D-Day 2004: French-German Reconciliation

By Thomas E. Ambrogi

My wife and I were in France last month during the 60th memorial of the D-Day landings in Normandy on June 6, 1944. On the high bluff above Omaha Beach, scene of the bloodiest battle of all, we laid flowers on a grave in the American cemetery, where 10,000 American soldiers lie under perfect rows of brilliant white crosses and Stars of David, silently whispering their call of “Never Again” to all who would come and listen.

On June 6th itself, dignitaries from around the world gathered in the Peace Memorial at Caen, farther up the Normandy coast. It was the first time that the Germans had ever been invited here. An exchange between Gerhard Schroeder, the chancellor of Germany, and Jacques Chirac, the president of France, was for me the most memorable and moving event of those remarkable few days.

Standing at President Chirac's side, Chancellor Schroeder spoke first.

“Today, 60 years ago, Caen and Normandy were the scene of endless suffering and tens of thousands of victims. But they were also the place of military courage to free Europe.  France's memories of June 6, 1944 are different from Germany's.  But they all end in a common conviction:  We want peace . . .

“No one will ever forget the 12 years of Hitler's rule. My generation grew up in its shadow. [Schroeder was himself too young to serve in Hitler's army.] My family only found the grave of my father, who fell in Romania, four years ago.  I never had the chance to get to know my father.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is not the old Germany of those dark years that I represent here. My country has found its way back into the circle of civilized communities. It was a long path to a successful and stable democracy . . .

“We want a united, peaceful Europe that takes its responsibility for peace and justice on its own continent and in the world seriously. . . Those who 60 years ago were robbed of this happier life, deserve our remembrance, our deepest respect. Your death was not in vain. We live in peace and freedom.”

“We want a united, peaceful Europe that takes its responsibility for peace and justice on its own continent and in the world seriously. That is our hope . . . What on June 6, 1944 seemed impossible, became true, because the people of both our countries wanted it so . . . Those who 60 years ago were robbed of this happier life, deserve our remembrance, our deepest respect. Your death was not in vain. We live in peace and freedom. And for that we thank you. Our promise is: we shall not forget the victims.”

Deeply moved, President Chirac then responded:

“Sixty years have passed, Chancellor Schroeder, but neither you nor I have forgotten any of these hours when the essentials of the destiny of Europe and of the world were played out. You are there today. You represent Germany and the German people. It is a moment of very great emotion . . .

“Your presence here gives witness, once again, to the long and patient work of reconciliation. A fruitful work which the leaders of our two countries undertook immediately after the war, building on their past commitments, and with the aura which history had conferred upon them.. . .

“You take upon yourself the memory of Germany. You incarnate it in a new springtime. You were born when hope was being reborn. You belong to this generation born in the ruins, which has affirmed itself in its will to construct a new country, a model democracy, in fidelity to the universal values of liberty and the rights of all . . .

“Our ceremony today gives witness before the world that there is no conflict, however profound and painful, which cannot leave room one day for dialogue and understanding. To those who confront one another in the endless night of hatred and resentment, our reconciliation offers a genuine hope. Better still, it offers a choice. That of boldness, of courage, and of patience. There is always a possible path toward peace . . .

“Our conviction is that a strong Europe will contribute to the stability of the world and will give a new élan to transatlantic relationships. It is by its engagement in the service of peace and of solidarity that Europe will be faithful to the memory of all those who have fallen here in the name of liberty . . .

“The peace memorial, where we are reunited, reminds us that war is only destruction, suffering and tears. But war also teaches us the complete price of peace and reconciliation, of liberty and democracy. This peace and this reconciliation, this liberty and this democracy which you incarnate today, Mr. Chancellor, by your presence, here, in France, in this beautiful land of Normandy.

“On this day of remembrance and of hope, French women and French men receive you more than ever as a friend. They receive you as a brother.”

The Frenchman then reached out and gave the German a great bear-hug, to popping flash-bulbs and the ringing cheers and sustained applause of many nations represented. It was a class act. The calm and measured dignity of these two thoughtful leaders, with a gentle style that fitted so great an occasion, brought me close to tears. There was no playing to the balconies, just a brief and deeply sincere statement of commitment, in the name of each of their peoples, that there shall never again be war between France and Germany.

[A]s I heard these clear commitments for a new Europe of reconciliation and peace on the blood-drenched bluffs of Normandy, my spirit cried out with the psalmist, “This is the day which the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.”

The event was of truly historic importance, a spark of hope and possibility in an otherwise dark and desperate time. Watching it, I summoned up the ghosts of more than two centuries of battlefield upon battlefield: of Napoleon and his legions, of the Franco-Prussian War, of World War I, of World War II. And as I heard these clear commitments for a new Europe of reconciliation and peace on the blood-drenched bluffs of Normandy, my spirit cried out with the psalmist, “This is the day which the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.”

What does this extraordinary experience of reconciliation in Normandy have to teach us in this patriotic time? Above all, that we must begin to exorcise the violent demons of war and vengeance that have infected our experience of 9/11, and search for more peaceable and hope-filled options in order to come to spiritual renewal as a nation. William Sloane Coffin has recently reflected very creatively on our American response to the trauma of 9/11 ( The Nation , 1/12/04).

“The President, after all,” Coffin writes, “did not have to declare war. He could have called the terrorists mass murderers, their deeds crimes against humanity. He could have said to the American people and the world: ‘We will respond, but not in kind. We will not seek to avenge the death of innocent Americans by the death of innocent victims elsewhere, lest we become what we abhor. We refuse to ratchet up the cycle of violence that brings only ever more death, destruction and deprivation.

“‘What we will do is build coalitions with other nations. We will share intelligence, freeze assets and engage in forceful extraditions of terrorists if internationally sanctioned. As president, I promise to do all in my power to see justice done, but by the force of law only, never by the law of force.'”

Thomas Friedman echoed these sentiments in a recent New York Times column (6/30/04): “I don't want [the war on terrorism] to be all that America is about in the world anymore, and that is what has happened under this administration. I don't want the rest of my career to be about an America that exports fear, not hope, and ends up importing everyone else's fears as a result. . . Defeating ‘them' has begun to define ‘us' in too many ways.”

Here in the U.S., Independence Day this year for me was filled with an overwhelming yearning for the vision of peace and liberty which our foremothers and forefathers dreamed of when they spoke of America as a Shining City Set Upon a Hill. Let me conclude with the words which we heard from Jacques Chirac at Normandy:

There is no conflict, however profound and painful, which cannot leave room one day for dialogue and understanding. To those who confront one another in the endless night of hatred and resentment, our reconciliation offers a genuine hope. Better still, it offers a choice. That of boldness, of courage, and of patience. There is always a possible path toward peace.

Thomas E. Ambrogi is a theologian and human rights advocate who works with interfaith justice organizations and attends All Saints Church in Pasadena, Calif. A one-time Jesuit priest and university professor of theology and the applied social sciences, Tom now lives at Pilgrim Place, an ecumenical living center in Claremont, Calif. He may be reached by email at tambrogi@aol.com .