A Theology of Resistance

Last summer’s heart-rending spectacle of Soviet troops and armor moving across Czechoslovakia, squelching and smothering the fresh flowers of freedom newly blooming there, was heightened by the tensions within the Czechs themselves: Should they resist or not?

Peace-loving Protestant theologian Joseph Hromadka, who had to his own satisfaction defended the accommodation Christians were making under the Czech Communist government, suddenly lashed out against the Soviet aggressors. Was he wrong before, right now? Or vice versa?

What ought a Christian to do about living under totalitarianism? Christians of the West were largely unprepared for this question in the events before, during, and after World War II. Should they simply follow Romans 13 and accept any government unconditionally? If not, where would they draw the line? At what point—if ever—does a government so violate Christian principles that resistance becomes obligatory?

A theology of resistance is not something abstract and impractical; it is related to life-and-death issues in many parts of the world. In this discussion we will explore a few possible avenues, seeking to provide a framework for intelligent, biblical decision-making.

The Christian begins by asserting that the state is necessary for order in society. God ordained it for man’s well-being and protection. But the question is, Can a Christian place himself unconditionally at the disposal of the state?

Definitely not, according to Emil Brunner and many others. Brunner says that “an unqualified justification of the state … is impossible from the point of view of the Christian faith” (The Divine Imperative). Because states tend toward absolutism, he says, the Christian must meet the sovereign claims of the state “with the classic words of the Apostle, ‘We must obey God rather than man.’ ”

So, according to this view, the Christian must protest every form of state totalitarianism. The state’s autonomy does not free it from doing the will of God.

Can we then state categorically that a Christian has the right to resist when the state is perverted? Does responsibility to government cease when it fails to establish law and justice? Can a state actually cease being “A minister of God” (Rom. 13)?

Walter Kunneth, among others, holds that one cannot objectively assert the right to resist based on one’s displeasure at a corrupt state. After all, look at the state as it existed in the Apostle Paul’s time. The Roman state was absolutist, yet obedience was demanded of Christians because even a perverted government was better than anarchy.

Following another line, some have thought to build the right to resist on the universal rights of man as man. This idea, of course, clashes with the idea of the creation of authority for the purpose of preservation. It could be argued that a perverted government has a stronger potential for preserving order than the appeal to human rights.

Another problem is that if one falls back on so-called natural law to justify resistance, he can use the same reasons to forbid rebellion. “Commonweal” is at best ambiguous when it comes to substantiating any right to resist. Perhaps that is why Count Stauffenberg, the German Roman Catholic officer who tried to assassinate Hitler, found no encouragement from his own church.

Neither utilitarian considerations nor rational judgments give a clear answer to the problem. Biblically, another road to take is to limit one’s obedience to the state by evaluating the state’s commands in relation to one’s duty to God. The early Church invariably asked whether the commands of the state were contrary to the clear will and command of God. Commands that infringe on faith were rejected. This disobedience did not question the authority of the state as such but rather insisted that the state’s authority was limited.

It is important to keep in mind, however, that the New Testament only describes specific incidents or collisions. Refusal to obey the state seems to come from incident to incident and cannot be ascribed to a casuistic code. For example, when Paul was struck by order of the high priest, he deferred to apostate authority. The high priest’s office had to be respected, irrespective of the wrong use of that office (Acts 23). There is no indication of permanent disobedience, with resistance as the guiding principle.

One might say that the Christian life is to be lived in a tension between loyalty to God and loyalty to the state. The Christian’s loyalty may consist at times in resisting a perverted and unjust order.

If this is in fact true, how far can one follow this route? How can the individual claim to hear God’s command clearly? He may lack political insight and judgment; he may not have access to all the facts, either at home or abroad, needed to make a decision. Further, can the individual trust himself to be right over against the majority opinion or against the view of tradition?

In the face of such difficulties, the only solution comes from God’s revelation, which deals with a personal God who relates to individuals on a personal basis. Christians therefore act not so much in response to abstract principles as in response to the Spirit of God, and in harmony with the written Word of God. Any attempt to systematize the answer by subtle moral reasonings must be rejected because of the danger of both legalism and impersonal orthodoxy.

But is it really satisfactory and safe to trust personal decision-making instead of relying on the norms of tradition, for instance? Both are subject to human error. History shows us that, on the one hand, tradition cannot be trusted, and that, on the other, great reforms have been sparked by individual initiative.

Another factor is the element of human guilt, especially when one decides to resist an unjust political order. Consider the deep personal anguish involved in trying to decide whether or not to use force against a totalitarian government.

A confrontation with despotism may bring a greater awareness of the far-reaching implications arising from resistance. In surveying the available material on the German resistance movement, one is impressed by the careful deliberations and scrutiny of every possible factor. The Christians must have asked themselves again and again whether they might be contending against God when they took part in resistance. On the other hand, they must have felt that submission to the perverted order would ultimately affect their concept of God. The question of human guilt needs to be examined in this context, for the people involved in overthrowing an unjust order will certainly face it, especially when force is used.

