Benedict XVI: A Life

By Peter Seewald

(Droemer Verlag, Munich 2020)

(This review is of the German original. All quotations are my own translations. Ignatius Press has published in 2020 the first volume of an English translation – SC)

We are fortunate that Pope Benedict XVI is with us still. Indeed, even though by now he has been “Pope Emeritus”  longer than “Pope” we have heard much from him on several fronts just in the last year or so:  his journey to the side of his dying brother in Germany, his dramatic book written with Cardinal Sarah. Last year appeared Benedict XVI: a Life, a quasi-authorized biography by Peter Seewald including new interviews with Benedict. How premature then was the title given to the English language edition of Peter Seewald’s last (2016) book of interviews with the Pope Emeritus: Last Testament!

I confess that I have never been a fan of Peter Seewald’s work. For starters, his style is excessively colloquial, even coarse at times, and studded with English borrowings  and outlandish  formulations:  (“the psychedelic sound of Gregorian chant”; Spindoktor (sic – referring to Ratzinger’s role vis-à-vis Cardinal Frings!)). Seewald easily falls into hyperbole:

“There are moments of world history in which time positively stands still. The (rotation of the) earth around its axis stops.” (referring to the day of Pope Benedict’s resignation)

In other passages, however, he serves up undigested academic or theological jargon. And everywhere he bombards the reader with an endless series of facts. It seems nothing can be mentioned without an explanatory parenthetical, clause or sentence. The longer digressions can be massive, covering every conceivable subject connected, however remotely, with Joseph Ratzinger. I could easily see this book abridged by at least 25% without doing any harm to the narrative.

But more problematic than his style is the inadequate historical context for Ratzinger’s life. Peter Seewald seems to derive most of his historical knowledge from German magazines and newspapers – nowadays a decidedly myopic perspective. As a result, the author’s endless historical digressions generally offer just platitudes and commonplaces, not real insights. As an example of Seewald’s historical judgment, again and again the significance of an author or his book is demonstrated to his satisfaction by the number of copies sold.

 But that’s not the only media-related problem in this book. Seewald’s declared purpose is to defend Joseph Ratzinger against a negative image of him created by the media (“prejudices, underhandedness and even outright disinformation”). Seewald takes up the cause of the Roman Catholic Church as well. Yet, by assuming the role of defense attorney, isn’t Seewald allowing these same media enemies of Ratzinger and the Church to lay down the “rules of the game”? For example, in the poisonous German media culture it may be a laudable undertaking to demonstrate that Benedict – and the Catholic Church – are not Nazis.  I submit that structuring an apologia around demolishing such absurd claims contributes little to our understanding of the role of either Pope Benedict or the Church.

All too numerous are the errors of fact and questionable assertions. Did rock n’ roll fascinate Germans five years after the end of World War II (before it even was invented in the US)? Does Nono el mondo mean “grandfather of the world” in Italian? At the ordination of Ratzinger did Cardinal Faulhaber process into the church to the motet Exicocaelibus magnus? During the war, when Joseph Ratzinger served as a Luftwaffe auxiliary, did he and his unit directly operate a Freya radar (“developed by Konrad Zuse”?)? Did Bishop Richard Williamson’s father die in the concentration camp Sonnenburg in 1944, after helping Jews escape from the Nazis (just like Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre’s father did)? “In the two thousand years of Christianity no really ruling successor of St. Peter had had the courage to take this step.” (referring to Benedict’s resignation) Such things do not inspire confidence in an author.

Yet Seewald’s lengthy narrative does keep moving – often with the aid of (sometimes artificial) cliffhangers. Seewald may be deficient in judgment, but here and there Benedict XVI: A Life does offer startling anecdotes and revealing comments. And if his overall tone is adulatory, Seewald doesn’t avoid some of the more problematic aspects of Benedict’s career. Seewald obviously can’t follow all of his hero’s opinions – even those restated in this book (such as Benedict’s still rosy assessment of the Second Vatican Council). And Seewald can be informative even when he goes off track. For example, he reminds us of John Allen’s initial hostile account of Cardinal Ratzinger – and how it changed when the cardinal became pope. The descriptions of towns, schools and landscapes connected to Joseph Ratzinger’s early life can be evocative. Seewald’s detailed account of the coordinated media campaign against Pope Benedict is important reading,  describing a trial run of the tactics employed by the civil establishment in the subsequent, infinitely more massive assault on President Trump.

