ON 9 APRIL 1945, the Lutheran pastor and theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer was executed in Flossenburg. He is remembered by the Church of England on that day as a martyr, and that status is confirmed by his inclusion among statues of modern martyrs erected on the west front of Westminster Abbey in 1998.
Yet there is a battle afoot. The contemporary memory of Bonhoeffer, both as a remarkable theologian and as a Christian leader who lost his life opposing the Nazis, is now — perhaps surprisingly, to many — contested. The focus on his decision to align himself with violence against the Nazi state has brought him admiration among so-called Christian nationalists, particularly in the United States.
Last month, the film Bonhoeffer: Pastor, spy, assassin, with a largely German cast, was released in selected cinemas in the UK and Ireland (Arts, 13 December 2024). It had been released previously in the US and Canada. Reviewers on both sides of the Atlantic have been wary of its hyping of the part that Bonhoeffer played in attempts to assassinate Hitler. The Christian Century, for example, went for “The New Bonhoeffer Movie isn’t just bad. It’s dangerous” (21 November 2024).
For the past 15 years, interest in Bonhoeffer has been building across sections of the Christian Right in the US. This seems to be due largely to the influence of Eric Metaxas, whose bestselling 2010 biography of Bonhoeffer made it possible for those opposed to “Liberalism” or “the State” to reinterpret him as a hero for their cause. Metaxas endorsed President Trump, is a regular on Fox News, has compared Joe Biden to Adolf Hitler, and has posted images of a gun on a Bible. Further, he has sought to associate Bonhoeffer with modern-day right-wing political violence, including the assault on the Capitol on 6 January 2021.
THESE attempts to co-opt his memory have not gone unchallenged by those who are confident that such moral certainty and advocacy of violence would have disgusted Bonhoeffer. The International Bonhoeffer Society has pointed out that he spoke out against nationalism as early as 1930, in a sermon — ironically, with hindsight — while in the US. Christians, he said, should never forget that they had brothers and sisters not only in their own people, but in every people.
Members of the Bonhoeffer film’s cast have likewise dissociated themselves from the distortion of his legacy. On the day before the 2024 US election, they spoke out: “We did this movie because Bonhoeffer reminds us to speak up against any authoritarian, violent attempt to damage democracy and human rights.” Their statement set out the Beatitudes (Matthew 5.3-10) in full, pointing out that this was one of Bonhoeffer’s most cherished passages.
Nearly 100 direct descendants of Bonhoeffer’s siblings (he himself had no children) have also pushed back against the twisting of their forebear’s memory. In recent months, in an open letter, they have asserted that he would have “condemned” violent extremism, and should be remembered as a lover of peace and freedom. As a distant relative myself, I recognise this description from the memories received within the family.
SO, IS there any credible basis for the distortion of Bonhoeffer’s memory? There really can be no equivalence between Nazi Germany and the Biden administration in the US. More than that, Bonhoeffer’s writings reflect the wrestlings of his conscience about whether, as a Christian, he could involve himself in violent conspiracies against the Nazi state.
It was as a last resort that he ultimately became associated with others preparing the July Plot in 1944, which, following its failure, led to his execution. He did not go to his death believing that he was a living embodiment of the Beatitudes: he went to his death believing that he was a moral failure, desperately in need of God’s forgiveness.
I remember being taught at Sunday school, in the 1960s, that Dietrich was a martyr. I guess that he would be astounded to be so described. In my family — and among our relatives who signed the recent statement — we have always honoured his Christian heroism and his lasting impact.
As the Bonhoeffer descendants recall, Bonhoeffer was not the only family member to be deeply involved in courageous opposition to the Nazis. His brother and two brothers-in-law were also executed as the war was in its last phase in Europe. Few, if any, other families in the German resistance suffered so many losses. That brave history still resonates.
Ultimately, it feels reassuring that someone who is regarded as a Christian martyr suffered from self-doubt like the rest of us. And, fundamentally, Christian martyrs are unjustly the victims of violence, not people who wantonly choose violence.
Andrew Lockley lives in Sheffield. His mother, Ursula, was a refugee from Germany with her parents in 1939. They were members of the Confessing Church, and his grandmother was a first cousin of Dietrich Bonhoeffer.
Read a review of The White Bonhoeffer by Tim Judson here
