In 2002, in an address to the German Bundestag, United States President George Bush mentioned the name of a German theologian, âone of the greatest Germans of the twentieth centuryâ, who âgave witness to the Gospel of life, and paid the cost of his discipleshipâ (Bush 2002). This man was Dietrich Bonhoeffer, an ostensibly pacifist theologian who became a double agent for the German Resistance , and a conspirator in the attempted overthrow of Hitler. In the antipodean part of the world, another political leader declared that Bonhoeffer was the person he admired most in the history of the twentieth century . For former Australian Prime Minister, Kevin Rudd , Bonhoeffer demonstrates a âmuscular Christianityâ, an example of a man who strove for a just world delivered by social action, driven by personal faith (Rudd 2006: 22â30). For Rudd, Bonhoeffer died a peacemaker, a Christian pastor, committed social democrat and passionate internationalist. Such was his admiration of Bonhoeffer that Rudd believed Bonhoeffer held the answers to some of the most pressing problems facing the West today: âHow would Bonhoeffer respond to militant Islam and to the broader challenge of international terrorism today?â (Rudd 2006).
Who is this man who inspires political leaders? Undoubtedly his life as a double agent for the German resistance and his involvement in the plot to assassinate Hitler make for a gripping tale; his death at the hand of the Nazis only days before the liberation of Germany, a tragic end. However, it is not these few biographical details that are significant in and of themselves. Bonhoeffer may very well have remained as little known as Paul Schneider , a Lutheran Pastor and the first Protestant minister executed by lethal injection at Buchenwald in 1939. But obscurity was not to be Bonhoefferâs fate.
Three months after Dietrich Bonhoeffer was killed on charges of conspiracy against the state, George Bell , his close friend and Bishop of Chichester, declared during a commemoration service that Bonhoeffer belonged to a ânoble company of martyrs â who represent, in the name of God, resistance to evil, and in the name of human conscience, resistance against injustice and cruelty (Bell cited in Middleton 2011: 19). This image of Bonhoeffer as both agent of God and political liberator was quickly taken up into the English-speaking world. The American theologian Reinhold Niebuhr, in an article titled âThe Death of a Martyrâ, declared that Bonhoeffer was an example of a modern apostle who, through his actions and precepts, provided the hope for a revitalised. Protestant faithâa faith that will have overcome the âone fateful error of German Protestantism, the complete dichotomy between faith and political lifeâ (Niebuhr cited in Nelson 1999: 22).
In the first comprehensive study of Protestant sainthood in 1968, Bonhoeffer was listed as one of the âgreat Protestants who have become canonizedâ (Harper cited in Haynes 2004: 127). Thirty years later, the Archbishop of Canterbury, George Carey, in the presence of Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip, unveiled a Bonhoeffer statue amongst nine other modern-day Christian martyrs, including Martin Luther King and Oscar Romero, in the Western main entrance of Westminster Abbey. In 2008, the United Methodist General Conference named Bonhoeffer a modern martyr (Bloom 2008). Today, devotees of this âProtestant Saintâ can buy Bonhoeffer plaques and prayer cards online 1 and the day of his death is commemorated in Atwellâs Celebrating the Saints (Atwell 2004: 178â182).
The idea of Bonhoeffer as a Christian martyr has been explored and to some extent encouraged by theologians. In Bonhoeffer as Martyr, Craig Slane sees Bonhoeffer as an example of a ânew alphabetâ of modern martyrdom. This new alphabet includes Bonhoefferâs freely chosen suffering, rejection of self-sought martyrdom, solidarity of guilt , authentic Christian character and recognition of the authority of death. In an attempt to find a âtheologicalâ epitaph rather than a purely âmoral oneâ, Slane maps Bonhoefferâs death on H.A. Fischelâs narrative pattern in his monumental study, Martyr and Prophet (1946â1947). Here, he finds a theological rationale for identifying Bonhoeffer as a prophet-martyr identification (Slane 2004: 13, 76). For Slane, martyrdom provides âthe hermeneutic key for interpreting Bonhoefferâs life and thoughtâ (Slane 2004: 13). Slaneâs theologically grounded analysis interprets Bonhoefferâs life and death as demonstrating âauthentic Christian characterâ. It is this idea of Christian character that also seems to have inspired Bush and Rudd .
Yet this contemporary prophet-martyr who demonstrates authentic Christian character has inspired more than Western political leaders. The question âHow would Bonhoeffer respond to the drafting of American soldiers in the Vietnam war?â was asked by a Jesuit priest in the 1970s. Father
Daniel Berrigan believed he enacted an answer when he protested by burning draft files. Subsequently disappearing underground rather than serve his prison sentence, he wrote:
I begin these notes on 9 April 1970. Two hours ago, at 8:30 a.m. I became a fugitive from injustice, having disobeyed a federal court order to begin a three-year sentence or destruction of draft files two years ago. It is the twenty-fifth anniversary of the death of Dietrich Bonhoeffer in Flossenburg prison, for resistance to Hitler . (Berrigan 1972)
While Berrigan did not resort to violence against another person, his protest was highly political.