Finally, what alternatives to Seewald does Benedict really have for a German-language biographer/dialogue partner/ publicist? Certainly the overwhelming majority of “serious” writers on religion in the German press and academia are either inveterate enemies of Benedict or unreadable – and very often both. But so much for our author – what of the story of Pope Benedict that he tells? In an account spanning some 90 years, I can only pick out a few topics that hopefully would interest the readers of a Traditionalist blog.

Ratzinger’s childhood inspires some of the best pages in the book. Born early on Holy Saturday, (as Seewald notes, at that time the Holy Saturday liturgy took place in the morning) the young child would seems destined to a spiritual career. The first residence of the Ratzinger family, as described by Seewald, seems like a fairy tale of faith and traditional German Catholic culture despite (or partially because of?) the economic constraints of that time. The young Joseph Ratzinger was introduced at an early age to prayer – but also beautiful music, splendid liturgies and glorious nature. It seems that Joseph Ratzinger’s simple, severe and devout policeman father was the greatest influence on him. – “his teacher, his spiritual master, his literary mentor.” 

From my own experiences I could sympathize with Joseph Ratzinger when he later entered a Catholic “high school”  (we would say) where, as seems universal in such Catholic institutions, sports were heavily emphasized. Like me, Ratzinger was totally incapable in this field, but he was able to manage his way through it all more sucessfully than I.

After the war, Joseph Ratzinger entered the seminary with his brother, and later attended the university in Munich. According to Seewald, the nascent West German state represented  the very essence of Catholic social doctrine. Yet despite this purported early influence, the Church soon encountered problems in the postwar world the origin of which Seewald does not explain. Increasingly, members of the theological faculty have problems with “Rome.”  The local population, even in supposedly Catholic Bavaria, was not necessarily receptive to Christianity. At this early stage Ratzinger began to gravitate towards the liberal wing of the church. Curiously, however, he at first rejected the liturgical movement – but later grew comfortable with it. 

Early on Ratzinger had also settled on becoming an academic. He had, however, an almost career-ending conflict with a certain Professor Schmaus when the latter rejected his Habilitation book (in Germany a necessary step to obtain a teaching position at a university). Naturally Seewald calls Schmaus a “bigwig,” vain, easily taking offense – and, of course, previously friendly to Nazis. This incident also features prominently in Seewald/Ratzinger’s Last Conversations(aka Last Testament), but here we learn that Schmaus’s  opposition to Ratzinger was far more fundamental and militant than I had supposed from that account – Schmaus held the young theologian to be a nebulous modernist. Through skillful tactics Ratzinger worked around this obstacle and in 1958 he received his first professorship. 

From this beginning Ratzinger steadily rose to prominence among German theologians – and he was reckoned to the progressive wing. In an early essay,, he speculated on the salvation of all kind and helpful people, and, according to Seewald at least, by 1959 he sported a “black suit and a black tie.”   Commenting on this era,  Ratzinger makes the claim – startling in view of his later experiences – that “I always was very much interested in politics.”  

Ratzinger of course eventually became one of the main spokesmen and leaders of the progressives at the Second Vatican Council. Yet I still don’t get a good sense from reading this book what his specific objectives actually were.  He is quoted as endorsing such such vague but sweeping propositions as repudiating the “armor” of scholastic theology and advocating that the Faith must find “a new language and a new openness.”

Seewald can’t help but label the Conciliar enthusiasm of the early 60’s as “naïve,” specifically referring to Ratzinger’s liturgical expectations of that time. Indeed, Seewald cites sources – including, I may add, many of my own favorites – who profoundly dissented, if for different reasons, from the Conciliar euphoria, men like Alfred Lorenzer and Hubert Jedin. Pope Benedict himself is untroubled by any second thoughts about the Council. Going forward, defending what he viewed as the true legacy of the Council against the post-Conciliar “Council of the media” became his mission. Almost immediately, therefore, the Second Vatican Council – the opening to the World, the saving reconciliation with modernity – had become just one more non-intuitive set of dogmas that required endless further defense and interpretation (or hermeneutics)

As the Council ended, Ratzinger took up a new position at the University of Tübingen. There he taught side-by-side with Hans Küng – which is likely why he transferred there in the first place. It seems that gradually Ratzinger’s views began diverging more and more from the those of majority of the intellectual leadership of the German Church. As described by Ratzinger,  this was the natural development of his growing understanding of his colleagues’ theology and objectives. Why Ratzinger did not discern these problems with Küng, Rahner etc. earlier is not addressed in this book. The relationship with Küng eventually deteriorated into outright enmity – at least on Küng’s part. Throughout the rest of Seewald’s book, Küng has the role of a recurring demonic figure and hostile commentator on Ratzinger’s career.

