Morphemes in Kafka: The Guilt Particle

The standard reception of Kafka notes the theme of guilt and debt. The German noun Schuld denotes both financial debt and moral guilt. Kafka develops this theme both with Biblical allusions and with personal psychology.

While Schuld is a standalone noun, it is also a morpheme in compound words. These occurrences of Schuld are not always obvious in an English translation.

The text of Die Verwandlung is relatively short, yet it contains several instances of this morpheme. Early in the narrative, Gregor Samsa is laying in bed, thinking to himself:

Nun, die Hoffnung ist noch nicht gänzlich aufgegeben; habe ich einmal das Geld beisammen, um die Schuld der Eltern an ihn abzuzahlen – es dürfte noch fünf bis sechs Jahre dauern – , mache ich die Sache unbedingt.

In this first use of the word, Kafka shows two aspects of Schuld: It is hereditary, and it is his to pay. The connection to the Biblical concept of original sin is unmistakable.

The morpheme appears a second time, as Gregor ponders the humiliation he experiences when his employer sends someone important to inquire about his absence, instead of sending merely an errand boy:

Genügte es wirklich nicht, einen Lehrjungen nachfragen zu lassen – wenn überhaupt diese Fragerei nötig war – , mußte da der Prokurist selbst kommen, und mußte dadurch der ganzen unschuldigen Familie gezeigt werden, daß die Untersuchung dieser verdächtigen Angelegenheit nur dem Verstand des Prokuristen anvertraut werden konnte?

Here, the qualities of the guilt are reversed: the family is unschuldig, and should be protected in this state. Gregor has so internalized the inherited guilt that he sees the family, who transmitted the guilt to him, as guiltless. If the family is innocent, then perhaps Gregor has become the source of guilt.

A question presents itself about the distinction between being guilty, and being perceived as guilty.

Gregor’s father says that the man from Gregor’s employer wants to enter the room and speak with Gregor personally. To dispel any hesitance of Gregor’s part, the father indicates that the man would certainly overlook any disorder in the room:

Er wird die Unordnung im Zimmer zu entschuldigen schon die Güte haben.

To ‘overlook’ the clutter in the room is to ‘de-guilt’ it: entschuldigen.

Analyzing his family’s actions, he likewise ‘de-guilts’ their behavior, because it’s caused by ‘uncertainty.’ To ‘excuse’ is again to ‘de-guilt’:

Aber es war eben die Ungewißheit, welche die anderen bedrängte und ihr Benehmen entschuldigte.

Once again the family is the locus of guilt, and they need to be ‘de-guilted.’

Gregor’s sister harbors dreams of studying, and when Gregor mentions the topic, which his parents don’t like, he proceeds to defend himself by saying that his comment was guiltless:

Öfters während der kurzen Aufenthalte Gregors in der Stadt wurde in den Gesprächen mit der Schwester das Konservatorium erwähnt, aber immer nur als schöner Traum, an dessen Verwirklichung nicht zu denken war, und die Eltern hörten nicht einmal diese unschuldigen Erwähnungen gern; aber Gregor dachte sehr bestimmt daran und beabsichtigte, es am Weihnachtsabend feierlich zu erklären.

With the next instance of the word, Gregor’s thoughts have come full circle, and the parents are again the locus of guilt. The focus is sharper this time, and the father is the specific bearer of guilt.

This corresponds both to Kafka’s own problematic relationship with his father, and to the classic formulations of original sin, which focus on Adam rather than Eve.

Eigentlich hätte er ja mit diesen überschüssigen Geldern die Schuld des Vaters gegenüber dem Chef weiter abgetragen haben können, und jener Tag, an dem er diesen Posten hätte loswerden können, wäre weit näher gewesen, aber jetzt war es zweifellos besser so, wie es der Vater eingerichtet hatte.

Kafka’s concept of guilt is fluid and ubiquitous. Fluid, inasmuch as source or focus of the guilt seems to alternate between Gregor and his parents. Ubiquitous, inasmuch as it seems to eventually involve everyone everywhere.

When Gregor sees himself as the bearer of guilt, his neurotic imagination hypothesizes that this would perhaps kill his mother:

Gregor war nun von der Mutter abgeschlossen, die durch seine Schuld vielleicht dem Tode nahe war.

Gregor is not the only one thinking about guilt. Gregor seems to have long feared the contents of his father’s thought. The father makes his opinion about Gregor explicit: the father attributes guilt to Gregor.

