Epilogue
When an armed force ruled well-nigh omnipotent, and morality was at its lowest ebb, Pius XII commanded none of the former and could only appeal to the latter, in confronting, with bare hands, the full might of evil.
A sounding protest, which might turn out to be self-thwarting — or quiet piecemeal rescue? Loud words — or prudent deeds? The dilemma must have been sheer agony, for whatever course he chose, horrible consequences were inevitable. Unable to cure the sickness of an entire civilization, and unwilling to bear the brunt of Hitler's fury, the Pope, unlike many far mightier than he, alleviated, relieved, retrieved, appealed, petitioned and saved as best he could by his own lights.
Who, but a prophet or a martyr could have done much more?...
The Talmud teaches us that "whosoever preserves one life, it is accounted to him by Scripture as if he had preserved a whole world."
If this is true — and it is as true as that most Jewish of tenets, the sanctity of human life — then Pius XII deserves that forest in the Judean hills which kindly people in Israel proposed for him in October, 1958. A memorial forest, like those planted for Winston Churchill, King Peter of Yugoslavia and Count Bernadotte of Sweden with — 860,000 trees.