of 1942, Amitié chrétienne turned its rescue efforts into clandestine operations.
There was also organized assistance given to Jewish organizations. Archbishop Saliège, for example, opened up all the institutions of his diocese to the underground activities of Oeuvre de Secours aux Enfants, a medico-socially oriented Jewish organization, making it possible for the underground network to create the first link in a chain of safety for many Jewish children. Of the 84,000 Jewish children in France, over 72,000 were saved from deportation, and there was a Christian role played in the saving of those lives.
Of course, the organized efforts could not have produced the results they did without the active participation of many Christian individuals, and Yad Vashem has awarded Righteous of the Nations medals to over two thousand French people. The number of French Christians who helped save Jewish lives was undoubtedly much higher than that. It included people such as André and Eliane Traband, a Catholic couple that took in a Jewish boy for two years and made sure that he recited the Shema Yisrael every night; Father Raymond Vancourt, who sheltered a Jewish woman who was on the Gestapo list, as well as a Jewish family, whose father was encouraged by Father Vancourt to don his phylacteries and celebrate the Sabbath and holy days; and Sister Anne-Marie Llobet, Mother Superior of the Sisters of Charity and interim director of the Mixte Hospital, where she hid Jews disguised as nurses and patients, even deaf or mentally deficient patients.
There was no single French Christian response to the Holocaust. On the one hand, Archbishop Saliège was enjoining upon his flock to aid the Jews, and on the other hand, Cardinal Suhard was voicing no objection at all to the anti-Jewish measures, and maintaining correct, even friendly relations with the Nazis. As Yehuda Bauer indicated, “One part of the French people was extending a helping hand to the Jews, while another was busy helping the Nazis to round them up and deport them to their deaths.” Or, as he put it in his history of the Holocaust, on the one hand “the Catholic clergy, by and large, and with a few honorable exceptions, echoed antisemitic sentiments,” and on the other hand, “many French Catholic prelates and all Protestant pastors actively opposed the Vichyite and Nazi Jewish policies, and his Jews or supported rescue actions.”
Arguably the most remarkable statement came from the French bishops, who wrote in September 1997: “...we must recognize that indifference won the day over indignation in the face of the persecution of the Jews and that, in particular, silence was the rule in face of the multifarious laws enacted by the Vichy government, whereas speaking out in favor of the victims was the exception.... The end result is that the attempt to exterminate the Jewish people, instead of being perceived as a central question in human and spiritual terms, remained a secondary consideration. In the face of so great and utter a tragedy, too many of the Church’s pastors committed an offense, by their silence, against the Church itself and its mission. Today we confess that such a silence was a sin.... We confess this sin. We beg God’s pardon, and we call upon the Jewish people to hear our words of repentance.”
The Dutch Jewish community numbered about 140,000 and had been in the Netherlands for about three hundred years. It was a poor and middle-class tiny minority, and was well integrated into a society that exhibited very little antisemitism. It was also a fragmented community, hardly in a position to deal with the Nazi onslaught following the conquest of the Netherlands in May 1940. The various segments of Dutch society, including the thirty percent of the population that was Catholic, sought accommodation with the Germans.
When the Nazi Reichkommissar ordered the registration of all people who had at least one Jewish grandparent, the Archbishop of Utrecht, Johannes de Jong, did not protest this antisemitic action even though he gave some thought to doing so and even though the Protestant Reformed church had protested. Pieter de Jong reports that when all government officials were required to sign a statement declaring that they belonged to the Aryan race, a Dutch Reformed official, Jan Koopmans, wrote and privately distributed a protesting brochure, and asked the Catholic archbishop to speak out, “difficult as this might be in view of the fact that the Pope had blessed Italian Arms and the attitude of some German bishops.” There was no protest from the Catholic hierarchy. Indeed, Ger van Roon asserts that protests against anti-Jewish measures came earlier from Protestants than from Catholics, and they came more from pastors, priests and laity than from bishops and church leaders.