Gregor war es klar, daß der Vater Gretes allzu kurze Mitteilung schlecht gedeutet hatte und annahm, daß Gregor sich irgendeine Gewalttat habe zuschulden kommen lassen.

Gregor describes the father’s attitude toward the lodgers: he owes them respect. Because ‘guilt’ and ‘debt’ are both Schuld, to ‘owe’ something is the verb schulden.

The three lodgers, with their significant full beards, may be symbols for Judaism. Kafka’s relationship to Judaism was complex. Like the lodgers, Judaism was in Kafka’s environment, in his family. Yet, like the lodgers and their aloof behavior, Judaism remained just out of Kafka’s grasp, un-internalized.

Just as Gregor’s father ‘owes’ respect to the lodgers, Kafka’s fathered owed respect to Judaism. Kafka was disappointed that his father was not pious or observant; he was disappointed that his father hadn’t done a more thorough job of passing this spiritual heritage on to his son.

Der Vater schien wieder von seinem Eigensinn derartig ergriffen, daß er jeden Respekt vergaß, den er seinen Mietern immerhin schuldete.

The final instance of the Schuld morpheme is at the end of the story. Gregor is dead, and family has decided to take a day off, and go outdoors for some recreation.

The father, mother, and sister each write a letter of excuse to their respective employers. A ‘letter of excuse’ is ‘de-guilting letter’:

Und so setzten sie sich zum Tisch und schrieben drei Entschuldigungsbriefe, Herr Samsa an seine Direktion, Frau Samsa an ihren Auftraggeber, und Grete an ihren Prinzipal.

These ten occurrences of the Schuld morpheme are located throughout the narrative, and support the standard reading of Die Verwandlung. Moral guilt, often symbolized by financial debt, remains a principal theme in the text.

Ludwig Erhard Revives German Economy: From Stunde Null to Wirtschaftswunder

When WW2 ended in 1945, Germany had been decimated in several ways: millions of innocent Germans had died in concentration camps; young German men had died fighting at the front; civilians had died in the bombing of German cities. The physical infrastructure of the nation was in shambles: roads, bridges, railroads, water pipes, sewage pipes, electrical generation, telephone service, etc., were largely destroyed.

But in one further way the nation suffered. Its economy had been ravaged by the Nazi government. Meaningful work was scarce, and the threat of starvation real.

The Nazis had devastated the nation’s economy by means of their political ideology: “Nazi” means “National Socialist.”

The brutal and inhumane practices of the Nazis included high rates of taxation, government control of wages and prices, and government ownership of various businesses and industries. According to their socialist principles, they regulated nearly every transaction. Freedom to negotiate or make deals was non-existent.

The inevitable effects of these National Socialist policies included extreme scarcity of consumer goods and a thriving black market. Although it was dangerous to participate in the black market, individuals could find the freedom to negotiate and make deals there.

Many observers thought that Germany would be locked into a “third-world” status for many decades to come. The standard of living in postwar Germany was one of the lowest in the entire world.

Economically, the nation was starting over with nearly no resources. Historians called it Stunde Null - the ‘zero hour’ at which some rebirth might begin. Without material resources, this new beginning would be fueled by the visionary ideas of Ludwig Erhard.

The beginning of Germany’s amazing recovery was a set of ideas advanced by Ludwig Erhard. Within a single decade, Germany’s economy would be one of the strongest in the world.

Ludwig Erhard’s ideas centered on the idea of liberty. The National Socialists had taken away nearly every form of personal freedom, and especially economic freedom. Erhard would reverse the damage done by the Nazis. He would do that by increasing personal liberty, and especially the freedom of the individual to make economic choices.

Erhard, simply put, saw that economic recovery would come through a respect for personal freedom and through honoring the dignity of the individual and the individual’s liberty to make choices. Charles Moritz’s Current Biography reports that

On June 20, 1948, following the collapse of the West German economy, the occupation government introduced the currency reform and issued the new German mark, which aimed at increasing the purchasing power of the German wage earner. On the following day Erhard announced the removal of price controls and rationing, a move that he felt was necessary to make the full benefits of currency reform available to the people. Erhard reportedly took this step on his own initiative despite the misgivings of the American military governor, General Lucius D. Clay, and other Allied authorities. Although at first there were food shortages, accompanied by occasional disturbances, the economy soon revived. Meanwhile, Erhard kept up public morale by applying Seelenmassagen (soul massages) in the form of optimistic radio talks and newspaper articles.

