If the answer on Jeopardy! was “He sparked the Protestant Reformation of the Roman Catholic Church in the sixteenth century when he nailed his Ninety-Five Theses to the door of a church in Wittenberg, Germany,” there is no doubt Alex Trebek would accept this as the correct question:
“Who was Martin Luther?”
And Martin Luther was that man, a figure I remember in heroic silhouette, if not great detail, from the course on the Reformation that I took in college in the sixties. I closed the book on Luther after that and did not open it again until 2010, when I began work on this book. While researching the roots of anti-Semitism in Germany, I ran across this same man and decided that there must be some mistake. Here are some of his words about Jews, written in 1543:
“They are thirsty bloodhounds and murderers of all Christendom with full intent, now for more than fourteen hundred years, and indeed they were often burned to death upon the accusation that they had poisoned water and wells, stolen children, and torn and hacked them apart in order to cool their temper secretly with Christian blood.”
It went on.
“They hold us Christians captive in our country. They let us work in the sweat of our noses, to earn money and property for them, while they sit behind the oven, lazy, let off gas, bake pears, eat, drink, live softly and well from our wealth. They have captured us and our goods through their accursed usury; mock us and spit on us, because we work and permit them to be lazy squires who own us and our realm.”
And on.
“It is more than fourteen hundred years since Jerusalem was destroyed, and at this time it is almost three hundred years since we Christians have been tortured and persecuted by Jews all over the world, so that we might well complain that they had now captured and killed us all, which is the open truth. We do not know to this day which devil has brought them here into our country; we did not look for them in Jerusalem.”
I was in disbelief to discover that the name on this collection of virulent, operatic anti-Semitism, About the Jews and Their Lies, was Martin Luther—the same Martin Luther of my hagiographic undergraduate memory. There was no mistake—Raul Hilberg did not make mistakes about this. Even in the pantheon of Holocaust scholars the late Hilberg has no peer. His masterwork, The Destruction of the European Jews, is to the Holocaust what On the Origin of Species is to evolution.
Hilberg put Luther in the first pages of his three-volume, 1,388-page opus as the Johnny Appleseed of German anti-Semitism, quoting widely from his vile 65,000-word treatise. Yet this “other” Martin Luther basically does not exist today. He can be found, but only if you know where to look by Googling “Martin Luther and anti-Semitism” or “Martin Luther and Hitler.” A clueless middle-school student in search of a quick reference is likely to encounter only the sanitized Martin Luther.
The American Heritage College Dictionary says simply “German theologian and leader of the Reformation.” The online Encyclopedia Brittanica offers a 19-line capsule summary of Luther’s life without a hint of his anti-Semitic obsession, and it’s barely mentioned in a long article below the summary. Wikipedia gives the issue similar treatment and states vaguely that Luther was “a controversial figure among many historians and religious scholars.” To nonhistorians, Luther is a bland one-dimensional figure in a funny hat.
History is replete with anti-Semites and their malignant vituperations. Why dwell on Luther? Because, as Hilberg shows, Luther’s anti-Semitism was not just a personality tic or the evanescent ranting of an old man that was interred with his bones. It became the philosophical foundation for the great edifice of Nazi anti-Semitism and near extermination of the Jews. “The Nazi destruction process did not come out of a void,” Hilberg wrote. “It was the culmination of a cyclical trend … The Nazis did not discard the past, they built upon it. They did not begin a development, they completed it.”1 And they were especially shrewd in manipulating the age-old anti-Semitism in places like Poland, Slovakia, and Ukraine.
Like most Americans, I had internalized the simplistic idea that the Holocaust did indeed “come out of a void” as a unique event, an aberration, an original cancer with shallow roots in Hitler’s hatred of the Jews, his lust for power, and a unique set of socioeconomic conditions in the 1930s which lowered the Germans’ resistance to the poisonous prescriptions of a mesmerizing megalomaniac. There was no place in that tidy view for the more disturbing idea that Hitler represented something endemic in German culture—that Nazism was a continuation of an ancient contagion.
Coming of age, the only Martin Luther on my radar screen was Martin Luther King, Jr., and I never thought about his name. Now that I know its provenance, the irony is mind-boggling. King carried the name of a man who espoused views inimical to all that he stood and died for. Like his father Martin Luther King, Sr., a Baptist minister, Martin Luther King, Jr. was born Michael King. When Michael was five, his father changed both their names in honor of the German priest he admired for his civil disobedience against Rome. The catalyst for that change elevates the story from ironic to macabre.
In 1934, Michael King joined ten other Baptist ministers on a trip to the Holy Land and Europe, including Berlin, for the Fifth Baptist World Alliance Congress. It was held at the Sportpalast, a favored venue for Hitler speeches, where the large hall was festooned with Nazi banners and Christian crosses for the Baptist event. By then, copies of About the Jews and Their Lies were being displayed in glass cases at the epic Nuremberg rallies glorified by filmmaker Leni Riefenstahl in Triumph of the Will, filmed the same year the Baptists gathered in Berlin.