Deportations of Jews from Holland began in July 1942, and they continued for over a year, until there were very few Jews left in the country. There was no general Dutch resistance during this time, so that by the time resistance to the Germans took shape in late 1943, the Dutch Jewish community had already been destroyed. Archbishop de Jong protested personally to the Reichkommissar about the deportations, and when that didn’t work, he ordered a pastoral letter read on February 22, 1943 in all Catholic churches in which prayers were offered for “the people of Israel” and the sufferings they were enduring, and Catholics were told that cooperation with the deportation of Jews was morally unacceptable. The Nazis used this letter as a pretext for the premature arrest of Catholics who had converted from Judaism together with some monks and their deportation to Auschwitz.
About 24,000 Jews hid with Dutch people, and 16,000 of them survived. This indicates that there was substantial opposition to the Nazi anti-Jewish program, and Bauer concludes that “the Dutch population, especially the intellectual, political, and religious leadership, by and large opposed the Nazi policies, including those against the Jews, with determination.” A reflection of this determination is the fact that tiny Netherlands has the second largest number of Righteous Gentiles recognized by Israel’s Yad Vashem: 4,376 as of this writing.
Over the years a somewhat positive picture has developed of the Netherlands during the Nazi period. Already in 1964 Guenter Lewy wrote that the Dutch bishops in 1942 protested immediately and publicly against the first deportations of Dutch Jews, and in May 1943 they told Catholic policemen not to take part in the hunting down of Jews. Suzanne Rutland, speaking at a conference in 2000, indicated that this positive picture of the Dutch church has begun to be questioned in recent scholarship.
There were vacillations on the part of the Catholic leadership in Holland; there were Dutch Catholics who did nothing to help Jews or who actually harmed Jews by revealing their hiding places; nevertheless, the story of the Dutch Church during the Holocaust is not devoid of its bright moments, and we can rightly be proud of some of its members and actions.
In a 1995 statement, the Dutch bishops recognized the role played in the Holocaust by “a tradition of theological and ecclesiastical anti‑Judaism” and “the ‘catechesis of vilification’ [which] taught that Jewry after Christ’s death was rejected as a people,” and they “reject this tradition of ecclesiastical anti‑Judaism and deeply regret its horrible results.”
The Germans occupied Belgium in May 1940 and imposed a military rule that lasted until 1944. The deportations of Jews took place in 1942 and 1943, and yet about half of Belgium’s Jews survived the Holocaust. Factors in their survival included the organization of effective Jewish resistance; anti-German sentiment causing the Belgian populace to cooperate in saving Jews; the efforts of many Christians, communists, socialists, and the Belgian royal family.
The church’s role in the Holocaust of Belgian Jews can best be characterized by the phrase “on the other hand.”
—Cardinal Van Roey, Archbishop of Malines and primate of Belgium, chose not to make any public protests against the anti-Jewish measures, apparently deciding that more could be accomplished by working with the occupation leadership. On the other hand, he condemned Nazi racial theories, he ordered his flock not to collaborate with the occupiers, and he worked behind the scenes to help Jews, and he seems to have done enough concretely so that no less a Jewish scholar than Yehuda Bauer has credited him for aiding Belgian Jews.
—Bishop Joseph Kerkhofs of Liège actively supported the illegal rescue organizations that brought Jewish children to Catholic institutions and holiday camps. On the other hand one must wonder about his motives, since before the war he had been the main inspiration for a Catholic organization dedicated to the conversion of Israel, and shortly after the war, in June 1945, he asked his clergy to pray for the reprieve and conversion of Israel.
—Many Catholics were involved in the rescue of Jews. On the other hand, most were not, and even those who rescued Jews often did so for patriotic rather than religious motives.
In speaking of the Belgian church’s reaction to the Holocaust, one inevitably must confront the issue of Cardinal Van Roey’s public silence. Mark Van Den Wijngaert tries to put it in a favorable light:
Until 1943 the Cardinal refrained from making any hostile declarations against the Germans in public. He preferred to resolve disputes with the occupier about the rights of the Church and the dignity of human beings either by correspondence or through go-betweens. This manner of negotiating had the advantage of not giving the Germans a pretext to take any general action against priests or the faithful, and it could even permit the occupation authorities to make some concessions without losing face.
Maxime Steinberg is not so sure: “In this Catholic country where the word of the Church counted and where it never failed to make itself heard, the hierarchy did nothing to express popular feeling about the Jewish question.”