Erhard’s economic leadership brought about a Wirtschaftswunder - an ‘economic miracle’ in which Germany’s exports increased by 700 percent between 1948 and 1962. Unemployed neared zero, and the national currency, worthless in 1947, was one of the world’s most stable currencies in the late 1950s.

By the time he was elected chancellor of West Germany in October 1963, Ludwig Erhard had already done his most important work during his years as Economics Minister under Chancellor Konrad Adenauer.

Possessing academic inclinations, Erhard authored several books on economics, and viewed his work less from the perspective of partisan politics and more from the perspective of a theoretical fiscal and monetary scholar.

Trakl the Compassionate Prophet: A Kinder, Gentler Apocalypse

Like several other artists during the years immediately prior to World War One, the Austrian poet Georg Trakl was haunted by insights that his society was headed for a self-destructive event, and that in this society there was a moral emptiness and a moral superficiality.

Trakl was a prophet.

In Western Civilization, the prophetic tradition, going back 3,000 to 4,000 years, can be characterized by three concepts. The prophet is social critic, a spokesman for God, and seer who has visions of the future.

Within the literary prophetic paradigm, there are subtypes: on the one hand, the condemnatory prophet who utters wrath and judgment; on the other hand, the compassionate prophet who sees the impending doom and empathizes with the soon-to-be victims.

One locus classicus for the compassionate prophet is the event during which Jesus wept about the future of the city of Jerusalem. He expresses a deep personal sadness for the residents of the city, even while explaining the terror which the Romans will inflict on it (cf. Luke 19, Matthew 23).

According to scholar Erasmo Leiva-Merikakis, Trakl falls into the pattern of the compassionate prophet:

The relationship of prophet to decadence is less that of one who condemns than of one who transfigures. In this respect, Trakl is as different from the other Expressionists in their vitriolic anger as Dostoievski, the underground man, was from Tolstoy, the rationalist utopian. Although seeing decay and corruption everywhere, Trakl never makes himself a force for their destruction, but for their atonement. Rather than separate himself as justified saint over against the bleak reality of his era, Trakl identifies himself so fully with it, rather in the manner of Hosea, the prophet who fornicates with a prostitute, that at times he appears himself to be a demonic visionary.

To support this hypothesis, Leiva-Merikakis cites lines from Trakl’s poem das Grauen. Clearly, Trakl presents a vision of coming destruction:

Ich sah mich durch verlass’ne Zimmer gehen.

As the poem continues, Trakl’s empathy moves him from merely reporting what he observes. His compassion moves him to an identification with the future destruction:

Doch plötzlich: Stille! Dumpfe Fieberglut
Läßt giftige Blumen blühn aus meinem Munde

‘Poisonous flowers’ emerge from Trakl’s mouth, perhaps in a state of delirium. Trakl sees himself as burdened with unpleasant task of predicting a dark future. He takes no joy in his role as seer. He does not wish ill on those who will suffer in the coming disaster. Perhaps he even feels some guilt about it.

But if Trakl identifies with the destruction, he does so only in part, because he also identifies with the destroyed. He may pronounce judgment, but he includes himself among those being judged:

Aus eines Spiegels trügerischer Leere
Hebt langsam sich, und wie ins Ungefähre
Aus Graun und Finsternis ein Antlitz: Kain!

Sehr leise rauscht die samtene Portiere,
Durchs Fenster schaut der Mond gleichwie ins Leere,
Da bin mit meinem Mörder ich allein.

Comparing himself to the fratricidal Cain, Trakl sees himself to be both murderer and victim.

While Leiva-Merikakis correctly points to Das Grauen to support and explain his hypothesis about Trakl being a compassionate prophet, Trakl’s body of work abounds with other texts which also support and exemplify this view of the poet.

Trakl’s poem Abendland arrived at its final state by means of three or four early drafts. These drafts have survived. Both the future disaster, and Trakl’s compassion for its victims, are seen in the text. The suffering is clear:

Silbern weint ein Krankes
Am Abendweiher,
Auf schwarzem Kahn
Hinüberstarben Liebende.

And later:

O des Knaben Gestalt
Geformt aus kristallenen Tränen.

Toward the end of the final draft, Trakl exclaims:

Ihr sterbenden Völker!

