Frank Coppa has written a book on Pope Pius XII that introduces new concepts and contextualization into the story of the most controversial pope of the twentieth century. Coppa's treatment straddles the line between a political science narrative and theological examination. This is refreshing, since in many of the previous works on this pope, one of these elements usually has been highlighted to the detriment of the other. Coppa weaves a fascinating tale about the career of Eugenio Pacelli and the diplomatic concepts that would lead him to enact policies from 1939 to 1958 as Pope Pius XII. Coppa's analysis has ramifications for questions related to antisemitism and anti-Judaism, concordat diplomacy, and the intricate diplomatic concept of absolute impartiality. The Policies and Politics of Pope Pius XII is a valuable book because it clarifies previously confused diplomatic questions, while introducing the new concept of the Holy See's adoption of the technical wartime diplomatic construct of absolute impartiality as a salvific mechanism by which the prestige and power of the Vatican could remain active on the international plane.

One of the benefits of this book is its evenhandedness and balanced approach to a subject that has created great dispute and rallied opposing camps since 2000 in what has become known as “the Pius War.” Coppa's own research echoes the recent researches of scholars such as Hubert Wolf and Emma Fattorini who have worked extensively in the recently opened papers of Pope Pius XI. For these scholars, as well as Coppa, the relationship between the vociferous—and some would say prophetically confrontational—Pope Pius XI and his Secretary of State Cardinal Pacelli was much less ideologically seamless than previous accounts have led scholars to believe. Coppa seems to indicate that rather than challenge Pope Pius XI on his confrontational position regarding Nazism and Fascism, Pacelli stressed an approach of conciliation. Inwardly, Pacelli often disagreed with Pius XI, but suppressed expression of his variance. Coppa is torn as to whether this stance was due to Pacelli's duty-bound allegiance to the office of the papacy, or because he feared that by voicing his opinion, Pius XI might unceremoniously sack him for insubordination, as he did Pacelli's predecessor and good friend, Pietro Cardinal Gasparri. The release of Gasparri at the end of 1929 for alleged public insubordination chilled Pacelli into realizing that his job and career hung by a thread.

For Coppa, the sole architect of the Holy See's prized doctrine of impartiality was Gasparri. But this assessment calls for greater depth. Arguably, the doctrine of absolute impartiality was introduced into international relations by a Swiss diplomat and legal philosopher of the eighteenth century, Emmerich Vattel. The first Vatican Secretary of State to admire and implement Vattel's writings on neutral states in wartime was Ercole Cardinal Consalvi. Although it was a secular concept, Consalvi's esteem for absolute impartiality held sway into the pontificate of Pope Leo XIII, whose Secretary of State, Mariano Cardinal Rampolla, viewed absolute impartiality as a mechanism by which the Holy See could remain a player in international affairs, while remaining free from moral taint. While impartiality plays a central role in Coppa's thesis, there is little definition of the term. Coppa imputes construction of the doctrine to Gasparri when arguably its nineteenth-century architect was Rampolla, who merely followed the lead of European diplomats as they formulated the doctrine and enshrined it in the 1899 Hague Peace Conference proceedings. As Coppa has written elsewhere, Gasparri was the fervent disciple of Rampolla.

The Hague planners were aiming not just to tighten rules of neutrality in wartime, but also to create an entirely new category of diplomatic understanding. Up to 1899, legal concepts of wartime neutrality allowed for warring armies to use neutral countries for provisioning, stocking up arms, and the hospitalization of troops. At The Hague, these fringe benefits of neutrality were eradicated and absolute impartiality was born. Technically, absolute impartiality was a mechanism whereby neutrals might gain moral credibility in wartime. Although understudied as the first case of “silence,” even when pressured internationally, absolute impartiality steered the Vatican away from any public outcry against the abuses happening in the Congo Free State as late as 1908. In the sense that impartiality was diplomatically embedded in morality, Coppa's argument “between diplomacy and morality” might be better stated as an argument hanging between an increasingly outdated diplomacy and a newly colored morality.

This technical quibble aside, Coppa's book brings great elucidation to an increasingly complex historiography. This book will shape the contours of the debate around Pius XII mainly due to Coppa's introduction of the absolute impartiality question. Scholars immersed in the Holy See's Holocaust response will have to pay heed to Coppa's new angle. Coppa agrees that antisemitism and anti-Judaism did play a role, but was not deterministic in Pius XII's decision making on the Jews. Due to Pacelli's temperament and training, Coppa believes that the sanctity of Article 24 of the 1929 Lateran Accords, “in which the Holy See pledged to remain apart from temporal disputes between states,” held greater sway upon his decision making.

In terms of readability, the editors should have picked up that some sentences and concepts are repeated, often verbatim, at different points in the same chapter. The final chapters of this stimulating study recap the historiographical debate and provide groundwork for forward progress in assessing the Cold War legacy of Pope Pius XII.