One must also address the somewhat extensive help given Jews by Catholics and other Christians. Some of this help was organized, as in the case of Catholic Labor Youth activities benefiting Jews in hiding. The Catholic journalist Emile Hambresin and the priest Abbé Bolland played important roles in the activities of the Committee for the Defense of the Jews, as did the Catholic militant, Brigitte Moens, who provided the Committee with contacts in various Catholic institutions where Jewish youngsters could be sheltered under false papers. As admirable as all this help was, it is simply not true to state that “the Church saved 70% of Belgium Jews.”
Yad Vashem has recognized 1,247 Belgians as Righteous Among the Nations, including Catholics such as Father Joseph André, who saved hundreds of Jews, mostly children; Georges and Marthe De Smet, who attended mass every morning but went to great lengths to provide kosher meat for the two Jewish children taken into their home, and Frans and Margueritte Lemmens, who hid three Jewish children for the last two years of the war and then kept them for another year after the war until arrangements could be made for them to be sent to Palestine.
There is no other Holocaust story similar to that of the rescue of Danish Jews. Most of the country’s 8,000 Jews were saved by being ferried in boats to neutral Sweden, their rescue resulting from a combination of factors including the unique circumstances of Denmark’s occupation, Danish contempt for the Nazis and the desire to foil Nazis plans, the effectiveness of Danish resistance movements, and the cooperation of Lutheran lay people and church leaders. It is true that the rescue effort was able to succeed because the Danes were tipped off by a German official and because there was an easy escape route to Sweden; nevertheless, the rescue was a remarkable event carried out by an entire nation, and for that reason Yad Vashem took the unusual step of awarding the title of Righteous Among the Nations to the entire Danish population.
Leon Stein’s assessment of the Danish Lutheran Church is extremely positive: “In Denmark the overwhelming majority of Lutheran laymen and pastors and the official institutional church opposed the Nazi persecution of the Jews and, when Denmark was occupied by the Nazis, joined the Danish resistance and rallied to help save the Jews of that country.” To my knowledge, no one has said that about the Catholic Church in any country.
In a paper read at the “Remembering for the Future” Conference in Oxford in July 1988, Antony Kushner summarized the Christian response in Britain to the Holocaust in this way:
...although the atrocities committed by the Nazis created some sympathy towards European Jewry, the past legacy of antisemitism and ambivalence with regard to the Jews limited Christian comprehension of the full enormity of the Jewish plight. Individuals such as James Parkes, who wanted to adopt a different Christian approach to the Jews, were isolated, even within the Council of Christians and Jews, itself formed in 1942. As a result little was done in Britain to pressurize the government into pursuing a more vigorous rescue policy during the war.
The information arriving in Great Britain regarding Nazi atrocities was extensive and rather accurate. Many Britons refused to believe this information, in part because of an ingrained antisemitism. The Catholic community was especially prone to be disbelieving, and in the fall of 1942 the Catholic Herald warned its readers “to avoid swallowing wholesale the current reports of the anti-Jewish persecution,” and asserted that “for the exact truth we must wait until the war is over.” The Catholic Times suggested that it was “no secret that the recent wave of propaganda about German atrocities against the Jews was Russian inspired. At the same time, however, The Tablet, a leading Catholic journal, reported that “nothing like the horrors now going on in Eastern Europe has been seen before.” (Kushner, pp. 178-179.)
Many British Christians were unmoved by what was happening to the Jews in Europe, believing that the Jews themselves were responsible for antisemitism. The editor of the Catholic Times wrote that it was Jewish pride in being the Chosen People “that brought persecution on the Jews” (Kushner, 185). Most of the British world was hostile to the Jews, with a few outstanding exceptions such as Bishop Matthew and the Archbishop of Canterbury, Cardinal Hinsley. The latter, speaking in his last public address, to the 1943 World Jewish Congress, denounced “with utmost vigor the persecution of the Jews by the Nazi oppressors,” and he called for retribution against the Nazis.
The Catholic minority in Britain may have been the most hostile to the Jews, but the response of other Christians was not much better. It was an ambivalent response, supporting neither the destruction of the Jews nor a mass influx of Jewish refugees into Britain; sympathetic to the plight of Jewish victims but antagonistic to the Jewish religion; opposed to Nazi antisemitism but ill disposed to Jews at home. It was, as Kushner concludes, “a response that was inadequate to the crisis of European Jewry” (p. 186).