In 1968 Ratzinger moved again from Tübingen, dominated by Küng, to the more congenial surroundings of the University of Regensburg in his homeland of Bavaria. By this time the deficiencies of the Conciliar regime were manifest. As Seewald reports, only two years after the conclusion of the Council the percentage of Catholics regularly attending Mass in Germany was plummeting.  Conversely, by 1970 the number of those exiting the Church in Germany had skyrocketed. At this time Ratzinger began to be considered the “theological savior” of Germany by the conservative remnants of the Church.

In 1977, Ratzinger was appointed to the prestigious see of Munich. Aside from a very brief curacy in the early 1950’s, it was his first pastoral experience. In this role Ratzinger does not seem to have distinguished himself from the rest of his bureaucratic and/or progressive colleagues in the “German Catholic Church.”  We read, for example, how he facilitated a typical progressive stunt of setting up a child speaker to publicly challenge John Paul II on a papal visit to Germany. And then there was Ratzinger’s patronage of the controversial lay “movement” Katholische Integrierte Gemeinde. To some extent Ratzinger retained his connection to this group even after he had become Pope. By 2019 the KIG had collapsed in scandal.

 In 1981 Ratzinger was named prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith in Rome. For the next 24 years Ratzinger exercised this office. He assumed the role of the “bad cop” for John Paul II and earned the opprobrium of much of the world media as a result. He was a loyal subordinate even when he disagreed with the Pope’s actions. Ratzinger did express reservations, for example, regarding the mammoth spectacles John Paul II loved. And he at first refused to participate in the ecumenical Assisi event. But nothing came of this – and Ratzinger of course later attended later Assisi meetings himself.

There are also early indications of Ratzinger’s limitations as a leader. Seewald reports that he really never developed effective relationships or networks within the Vatican bureaucracy – despite all the years he served there. A specific incident illustrates some of Ratzinger’s difficulties – the one event described in this book which I personally witnessed. The Vatican had issued in 1986 a letter on “The Pastoral Care of Homosexual Persons,”  essentially reiterating Catholic doctrine. Shortly thereafter, Cardinal Ratzinger gave an address in the Lutheran church of St. Peter in New York. Seewald describes how a crowd of homosexuals in the audience attempted to shout down Ratzinger. What Seewald doesn’t mention, however, was that Ratzinger’s presentation was entirely devoted to questions of Biblical exegesis, in connection with a closed-door conference on this subject he was holding shortly thereafter.  Even though the homosexual issue was dominating the media, Ratzinger apparently hoped to just ignore it in his address. His uninspiring appearance and delivery only stirred up the demonstrators all the more. And the “40 policemen” that Seewald mentions only deigned to intervene after the address had been thoroughly disrupted. 

And of course in 2005 Joseph Ratzinger ascended the papal throne as Benedict XVI. For the next 8 years he was to lead the Church through crises caused by all the things which had been swept under the rug in previous papacies. Seewald (and Benedict XVI?), however, seem to regard the main challenge of  Benedict’s papacy as maintaining a good relationship with the press – primarily that of Germany. The subject is nearly obsessive. Seewald even attributes to the media attacks over Bishop Williamson the beginning of the end of Ratzinger’s’ pontificate.  But obviously much more than inadequate public relations work was at fault in Benedict’s papacy. The man who could set a new liturgical course with Summorum Pontificum and at least start to sanction some of the worst, previously untouchable,  abusers was otherwise incapable of transforming his ideas into practice. That would have required well-planned, detailed implementation,  finding and promoting competent and loyal supporters, confronting opposition directly, and ceaseless personal advocacy. 

