Summer in Europe brings tourists from all over the world, seeking to experience old-world charm and the beauty of centuries-old castles, fortresses, and rivers meandering through vineyards. Underneath the beauty lies a dark past that has left a deep impression on Europeans.
In June and July, I was working on editing a course that needed to be contextualized for Europe. That led me to think about how Europeans differ from other cultures. I also read a book and some articles on the crimes committed under the Nazi regime. That, in turn, reminded me of a book Rob and I read many years ago, by Stuart Miller, called Painted in Blood. Miller is an American with European parents, married to a European, and has spent much of his life in Europe. He writes, “We should look around us in their sunny plazas or on rainy-day museum afternoons, and beside all the uplifting beauty, or perhaps beneath it, see a continent painted in blood.” The castles, fortresses, statues of military figures on horseback that are so enchanting to tourists are all reminders of the horrors of war endured by Europeans throughout centuries of history.
For many Americans, war was the stuff of good action movies, filled with heroes and the camaraderie of soldiers fighting side by side and far from home. Older Europeans remember war more intimately and concretely. They know that war means you go cold and hungry; you are wounded, perhaps tortured. War means you lose your home and those who are dear to you. “The post-war generations carry the war in their blood,” Miller writes.
For many years, World War II was not talked about here in Austria. People tried to put their lives back together and put the war out of their minds. But Miller argues that the European character is shaped by war: “The background of collective violence, combined with other historical forces like memories of massive poverty, makes the European closed and defended…”
Just a few minutes away from where we live, the Maria Gugging Psychiatric Clinic operated as a notorious site for the systematic murder and abuse of mentally and physically disabled children and adults under the Nazi regime. Under Aktion T4, the doctors and staff reviewed patient files and marked individuals with disabilities for extermination. The program began with mentally disabled children under age 3, but later included older children, and even some who were considered juvenile delinquents. At least 780 people, including many children, were transferred from this nearby facility to Hartheim Castle and murdered in carbon monoxide gas chambers.
The director at Gugging classified more severely disabled children as “incapable of learning or development.” These children were transferred to Steinhof in Vienna. Nearly 800 children died there, poisoned with high doses of sedatives or intentionally starved to death. Parents were informed that their child had died of pneumonia or failure to thrive. In Austria and Germany, an estimated 200,000 children perished in the T4 program.
One of the prominent personalities who directed this mass killing of children was Dr. Heinrich Gross. Gross preserved the brains and organs of many murdered children in jars at Steinhof to use in his postwar research, which enhanced his career. After the war, he continued to enjoy a successful medical career for decades. The remains of these children were only retrieved from Steinhof and given a proper burial in 2002.
The past two decades have seen growing acknowledgement of the crimes committed here in Austria and increased attempts to restore property to families of victims. A yearly commemoration of the Holocaust now takes place at a prominent plaza in Vienna where Hitler once stood to annex Austria to the German Reich.
A dark history of a continent painted in blood over centuries of warfare has created a European mindset that tends to be more closed and defensive and intensely opposed to war. Typical European homes are surrounded by fences; many windows have metal jalousies. Succeeding generations have inherited unspoken patterns of mistrust and fear. Developing relationships takes longer in an Austrian context.
Thinking of a continent painted in blood, I was reminded of Cain and Abel. After Cain killed his brother, God said, “the voice of your brother’s blood is crying to me from the ground.” If God heard the voice of one man’s blood, how much more is he aware of the countless victims whose blood has been shed on European soil over the centuries. How much more does He grieve. How much more does the blood of Christ speak to us of the ultimate sacrifice of God’s Son—who shed his blood that we might live and that we might have hope that our bodies will be resurrected. How much more should our hearts be broken with the things that break the heart of God. May God give us understanding and grace to care for those people who sit in darkness in Europe, without this hope.
We thank God that He has rescued us from darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of light. We thank the Lord for the opportunity to share our hope in Christ with others as we serve God here in Austria. Join us in praying that Austria and Europe will embrace the cleansing blood of Christ and experience eternal life.
By Sandy Shaffer, Austria
