Franz Jägerstätter

Lee Hoinacki

Go With God, Woodcut R. F. McGovern

What can I write about Franz Jägerstätter, an Austrian farmer who was beheaded by the Nazis on August 9, 1943? Many so-called facts are now known but, as Bishop Thomas Gumbleton points out, they can be interpreted in various ways, never, however, approaching the truth itself of the man. One sees, for example, in the accounts written by John Dear, a certain literary license intrudes. Again, the believer poses the question to himself: What is the truth of Jägerstätter? One can immediately see from the Jägerstätter documents published by Gordon Zahn in his remarkable book, In Solitary Witness, Jägerstätter thought coherently and clearly.

The first document is titled: “On the Question of Our day: Catholic or Nazi?” Jägerstätter points out that “There are only two alternatives possible: participation in the National Socialist Folk Community . . .” or to gain salvation as a Catholic. He says

If it [to be a Nazi] is useful for winning salvation, then it is a blessing for the whole German people that Nazism with all its organizations is so widespread and so strong among us — for I believe the German people were never so deeply involved in the works of Christian charity or so ready to

contribute as they are today to the Nazis. One has to marvel that in such a land even the most just can become confused. It simply means that there is no longer any likelihood that there will be a bloody persecution of Christians here — for virtually anything the Nazis want or demand Christians will yield.

Jägerstätter placed a lot of importance on the Anschluss of March 13, 1938, and the plebiscite in which 99.75% of the people of Austria voted in favor of union with Germany. In the referendum of April 10, 1938 Jägerstätter voted NO!

Over and over Jägerstätter’s perception and logic are admirable. For example, he wrote:

Actually, we should be ashamed of ourselves in comparison with the truly committed Party member who, for his part, even though his faith was rooted only in worldly things, fought for his ideals and

for his National Socialist ideology in the face of all prohibitions and did not even fear prison or

death. Would they have achieved their victory if they had been as timid and cowardly as we Catholics of Germany are today?

Jägerstätter also wrote these words in what Gordon Zahn calls “The Prison Statement.”

If God had not given me the grace and strength even to die for my faith if I have to, I, too, would probably be doing the same as most other Catholics. There are probably many Catholics who think they would be suffering and dying for the faith only if they had to suffer punishment for refusing to renounce the Catholic Church. But I believe that everyone who is ready to suffer and die rather than offend God by even the slightest venial sin also suffers for his faith.

Jägerstätter speaks also of the pain inflicted on his family:

Now anyone who is able to fight for both kingdoms and stay in good standing in both communities (that is, the community of saints and the Nazi Folk Community) and who is able to obey every command of the Third Reich—such a man, in my opinion, would have to be a great magician. I for

one cannot do so. And 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. It is certainly unfortunate that one cannot spare his family this sorrow. But the sorrows of this world are short-lived and soon pass away.

And then there are the facts . . . On May 20, 1907, Franz was born to an unmarried farmer’s maid, Rosalia Huber. She and the child’s father, who was killed in World War I, were too poor to get married. Later, his mother married Heinrich Jägerstätter, who adopted the child and whose name henceforth was Jägerstätter. At the parish church of St. Radegund, a place with about 500 persons in the diocese of Linz, Austria, Franz Jägerstätter was baptized; here he married, and here his three children, Maria, Aloisia and Rosalia were also christened.

In his wife, Franziska—they were married in 1936—he had an understanding companion; their strong mutual relationship and love were a crucial human support in the crises before and during his imprisonment. Bishop Gumbleton writes:

The witness for which we honor Franz Jägerstätter was a joint witness. His decision to resist to the death was made with Franziska. It was not made without pain or terrible soul-searching for both of

them, but it was made with humble clarity of conscience. His was the dramatic action; hers to live out that act of resistance.

Only in the Linz prison did Jägerstätter learn that others, too, had refused military service. He also learned that an Austrian priest, Franz Reinisch, had been a conscientious objector on the same grounds as Jägerstätter. He was in the prison at Linz in March and April of 1943. At the beginning of May he was transferred to Berlin-Tegel. His main trial occurred on July 6, 1943. On August 9, 1943, he was taken from Berlin to Brandenburg-Havel, and was beheaded at 4 in the afternoon. Bishop Gumbleton has said:

No holy person seeks martyrdom; a holy person seeks the grace of God and the peace of his people. But we know—our tradition tells us this over and over in the lives of the saints—that in some times and in some places, to know God and to speak God’s name is to risk one’s life. His

own martyrdom surely occurred when he knew that the wisdom of God demanded even this, his absolute separation from his wife and daughters in death.

Before the execution, Fr. Jochmann, the chaplain from Brandenburg, spent considerable time with Jägerstätter and was very impressed by the condemned man’s calmness and composure. For example, when offered a New Testament, Jägerstätter refused, and is reported as saying, “I am completely bound in inner union with the Lord.” That evening the chaplain told some Austrian nuns that Jägerstätter was the only saint he had met in his life. He is survived by his wife and three daughters, the eldest of whom was six at the time of her father’s execution. On May 7, 1997, the district court of Berlin reversed the death sentence against Jägerstätter.

Various books, articles and at least one documentary movie have appeared. But Gordon Zahn, with his book, In Solitary Witness, published in 1964, over twenty years after the execution of Jägerstätter is, perhaps, the news that generated subsequent interest in Jägerstätter.

Jägerstätter received a photo in his Berlin prison of his three daughters. They are holding up a large sign. It says: Lieber Vater komm bild! (Dear father, come soon!)

Lee Hoinacki

July 27, 2007, Philadelphia

(Diocese of Linz, Austria)