These are representative of many other phrases which are found in all four or five drafts of the poem.

Likewise, Trakl’s compassion for those who will suffer in the coming disaster manifests itself. In one draft, he uses the first person to include himself:

Und wir haben im Schlaf geweint.

He describes the Schwermut and das dunkle Lied der Schmerzen without making them into a punishment or a condemnation. And he includes, perhaps, a hint about a coming atonement or redemption:

Auch freut die Stille der Kinder
Die Nähe der Engel
Auf kristallener Wiese.

Trakl’s poetry, famous for its dark and foreboding tone, is softened by his identification with those who suffer, and by his allusions to a future atonement. Indeed, according to Leiva-Merikakis, Trakl sees his own poetry as part of that atoning process.

The Socialist Attack on Religion: Hitler Attempts to Erase Faith

When Hitler’s National Socialist party seized power in Germany in early 1933, it began a multifaceted effort to eliminate organized religion.

One aspect of this undertaking was to promote a resurgence of ancient Norse mythologies. This ancient belief system consisted of a polytheistic myths. The harsh nature of these myths included human sacrifice, vengeance killings, and the relegation of women to an inferior status.

A second aspect of the Nazi effort - remember that ‘Nazi’ means ‘National Socialist’ - was the promotion of atheism. Most Nazi institutions were officially atheist, as were many of the Nazi leaders. (Those Nazi leaders who weren’t atheists engaged in various Wicca activities like Norse mythology and nature worship.)

The third and final aspect of the National Socialist attempt to eliminate religious faith was to infiltrate and subvert existing religious institutions. The people who been members of religious societies or churches for many years didn’t want to quit being a part of those groups.

So the Nazis worked to deceive the members: The church’s building was still open at the same time on Sunday mornings, so people thought they they were “going to church.” But the National Socialists had replaced the decorations inside the church with Nazi banners and swastikas. The person who gave the speech was no longer a Christian minister talking about Jesus, but a Nazi talking about Hitler.

When the National Socialists first seized the government in 1933, they signed a commitment called a ‘concordat’ and they promised to let religious groups have some freedom. But they quickly broke that promise. Published research from the Weiße Rose Stiftung (The White Rose Foundation) reports that

According to the concordat between the Third Reich and the Holy See in 1933, Catholic youth organizations were permitted uniforms, insignia, and banners. Despite that agreement, they were harassed, persecuted and finally outlawed in 1938.

All varieties of Christianity were targeted by the National Socialists: Roman Catholics, Lutherans, Calvinists, and others. The Nazi’s own youth club swallowed up some of the other youth groups which had existed before 1933.

Young people in these groups discovered that when their local church youth group was blended into the National Socialist Hitlerjugend, the group ceased to be a safe place. These high school students then left, and resisted by forming their own groups.

On December 18, 1933, the Protestant Youth was incorporated into the Nazi State Youth organization.

Christians formed several resistance movements, and these movements worked together. One of them was the Bekennende Kirche (The Confessing Church). The word ‘confessing’ meant that they would confess what they knew to be true, and thereby oppose the National Socialists.

Yet, as soon as they realized that the cross had to be exchanged for the swastika, they founded the ‘Young Reformation Movement.’ It was part of the ‘Bekennende Kirche’ (Confessional Church). It was in this group that Christians who resisted National Socialism united.

The quotes above are taken from a 1991 publication by the Weiße Rose Stiftung, edited by Franz Josef Müller, and including work by Ulrich Chaussy, Christiane Moll, Franz Josef Müller, Britta Müller-Baltschun, and Hans Wrobel.

A Diverse and Ununified Collection of Groups: The Germans Before Germany

To think of Germany as a political unit prior to 1871, or to think of it as a consistent territory which can be outlined with geographical boundaries on a map, is a mistake which will lead to serious misperceptions of history. A diverse and divergent collection of languages, cultures, societies, and political structures filled central Europe prior to the formation of German in 1871.

Linguistically, the difference between Vienna and Kiel, or between Freiburg and Königsberg, was so great in the Middle Ages that speech was not mutually intelligible and the residents of these regions communicated with other regions by means of Latin rather than contrasting regional forms of German.

Beyond linguistic variations, there were political variations: some regions were monarchies - kingdoms, duchies, principalities, etc. - while others were self-governing free imperial cities.