Far more willing to resort to violence was Reverend Paul Hill who shot dead Dr. James Britton and security officer James Barrett outside a Florida abortion clinic in 1993. Before his execution in September 2003, Hill claimed Bonhoeffer as the justification for his actions (Haynes 2004: 171). Hillâs supporters fervently embraced this Bonhoeffer analogy and Hill became the hero-martyr of violent anti-abortionists. According to supporters, both Bonhoeffer and Hill were âclergymen who were at odds with the passivity and cowardice of their fellow Christians to resist a holocaustâ, both âwere determined to defend the defencelessâ, despite âthe silence of an emasculated churchâ, and both âlaid down their lives gladly for what they believedâ (Pavone 2006). In the same vein, Michael Bray , âthe spiritual godfather of anti-abortion violenceâ forges similar symbolic links to Nazi Germany. His âdefinitive book on the ethical justification for anti-abortion violenceâ names Bonhoeffer as its âmoral exemplarâ (Juergensmeyer 2000: 21â22).
The range of individuals inspired by Bonhoeffer shows that his authentic Christian character has the power to inspire a diverse community who have all asked the same question: âHow would Bonhoeffer respond toâŠ?â In asking this question, we must recognise that the Bonhoeffer image that nobly inspires the political leader of a Western democratic nation also seems to inspire the subversive, violent protester within a Western democratic nation. I will now boldly suggest that there is one more candidate who may ask the question, âHow would Bonhoeffer respond toâŠ?â
She is a small, young bespectacled woman, her hair in two plaits. Her appearance designed to inspire trust and confidence, she has carefully prepared for this day. Dressed in the colours of the Indian national flag to ensure she blends into the crowd, she wears a green and orange salwar kameez and carries a sandalwood pellet garland, appropriate to a high-value person, with which to honour the Indian President, Rajiv Ghandi (Roberts 2010: 31). She bends down to touch his feet, a sign of respect. With a nod, he acknowledges the gesture. Then, crouched down and kneeling before him, she flicks a manual switch, detonating her belt filled with plastic explosives and ball bearings. Armed with undetectable explosives beneath her guileless, feminine clothing, the angel of death fulfils her appointed task.
In asking the question, âHow should I respond to the aggressive occupation and oppression of my peopleâ, â
Dhanu â, the 1991
Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) female suicide bomber who killed the Indian politician Rajiv Ghandi, answered with a decisive act in the Bonhoeffer spirit.
2 Following her death, the head of the LTTEâs political wing declared âDhanuâ
had given the ultimate gift: her act, as all such sacrifices by the
Black Tigers , âa gift of the selfâŠThe Person who gives him or herself in fullâ (Thamilchelvam cited in Hopgood
2005: 74). An act praised by her leader, Prabhakaran on Heroesâ Day, July 1993, as the
martyrdom of those who have sacrificed their lives for a just cause:
Their demise does not constitute an ordinary event of death. Rather, their death signifies a profound spiritual aspiration for national freedom. Our martyrs die in the arena of struggle with the intense passion for the freedom of their people, for the liberation of their homeland, and therefore, the death of every martyr constitutes a brave act of enunciation of freedom. (Prabhakaran 1993)
The fervent praise of the self-styled âsun godâ, Prabhakaran, echoes the speech given by Bishop Bell in commemoration of Bonhoeffer.
Dhanuâs political act was not the act of a solitary, rogue individual manipulated and motivated by religious zeal, as one informed by the popular media might suppose. In the final weeks of her life, Dhanu had been to market, the beach and restaurants, watched six movies at the cinema and enjoyed the luxuries of Madras; altogether, a person who enjoyed the good things in life. According to Robert Pape, Dhanu âclearly had nerves of steelâ (Pape 2005: 230). With her nerves of steel, Dhanu was typical of the Black Tiger mould. For Black Tigers, mental stability and a high level of motivation to complete the mission were amongst the main selection criteria, followed by careful, rigorous and dedicated training. Each individual knew full well what was expected of him or her; each individual was carefully trained to ensure the success of their mission (Pape 2005: 229â230).
Black Tigers were extremely motivated because they were deeply rooted in and committed to their culture and to the dream of a homeland. Each LTTE fighter took an oath, committing themselves to their holy (punita) aim: âThe task (or thirst) of the Tigers (is to achieve) Motherland Tamililamâ (cited in Roberts 2010: 35). Instead of the Tamil word for suicide, thatkolai, the Tigers used thatkodai, âto give yourselfâ to indicate their commitment to self-sacrifice for their people (Hopgood 2005: 74). Fighting for their Motherland, their people fully supported the Black Tigers in the community. While Tiger leaders had publicly disagreed with the leader of the LTTE, none condemned Tiger suicide attackers (Pape 2005: 146).
In addition to public support of their leaders, the Black Tigers were heroes in their community. After Dhanuâs sacrifice, numerous women joined the LTTE to follow in her footsteps. Each year on July 5th, thousands attended the âHeroesâ Dayâ celebrations, commemorating the first Black Tig...