Seewald recites revealing examples of Benedict’s problematic style as ruler. Pope Benedict arranged for Archbishop Vigano to be sent as nuncio to the U.S – a step down in status –  after the Archbishop had clashed with Cardinal Bertone. Of course that wasn’t a punishment, the Pope Emeritus assures us, for Vigano’s zealous activity in attempting into bring order into Vatican’s  financial affairs. “Although Vigano certainly was right in many things be created a climate of general suspicion of all against all, so he couldn’t stay.” – so Benedict.  Ettore Gatti Tedeschi, another would-be financial reformer, met an even worse fate: summary dismissal amid uncorroborated accusations – once again, after running afoul of  Bertone. A year afterwards, in a characteristic gesture, Pope Benedict declared his continued trust in Tedeschi –  but refused to reinstate him. We have subsequently seen the effects of this laxity in the oversight of the Vatican finances,

Then, there was the strange business of Ingrid Stampa, a former  housekeeper of Ratzinger who had inserted herself in the papal  palace. She obtained the keys to the papal apartments and often showed up unannounced in his office. As described by Seewald, she was adept at manipulating Pope Benedict, when necessary with hysterical displays and fits of rage. She assumed more and more authority,  blocked the advancement of rivals in the curia and even had a favorite of hers made Cardinal. Apparently she had to hand back her keys to the papal apartment only after the explosion of the “Vatileaks” affair.

Perhaps we should say something here about the topic of this book that should be of the greatest interest to Traditionalists. Amazingly, Seewald writes very little about Ratzinger’s liturgical principles, the Traditional Mass and Summorum Pontificum. That’s because our author has no sympathy for the subject  – he calls Archbishop Lefebvre an “apostate” (abtrünnig). I have mentioned, however,  the late adherence of Ratzinger to the liturgical movement. As a professor in Regensburg,  Ratzinger was horrified by the introduction of the Novus Ordo. Such a thing had never been done in the entire history of the Church! – lamented Ratzinger. “It did us extraordinary damage. For now the impression formed that the liturgy was not preexisting and given, but something ‘made.’ ”

Of course, years later, as Pope, Ratzinger did do something about it by issuing Summorum Pontificum. Seewald comments in his inimitable style that: “no measurable changes in the liturgical framework of the Church were produced by Summorum Pontificum – much less developing into a mass movement. Benedict’s readmittance (to the Church) of the ‘Old Mass’ basically corresponded to the trend to rely on ‘Classico” and “Traditionale” after adulterated wine, poisonous foodstuffs and the fast food madness.”

But others felt and continue to feel differently. As Seewald himself writes: “Cardinal Koch even considers (Summorum Pontificum) the most important decision of all of this pontificate. With it, something enduring had been created, which the 80-year old pope had pushed through against all resistance. And he did this simply because for decades he had held this rectification for right and necessary.” Indeed, it was Benedict’s one success in legislating, implementing and defending a major change in the life of the Church. A change that, contrary to Seewald’s perspective, has indeed generated its own movement throughout the world. 

But then Pope Benedict resigned. Of cause the reasons for this  incredible step are not explicitly articulated in this book. The following extraordinary “reign” of Benedict as  “pope emeritus” – which by now exceeds the time of his own papacy – also receives, perhaps unsurprisingly, scant coverage.  Pope Benedict, ever the man of the establishment, is quoted as supporting and admiring his successor (as he has already stated in previous books).  I don’t think many people are convinced by that.

So, in 2019 when Bergoglio had set off another crisis – the threatened introduction of married priests, female deacons and even female priests, Cardinal Sarah and Ratzinger collaborated on a book defending Catholic Tradition in these issues. I am sure that this – combined with other, behind-the-scenes activity – helped put the brakes on the drive for change to the priesthood. Yet, in a typical foolish spectacle, after the anger of the Bergoglian faction exploded, Pope Benedict withdrew his name from the book (as co-author)  – even though he did not withdraw his contribution. It is quintessential Benedict, as described again and again in this book – the inability to confront opposition resulting, at least in appearance, in an apologetic compromise. 

So Seewald leaves us with the impression of a man of intelligence, spiritual insight, scholarly attainments, artistic sensitivity and having the best of wishes for the Church. But reverence for the institution and the lack of leadership skills often negated his gifts and virtues, ultimately leading to a disastrous decision that plunged the Church once again into the very moral and institutional chaos from which Benedict had striven to rescue her.  

But of course, as Seewald himself argues elsewhere on other issues,  Benedict’s character was not the main cause of his papacy’s difficulties. I have already alluded to some of some of these objective underlying problems of strategy and tactics.  But the fundamental issue with the Church between 1977 and 2013  – the period when Joseph Ratzinger was Archbishop, Cardinal, and Pope –  was the inherently contradictory nature of both the legacy of the Vatican Council and the Church’s clerical culture. Apocalyptic hopes and conformism; yearning for a leader in the format of the secular figures of the last century yet anxiously avoiding conflict (and the appearance of conflict) within the Church and with the world; dreams of great transformations combined with bureaucratic complacency – really, I don’t think anyone could have pulled it off.