 Susan Zuccotti, Under His Very Windows: The Vatican and the Holocaust in Italy, p. 279.
 For two different perspectives on Pius XII and Italian Jews, see Michael Phayer, “Italy” and “Pius XII and the Jews of Rome,” The Catholic Church and the Holocaust, 1930-1965, Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 2000, pp. 94-104, and “Let’s Look at the Record,” [a chronology of Eugenio Pacelli’s efforts against the Nazis and their regime, prepared by the staff], Inside the Vatican (October 1999) ix-xiii.
 Yehuda Bauer, “Christian Behavior During the Holocaust,” Jewish Spectator 43:3 (1978) 17.
 Mordecai Paldiel, The Path of the Righteous, pp. 356-359.
 Richard H. Weisberg, “Differing Ways of Reading, Differing Views of the Law: The Catholic Church and its Treatment of the Jewish Question during Vichy,” in John K. Roth and Elisabeth Maxwell, eds., Remembering for the Future: The Holocaust in an Age of Genocide, 3 vols., Houndmills, UK and New York: Palgrave, 2001, vol. 2, pp. 520.
 Sabine Zeitoun, “Role of the Christian Community in Saving Jewish Children in France during the Second World War,” Remembering for the Future: Working Papers and Addenda, 3 vols., Yehuda Bauer, ed., Oxford, England: Pergamon Press, 1989, vol. 3, pp. 2785-2805.
 Mordecai Paldiel, The Path of the Righteous, pp. 9-64. Eva Fleischner, “Can the Few Become the Many? Some Catholics in France Who Saved Jews during the Holocaust,” in Remembering for the Future: Working Papers and Addenda, Yehuda Bauer, ed., Oxford, England: Pergamon Press, vol. 1, 1989, pp. 233-247.
 Yehuda Bauer, “Christian Behavior During the Holocaust,” Jewish Spectator 43:3 (1978) 19
 Yehuda Bauer, A History of the Holocaust, Danbury, CT: Franklin Watts, pp. 313 and 305. For more information of the French churches and the Third Reich, see Renee Bedarida, “The Catholic Hierarchy in France during the War and the Persecution of the Jews,” The Holocaust and the Christian World: Reflections on the Past, Challenges for the Future, Carol Rittner, Stephen D. Smith and Irena Steinfeldt, eds., London: Kuperard for the Beth Shalom Holocaust Memorial Centre and the Yad Vashem International School for Holocaust Studies, 2000, pp. 83-86; Danielle Delmaire, “The Fate of the Jewish Communities in the North of France During World War II,” in Dan Michman, ed., Belgium and the Holocaust: Jews, Belgians, Germans, Jerusalem: Yad Vashem, 1998, pp. 327-342; Michael R. Marrus, “French Churches and the Persecution of Jews in France, 1940-1944,” Judaism and Christianity Under the Impact of National Socialism, 1919-1945, Otto Dov Kulka and Paul R. Mendes-Flohr, eds., Jerusalem: Historical Society of Israel and the Zalman Shazar Center for Jewish History, 1987, reprinted in The Nazi Holocaust: Historical Articles on the Destruction of European Jews, 8: Bystanders to the Holocaust, vol. 3, Michael R. Marrus, ed., Westport and London: Meckler, 1990, pp. 1284-1305; Michael R. Marrus, “French Protestant Churches and the Persecution of the Jews in France,” The Holocaust and the Christian World: Reflections on the Past, Challenges for the Future, Carol Rittner, Stephen D. Smith and Irena Steinfeldt, eds., London: Kuperard for the Beth Shalom Holocaust Memorial Centre and the Yad Vashem International School for Holocaust Studies, 2000, pp. 88-91; Robert 0. Paxton, “France: The Church, the Republic, and the Fascist Temptation, 1922-1945,” Catholics, the State, and the European Radical Right, 1919-1945, Richard J. Wolff and Jorg K. Hoensch, eds., Boulder, CO: Social Science Monographs, 1987, pp. 67-91.
