The Courage of Reconciliation: Lessons from Poland and Germany in 1965
in the aftermath of unimaginable suffering, the path to peace is rarely straightforward. Raymond J. de Souza’s recent writing highlights a remarkable, and initially controversial, example of this truth: the 1965 reconciliation initiative between the Polish and German Catholic Churches. This act, spearheaded by Polish bishops including Cardinal Stefan Wyszyński and than-Archbishop Karol Wojtyła (the future john Paul II), demonstrated that genuine mercy frequently enough demands both boldness and profound courage.
The initiative centered around a letter of invitation extended to German bishops in November 1965. Just twenty years after the defeat of Nazi Germany, the Polish bishops directly addressed the atrocities committed against Poland during the war.Yet, alongside this acknowledgement of immense suffering, they offered a stunning proposition: “We forgive and ask for forgiveness.”
While the German response was largely positive, the invitation sparked significant backlash within Poland. The idea of Poland, the victim of brutal aggression, extending a request for forgiveness to Germany felt, to manny, like a betrayal of national memory and dignity. The Polish bishops had, under decades of Stalinist repression, fiercely defended Polish identity and liberty, and this gesture was perceived as undermining that commitment.
The communist regime swiftly exploited the controversy,launching a propaganda campaign designed to fracture the relationship between the Polish people and their Church. Their slogan, “We do not forget and we will not forgive!” resonated with a public understandably steeped in grief and resentment.
Archbishop Wojtyła, though, powerfully defended the offer, grounding it in the core tenets of Christian ethics as found in the Gospels. He pointed to the German bishops’ acceptance of duty for German actions and their own plea for forgiveness as justification for a reciprocal response.
Wojtyła further articulated a crucial understanding of reconciliation, arguing that even across centuries of complex relations, it is unlikely that any nation exists without something for which to seek mutual forgiveness. While acknowledging the vast disparity in the offenses committed – German atrocities against Poland far outweighed any polish offenses against Germany – he emphasized that the act of asking forgiveness,even for lesser wrongs,fundamentally alters the dynamic. It shifts the focus away from resentment and retribution,softening hearts on both sides and opening the door to a truly renewed relationship.
The Polish bishops faced a difficult choice. They, like many in Poland, had personally experienced the horrors of the war and lost colleagues to Nazi persecution. A continuation of grievance would have been easily justified and widely supported. Yet, they chose a more challenging path, accepting potential criticism and personal cost.
Though initially met with resistance, their efforts eventually gained wider acceptance, demonstrating a remarkable act of moral courage and national leadership. As de souza notes, in a contemporary climate where reconciliation is often equated with weakness, the 1965 initiative serves as a potent reminder that it is, in fact, a profound strength.
A testament to this courage stands in Wrocław, a memorial to Cardinal Kominek depicting him with the dove of peace, bearing the inscription in both Polish and German: “We forgive and we ask forgiveness.” It is indeed a rare tribute, de souza points out, to those who build bridges rather than walls, a lesson notably relevant in the face of current conflicts and rising global tensions.