It’s highly unlikely that Rev. King from Atlanta was aware of the rallies or knew of Luther’s repellent 400-year-old calumny. It was two years before Hitler would preside at the Summer Olympics in Berlin, four years before Kristallnacht shattered illusions about the Nazis once and for all. Moreover, Baptists at the Congress liked the fact that Hitler and his minions did not smoke or drink. Back home in Georgia, inspired by his visit to the homeland of Martin Luther, Michael King decided that from then on he and his son would carry the name of the great theologian. If only he had known then what most of us still don’t know today about Luther.
Hitler did. He praised Luther as one of the greatest reformers in history, and he was not referring to the priest’s crusade against indulgences in the Catholic Church. “He saw the Jew as we are only beginning to see him today,” Hitler said. Whether or not Kristallnacht—November 9–10, 1938—was actually dedicated to Luther’s birthday on November 10 as many suggest, it certainly fulfilled his marching orders to Christians four centuries earlier.
“Set fire to their synagogues or schools,” Luther had said. “Destroy their homes, confiscate all Jewish holy books, forbid rabbis to teach, force Jews to do physical labor, abolish their right to safe conduct on the highways, confiscate all Jewish money and gold so they cannot practice usury.” If necessary, Luther said, expel the Jews. “These anti-Semitic ravings were not peripheral jottings of Luther’s,” said Jewish writer Joseph Telushkin. “They became well-known throughout Germany.”
In 1895 a notorious anti-Semite, Hermann Ahlwardt, was debating a fellow Reichstag deputy who opposed his idea to expel all Jews from Germany. There are not enough Jews in Germany to cause trouble, the other deputy argued.
“Yes, gentlemen, Deputy Rickert would be right, if it were a matter of fighting with honest weapons against an honest enemy,” Ahlwardt retorted. “Then it would be a matter of course that the Germans would not fear a handful of such people. But the Jews, who operate like parasites, are a different kind of problem. Mr. Rickert, who is not as tall as I am, is afraid of a single cholera germ—and gentlemen, the Jews are cholera germs. It is the infectiousness and exploitive power of Jewry which is involved.”
Hilberg observes, “It is remarkable that two men, separated by a span of three hundred and fifty years, can still speak the same language. Ahlwardt’s picture of the Jews is in its basic features a replica of the Lutheran portrait. The Jew is still (1) an enemy who has accomplished what no external enemy has accomplished—he has driven the people of Frankfurt into the suburbs. (2) a criminal, a thug, a beast of prey who commits so many crimes that his elimination would enable the Reichstag to cut the criminal code in half. (3) a plague, or more precisely, a cholera germ. Under the Nazi regime these conceptions of the Jew were expounded and repeated in an almost endless flow of speeches, posters, letters, and memoranda.”2
Julius Streicher was editor of the Nazi newspaper Der Sturmer and among the most obstreperous and vehement anti-Semites in Hitler’s inner circle. It was a proud moment for Streicher when the city of Nuremberg presented him a first edition of On the Jews and Their Lies. In 1935, he addressed the Hitler Youth about Jews.
“This people has wandered about the world for centuries and millennia, marked with the sign of Cain. Boys and girls, even if they say that the Jews were once the chosen people, do not believe it. A chosen people does not go into the world to make others work for them, to suck blood. It does not go among the people to chase the peasants from the land. It does not go among the people to make your fathers poor and drive them to despair. A chosen people does not slay and torture animals to death. Boys and girls, for you we have always suffered. For you we had to accept mockery and insult, and became fighters against the Jewish people, against that organized body of world criminals against whom already Christ had fought, the greatest anti-Semite of all times.”
Streicher probably would have put Martin Luther at No. 2—though it would have been a tough call for him between Luther and the Führer. Testifying in his trial at Nuremberg, Streicher used Luther as a sort of celebrity witness in absentia to rationalize his actions. “Dr. Martin Luther would very probably sit in my place in the defendants’ dock today, if this book (On the Jews and Their Lies) had been taken into consideration by the prosecution.”
A prominent Anglican cleric and writer, Rev. William Ralph Inge, made the same argument from outside the dock in 1944. “If you wish to find a scapegoat on whose shoulders we may lay the miseries which Germany has brought upon the world, I am more and more convinced that the worst evil genius of that country is not Hitler or Bismarck or Frederick the Great, but Martin Luther.”3
It’s a terrible poetic injustice that our collective ignorance about the “other” Martin Luther allows him, like a vampire bathed in moonlight, to benefit fraudulently from the reflected glory of Martin Luther King, Jr., with whom he is not worthy to share his own name. Four-hundred sixty-nine years after On the Jews and Their Lies was published, sixty-six years after Auschwitz and Dachau and Sobibor were liberated, it’s past time for a new Jeopardy! answer:
“He was a sixteenth-century German theologian and reformer whose anti-Semitic writings were quoted by Hitler and other Nazis to justify the extermination of six million Jews in the Holocaust.”
Who was Martin Luther? At last we know.