 These and other documents can be found at the website of the Center for Christian-Jewish Learning at Boston College, http://www.bc.edu/research/cjl/cjrelations/resources/documents/catholic/
 Pieter de Jong, “Response of the Churches in the Netherlands to the Nazi Occupation,” in Michael D. Ryan, ed., Human Responses in the Holocaust: Perpetrators and Victims, Bystanders and Resisters, New York: Edwin Mellen Press, 1981, pp. 124.
 Ger van Roon, “The Dutch Protestants, the Third Reich and the Persecution of the Jews,” in Carol Rittner, Stephen D. Smith and Irena Steinfeldt, eds., The Holocaust and the Christian World: Reflections on the Past, Challenges for the Future, London: Kuperard for the Beth Shalom Holocaust Memorial Centre and the Yad Vashem International School for Holocaust Studies, 2000, pp. 93-96.
 Yehuda Bauer, “Christian Behavior During the Holocaust,” p. 18.
 Guenter Lewy, The Catholic Church and Nazi Germany, p. 293.
 Suzanne D. Rutland, “A Reassessment of the Dutch Record during the Holocaust,” in John K. Roth and Elisabeth Maxwell, eds., Remembering for the Future: The Holocaust in an Age of Genocide, 3 vols., Houndmills, UK and New York: Palgrave, 2001, vol. 1, pp. 527-542
 For more information on the Catholic and Protestant churches in the Netherlands, see Michael Phayer, “France and the Low Countries,” The Catholic Church and the Holocaust, 1930-1965, Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 2000, pp. 91-94, and Ger van Roon, “The Netherlands Protestant Churches and the Holocaust,” The Netherlands and Nazi Genocide: Papers of the 21st Annual Scholars’ Conference, G. Jan Colijn and Marcia Sachs Littell, eds., Lewiston: Edwin Mellen, 1992, pp. 15-30.
 Yehuda Bauer, “Christian Behavior During the Holocaust,” p. 18.
 Mark Van Den Wijngaert, “The Belgian Catholics and the Jews During the German Occupation, 1940-1944,” in Dan Michman, ed., Belgium and the Holocaust: Jews, Belgians, Germans, Jerusalem: Yad Vashem, 1998, p. 227.
 Maxime Steinberg, “Faced with the Final Solution in Occupied Belgium: The Church’s Silence and Christian Action,” in Yehuda Bauer, Remembering for the Future: Working Papers and Addenda, Oxford, England: Pergamon Press, vol. 3, 1989, p. 2746.
 Stephen Boyle, “Pius XII and the Jews: Greatness Dishonored,” Homiletic and Pastoral Review (April 1999) 29.
 Mordecai Paldiel, The Path of the Righteous, pp. 65-91. For more on the Belgian churches, see Lieven Saerens, “The Attitude of the Belgian Roman Catholic Clergy Toward the Jews Prior to the Occupation,” and Luc Dequeker, “Baptism and Conversion of Jews in Belgium, 1939-1945,” Belgium and the Holocaust: Jews, Belgians, Germans, Dan Michman, ed., Jerusalem: Yad Vashem, 1998, pp. 117-157 and 235-272.
 Mordecai Paldiel, The Path of the Righteous, pp. 369-370.
 Leon Stein, “A Parting at the Cross: The Contrasting National Cultures of Lutheranism in Germany and Denmark during the Holocaust,” Remembering for the Future: The Holocaust in an Age of Genocide, 3 vols., John K. Roth and Elisabeth Maxwell, eds., Houndmills, UK and New York: Palgrave, 2001; vol. 2, p. 618. For a Catholic perspective, see Carol Rittner, “Denmark and the Holocaust,” The Holocaust and the Christian World: Reflections on the Past, Challenges for the Future, Carol Rittner, Stephen D. Smith and Irena Steinfeldt, eds., London: Kuperard for the Beth Shalom Holocaust Memorial Centre and the Yad Vashem International School for Holocaust Studies, 2000, pp. 97-100.
 Antony Kushner, “Ambivalence or Antisemitism: Christian Attitudes and Responses in Britain to the Crisis of European Jewry during the Second World War,” Holocaust and Genocide Studies 5:2 (1990) 175.
 Susan Zuccotti, Under His Very Windows: The Vatican and the Holocaust in Italy, p. 279.