Likewise, religion varied from area to area: Lutheran, Roman Catholic, Calvinist ‘Reformed,’ and Prussian ‘Union.’ In addition to those variants, many areas tolerated multiple religious viewpoints in a side-by-side peaceful coexistence, and Jewish regions and neighborhoods dotted the map as well.

It would be a grave error to view, e.g., J.S. Bach and Wolfgang Mozart as sharing some category called ‘German composers.’ Their societies and cultures were quite different. Mozart was a Roman Catholic from Austria; Bach was a Lutheran from Saxony.

Although Mozart was born six years after Bach died, time was the smallest difference between them.

Likewise, it would be a mistake to look for some unifying substance between German philosophers. They vary from Leibniz to Marx, from Kant to Heidegger, Fichte to Wittgenstein, and from Frege to Husserl.

There is also no common essence among German psychologists or politicians. The only common factor, as historian Jan von Flocken notes, is that many of them were the opposite of each other:

Wenn überhaupt etwas sich wie ein roter Faden durch die antiken Überlieferungen zum Thema Germanen zieht, dann zahlreiche Berichte von der ständigen Zwietracht zwischen den einzelnen Stämmen sowie über ihre Unfähigkeit, sich dauerhaft miteinander zu liieren. Daraus ein Leitmotiv deutscher Geschichte zu konstruieren, wäre freilich genauso verfehlt, wie die Behauptung, zwischen Martin Luther und Adolf Hitler hätte eine geistige Kontinuität bestanden. Dass Letzteres von manchen Historikern versucht wurde, sagt nichts über den Wahrheitsgehalt dieser These aus.

The student should look, then, for the contrasts among the Germans. Bach’s music is the opposite of Richard Wagner’s. Eugen Richter’s political economics are the opposite of Marx’s.

So there is no unifying theme, but much rather a conflict of opposites, between, e.g., freedom-loving thought of Ludwig Erhard and the regulating interventionism of Jürgen Habermas. The contrast could not be greater between Hitler’s destructiveness and Martin Luther’s spiritual nurturing of the human spirit.

The earliest history of the ‘Germans’ has sometimes been misunderstood in way that makes it seem like they were a unified group. But it was not the ‘Germans,’ but rather the ‘Germanic tribes’ who defeated the Roman army at the Battle of Teutoberger Forest in the year 9 A.D.

It was a temporary coalition of very diverse tribes, working together under leadership of Hermann, known as Armenius. These same tribes, before and after this landmark event, were just as likely to fight against each other as to be allies.

Resisting Hitler: Ideas Unify Underground Groups

Scattered across Germany between 1933 and 1945 was a network of individuals and groups who firmly opposed Hitler’s National Socialism. These people were in many ways diverse.

On the one hand were old-guard monarchists and aristocrats who saw the National Socialist (‘Nazi’) Party as lowbrow rabble who would lessen the status of the nobility; these royalists understood that nationalism caused citizens to identify with the nation-state and not with the dynasty.

On the other hand were nationalists who didn’t mind the decline of the aristocrats, but who saw that Hitler’s National Socialism would eventually damage the nation. These patriotic nationalists wanted to save the nation from National Socialism.

Also part of this informal network of anti-Hitler agents were pacifists, communists, and representative of other political views. But they were solidly united in their opposition to the Nazi government.

The famous student organization called “The White Rose” is representative of these groups. Many of its members have become famous: Sophie Scholl, Hans Scholl, Alex Schmorell, Christoph Probst, Willi Graf, Kurt Huber, Traute Lafrenz, Katharina Schüddekopf, Lieselotte (“Lilo”) Berndl, Jürgen Wittenstein, and many others.

Within the White Rose group, there was a diversity of spiritual traditions: Hans and Sophie Scholl were Lutherans; Willi Graf and Katharina Schüddekopf were Roman Catholics; Alexander Schmorell embraced the Eastern Orthodox faith of Ukraine and Russia.

One of the unifying influences within the White Rose was Augustine, whose writings offered an intellectual framework both to critique National Socialism and to plan a better postwar society. Another unifying influence was Clemens Galen, known by his hereditary title of Graf Galen (‘Graf’ means ‘Count’), the Bishop of Münster, who boldly preached against Hitler’s plans.