Even if there is no question of guilt, questions of conscience are sure to arise from the uncertainty about the outcome and consequences of resistance. However, one cannot base ethical directives on whether the resistance succeeds or fails. As Kunneth says, “every decision of resistance stands in need of God’s forgiveness.”

No hasty assertion that “It’s God’s will,” no good conscience, can of itself make an action sinless. What is needed is the assurance that there is forgiveness in extremity even for a sinful and bloodstained political act. This is not to treat sin lightly but to realize that in most of our deeds, no matter how sincere and noble, there remains mixed the possibility of human sin.

We conclude, then, that only the possibility of remission of sins is the final ethical and theological answer to the moral problems of resistance. Given that, however, there are still some safeguards against pure arbitrariness in the highly personalized acts of resistance. Kunneth lists the following (Politik zwischen Daemon und Gott, Eine Ethik des Politischen, Berlin, 1954, pp. 308–13):

First, only certain persons are called upon to perform acts of special resistance, and then only in extreme danger because such acts affect the whole order of government and the people’s existence. Kunneth is perhaps thinking of the history of German resistance, where it would have been irresponsible for anyone from the rank and file to kill Hitler.

Second, there needs to be forethought and planning about what to do after the leader is removed. In the case of German resistance, there were those in responsible state positions who had proved themselves and who shared the responsibility, and who were the “logical” people to engage in resistance.

Third, individual citizens may be exempt from the obligation to act on behalf of the people. Those select few who, according to Kunneth, could be called on to use force should do so only after all parliamentary avenues of bringing about a change have been exhausted. Even then, the individual’s right and mission of resistance should be backed by the conscience and support of a group. For a politically improved order is possible only through like-minded persons. This group element is an important check against a dangerous subjectivism, inherent in every personal action.

Helmut Thielicke, who lived and preached in Hamburg through the Nazi era, offers an alternative to forceful, direct resistance. When the state depersonalizes man and degrades him to a mere functionary, Thielicke says a “confession” is required of Christians (Die Evangelische Kirche und die Politik, Stuttgart, 1953, p. 68). Those who make this confession must be willing to back it up by life or by death. This would include the preaching of judgment and not mere morality. He follows Luther in saying that the state must be called back to its God-given place.

Thielicke uses the word Unterwandrung to describe what he means, and the Apostle Paul’s treatment of slavery as an example. “Our task is not to change the orders of the present aeon, but to speak to men as responsible beings,” says Thielicke. Therefore, the reason Paul didn’t attack slavery was that it would have been an endless task. It would have led away from Christ to a concentration upon the order of society. But by sending Onesimus back as a Christian brother to Philemon, Paul in effect breaks the old order of slave-master from within. This is the meaning of Unterwandrung. The change in the individual will be reflected upon the order.

For Thielicke, Unterwandrung involves making indirect inroads, which he accepts as an alternative to direct political action. He supports this by citing the feminine image applied to the Church. Just as the God-given talent for woman is to exert indirect influence on her husband and the world, so as the Church accepts its God-given place and identifies itself as a divine institution, it stands above the times and yet serves man who stands in time. As such, it has the promise that the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.

Perhaps Thielicke’s proposals are not the answer; their inclusion here is not meant to imply that non-violent resistance is to be preferred. However, it is possible that this strategy could show us the way toward a transforming potential that has proven effective. Perhaps against totalitarianism, Unterwandrung wouldn’t work; but the New Testament certainly shows the dynamic possibilities for changing a perverted order from within.

To sum up:

1. Studies on resistance reflect trends away from a static dogmatism as a guide to action toward a more dynamic interpretation in which personal decisions are made in response to God’s call. This is a healthy development. Instead of seeing resistance anchored in either the first article of the Apostles’ Creed or in the order of creation with fixed laws, there seems to be a certain validity in anchoring it firmly to the second and third articles, and thus relating even resistance to the redemptive act of Christ.
2. Obedience to a given authority is no longer considered an absolute. This brings resistance into focus as a practical and live option.
3. It is necessary to scrutinize human acts and apply necessary criteria to guard them against subjective misjudgment.
4. The Church’s image is undergoing a radical transformation. The world seems tired of the system, but there is great interest in the dynamic life qualities concentrated in Jesus Christ and his new life. While the Church used to be looked upon as an institution that would rather suffer injustice than commit it, in this century the Church has had a vital part in resistance. Many Christians have resisted at the cost of their lives and are revered for it.

1. Extreme caution is the word for evaluating forms of resistance, say between the indirect Unterwandrung and direct political action. I am personally convinced that nonviolence with Christian motivations is by far the most effective, with long-range redemptive features, but I am prepared to allow that there may be times when God directs people to use violence, especially where totalitarian governments are involved.

Had the attempt to remove Hitler succeeded, the necessary personnel structure was already prepared to assume the functions of state. In consequence, much misery and suffering would have been averted.

Herbert R. Dymale is associate professor of religion at Malone college, Canton, Ohio. He was born in Poland of German parents and during World war II served in the German air force. He was taken prisoner of war during the Normandy invasion and was brought to the United States. After his release, he returned to Germany an began his seminary training, which he concluded in the United States. He holds teh Th.M. from Princeton Seminary and the Ph.D. from the State University of Iowa.

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