Nov 21, 2011
After the ambiguities of France and the outright collaboration of priests and bishops in countries such as Croatia and Slovakia, the story of Belgium’s Catholic Church during the Second World War will come as some relief. For once, there are few ambiguities in the story. Strangely, in a nation riven internally along ethnic lines and where there were large numbers of volunteers for the SS and the German army, the Church stands out as a beacon of hope.
There were precedents. During the First World War, the mercurial Cardinal Archbishop of Mechelen-Malines, Désirè-Joseph Mercier, had been the voice of Belgian opposition against German occupation. However, Mercier had also been a firm believer in the supremacy of the French-speaking Walloons over the Dutch-speaking Flemings. It was to the latter that the Germans appealed in the First World War, but such was the standing of the Church amongst them, that, on the whole, their appeals went unheard.
Interestingly, the main appeal of Fascism in pre-1940 Belgium was amongst the Walloons. The largest Fascist party in Western Europe, Rex, founded by Léon Degrelle, was rooted amongst ethnic French-speakers. This is, perhaps, not that surprising. Degrelle had studied at a Jesuit college, where he had discovered the inspiration behind France’s Action Française, Charles Maurras. Once more one has the odd spectacle of a man with deep-seated Catholic convictions being swayed by the utilitarian, agnostic and deeply unspiritual Maurras. Degrelle was impressed by the heroism of the Mexican Catholics who fought against the anti-clerical regime of that country during the Cristero War, and would base his own political movement on their battle cry: Viva Christo Rey.
Degrelle soon went on a journey that would lead him outside the Catholic fold. Meetings with Hitler, Mussolini and other European Fascist leaders brought him closer to mainstream Fascism, and further away from the Magisterium of the Church. Rex became an electoral success, incredibly gathering many votes not only amongst Walloons, but also amongst Belgium’s German minority and amongst the Flemish. In 1935, the movement was expelled from the Catholic Party, and, when the war broke out, Degrelle soon found himself excommunicated for wearing a SS uniform to Mass. He had volunteered for the SS, membership of which movement the Belgian hierarchy had banned on the basis of its pagan creed.
Degrelle would survive the war and live in Spain until his death in 1994. His Rex movement had a Flemish counterpart, the VNV, Vlaamsch Nationaal Verbond, or Flemish National Union. This had no Catholic roots to speak of. It had split from the Frontpartij, a Flemish emancipation movement that had begun in the trenches at the front during the First World War. There, Flemish soldiers had been refused the courtesy of being commanded in their own language, which had galvanized an incipient Flemish movement.
However, this movement was deeply Catholic, and totally devoted to the Church. Its heroes were men who had fought and died for the Church, and at the IJzer River, just outside Ieper, they had erected a large cross inscribed with the letters AVV – VVC, all for Flanders, Flanders for Christ.
The VNV walked away from all of this, under the leadership of Staf de Clercq, who totally identified with the neo-paganism and Social Darwinist racism of the German Nazis. In Flanders as in Wallonia, thousands joined the SS under the banner of localized nationalist sentiment. However, the Church had no desire to condone these movements: on the contrary, as in the case with Degrelle, she went to war with Belgium’s Fascists. Indeed, under its formidable leader, Jozef-Ernst Cardinal van Roey, she went to war with Nazism and Hitler.