Those who opposed Hitler understood that, more than merely risking their lives, they were undertaking a course of action that not only possibly, but probably, would lead to their arrest, abuse, interrogation, humiliation, and death. As historian Frank McDonough writes, it was ultimately a spiritual undertaking:

Devotion to God was a unifying factor. These young people searched for a spiritual definition of humanity. The writings of the theological scholar St. Augustine made a deep impression upon Sophie and Hans and made them realize that deep philosophical thinking had to take place before real faith could begin. The constant encroachment by the Nazi regime against organized religion was undoubtedly a key motivation in the decision to mount active opposition. They all emphasized Christianity as the basis for moral regeneration in a post-Hitler Germany.

These underground resistance groups carried out a range of activities, from smuggling Jews into safety to industrial sabotage which reduced war supplies, from direct assassination attempts on Hitler to providing intelligence to the English and Americans.

The net impact of these groups can be measured in terms of the number of lives saved and the amount of time by which the war was shortened. Yet a more profound measure of their effect is found in the inspiration which postwar generations drew from their memory.

A Three-Pronged Attack on Freedom

Long before the Hitler’s National Socialists (‘Nazis’) seized power in 1933, they had made it clear that they knew which obstacles would stand in the way of their plans for war, imperialism, and genocide. When they finally took power, they began to eliminate those obstacles before they began their horrific actions.

One source of resistance to National Socialist plans was the Christian faith in its various forms. In Germany at that time, the people who followed Jesus were distributed among Lutheran, Roman Catholic, and Reformed churches.

While these competing churches disagreed with each other in some beliefs, the believers in them were clearly united in their opposition to Hitler. Likewise, the National Socialists were united in their determination to eliminate Christianity in Germany.

The effort to eradicate the Christian faith was sometimes direct and blatant, but more often devious. Rather than simply shut church buildings or destroy them, the buildings were left standing, and used for events which seemed like Christian worship services, but were not.

In these fake churches, the Cross was often replaced by the swastika. The Bible (as the word ‘Bible’ is historically understood) was replaced by quotations from Hitler and Nazi propaganda.

The people could still gather there on Sunday mornings, and there was music and candles were lit, but the substance was gone, and National Socialism prevailed. Bit by bit, churches were eliminated throughout Germany and replaced by weekly pro-Nazi events.

Indeed, if people weren't watching and listening carefully, they were fooled, and did not realize that the church had been replaced by a Nazi propaganda event which look similar. Some church leaders were corrupted by the Nazis into aided them in creating this counterfeit church.

But what would replace Christianity? If the National Socialists had their way, and succeeded in extinguishing Christianity, what belief system would inform the spiritual worldview of the new empire which they hoped to establish?

They needed to eliminate the central historical role of Jesus in religious life, because Jesus was a Jew and because Jesus introduced and advocated views including a moderate form of pacifism and a recognition of the fundamental sanctity and value of every human life.

Hitler’s National Socialists also needed to remove Jesus from the public consciousness because Jesus had voluntarily endured a humiliating death in order to serve and liberate others. The Nazi image of heroism did not include such humility.

They had a threefold effort to replace the historic faith in Jesus.

First, some of the Nazis embraced and promoted a hard-nosed and intolerant atheism. Second, some of them wanted to revive the pre-Christian Norse mythology, a merciless form of religion which had ruled northern Europe prior to the introduction of Christianity, which had featured human sacrifice, and which had treated women as property. Third, another group of Nazis continued the fake version of Christianity and operated groups which seemed to be churches in the buildings which formerly had been churches.

One historian, Eric Kurlander, quoting Wolfgang Kaufmann, reports that “virtually ‘all leading ideologues’ in the Nazi movement ‘rejected Christianity.’” They “shared the firm conviction that” Christianity had “to be replaced.”

It is clear that “the Nazis rejected Christianity.” The only difference among various groups within National Socialism was “the various spiritual and ideological elements than many Nazis sought in (re) constructing a religious alternative to Christianity.”

In order to survive, the remaining followers of Jesus had to go underground, meeting in secret. They formed a network, and included a number of people who became famous for their sincere faith: Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Max Kolbe, Sophie Scholl, Hans Scholl, and others.

These daring individuals worked simultaneously to help Jews escape from Nazi territories and to actively resist Nazi efforts. Resistance ranged from slowing the transportation of war materials to several attempts directly to assassinate Hitler himself.

Because the National Socialists were not successful in completely erasing Christianity in Germany, a resistance effort was able to save the lives of Jews and slow the Nazi war effort.