Despite its somewhat overwrought title, Hubert Wolf's examination of Vatican assessments of interwar Germany brings together careful documentary research and thoughtful analysis to produce an effective counterbalance to recent sensationalized depictions—both accusatory and apologetic—of the activities of Pope Pius XI and Eugenio Pacelli (the future Pius XII). Appearing in English in an excellent translation by Kenneth Kronenberg, Wolf's book was initially published in German in 2008 and garnered significant attention for its use of a trove of recently opened Vatican archival materials. While it is still uncertain when the Vatican will authorize unrestricted access to the full scope of files pertaining to the controversial pontificate of Pius XII, during which World War II and the Holocaust unfolded, in early 2006 Pope Benedict XVI opened to scholars the holdings of the Vatican Secret Archives for the entire period of Pius XI's pontificate (1922–1939). As one of the first to engage substantively with this newly released material, Wolf is able to present the most nuanced and detailed account to date of key aspects of the Vatican's engagement with Germany before World War II.

Wolf picks up the archival paper trail during Eugenio Pacelli's time as papal nuncio in Germany between 1917 and 1929. After sketching the basic contours of Pacelli's background and diplomatic training, Wolf proceeds to examine his involvement in the unsuccessful papal peace plan of 1917, which Wolf describes as a “fiasco” (p. 43) that predisposed Pacelli against any such open engagement in the future, laying the groundwork for his later pursuit of strict Vatican neutrality. Pacelli's reports from Germany in the 1920s reveal, not surprisingly, a thorough distaste for “modern” German fashion, an abiding fascination with German technological expertise, and a deep suspicion of German bishops who in any way ran counter to his own stringent vision of centralized Roman authority. Ultimately, the documents paint the picture of a prelate who viewed his time in Germany as little more than a temporary way station in his Roman-based ecclesiastical career, although certain of his German experiences—particularly the failure of the 1917 peace plan and the lingering memory of the Kulturkampf—did continue to shape Pacelli's thinking.

Wolf's most notable contributions emerge in his use of new documentary evidence to reevaluate key episodes in the pontificate of Pius XI. Historians have often made note of the March 1928 Vatican condemnation of antisemitism, but a thorough examination of the context within which it was issued was not possible until the recent release of Vatican documents. As Wolf demonstrates with nuance and verve, the statement emerged as the result of an internal struggle over the reform of one of the Good Friday prayers, which demeaned the Jews by labeling them as “perfidious.” The call for reform was initiated by a group of priests, including several influential bishops, that had been founded in 1926 and took the name Amici Israel (Friends of Israel). Rather than merely praying quietly for the conversion of the Jews, the group pushed for a more sweeping Catholic-Jewish reconciliation and appealed for the abolition of offensive statements in the Good Friday prayer. After initial support from the Congregation of Rites, their appeal went before the successor to the Inquisition, the Holy Office, which not only rejected the call for reform, firmly maintaining the reference to “perfidious” Jews, but went further to dissolve Amici Israel itself and to demand full retractions from the appeal's initial supporters within the Congregation of Rites. The March 1928 condemnation of antisemitism was then issued as an almost grudging rearguard action that attempted to paper over the suppression of Amici Israel and its call for reform. Wolf argues convincingly that Pius XI, in supporting the Holy Office, was anything but a courageous defender of the Jews; rather, he “wasted his big chance” to make a principled stand (p. 121).

In his subsequent evaluation of the 1933 Concordat negotiations, Wolf offers an equally powerful corrective to established narratives, albeit this time in terms much more favorable to Pius XI and Pacelli. Arguing against Klaus Scholder and others who have asserted that Pacelli urged the German bishops to lift their prohibition on Catholics joining the Nazi Party and pressured the Center Party to support Hitler's Enabling Act, Wolf demonstrates from the documentary evidence that Pacelli almost certainly did not exert that kind of pressure and that he was, in fact, surprised when the bishops and Center Party leaders acted largely on their own. Wolf deserves credit for cobbling together a convincing case for that significant finding. Equally effective is Wolf's treatment, in two final chapters, of Vatican responses to Nazi ideology between 1933 and 1939. Documenting the numerous appeals received by the Vatican that urged Pius XI to speak out forcefully against the Nazi persecution of the Jews, including a now-famous 1933 appeal from Edith Stein, Wolf traces the process whereby the obsession with maintaining papal neutrality ultimately foreclosed on any possibility of clear and decisive leadership from Rome. Church authorities were willing on occasion to condemn Nazi ideas that provided them with easy targets—such as the unmistakably anti-Christian ruminations of Alfred Rosenberg—but found it much harder to take a clear stand against Hitler, as head of state, or in defense of the Jews. It may be worth noting that the book's title is taken from a statement by Pius XI about having the “courage to deal even with the devil himself” (in the form of dangerous ideologies, including Nazism) if it would help save souls. Wolf's meticulous research goes a long way toward illuminating the internal context and specific nature of that willingness to “deal”; whether that willingness should be described as courageous or in less flattering terms remains open to the reader.

A critic could argue that Wolf's study suffers from excessive focus on documents as characters in their own right, often making ink and paper into the real protagonists of his story. Historians could also rightfully criticize the book for its lack of sustained historiographical analysis; it is clear that Wolf is more than well-versed in the literature, but his analysis of it emerges only piecemeal as he proceeds through the documentary paper trail. Ultimately, though, the book achieves the difficult task of remaining eminently readable while combining detailed documentation and judicious, balanced reflection. As such it deserves a wide readership.