This article was originally published in the Evangelization & Culture blog, at Word on Fire.
An Unlikely Tale
On February 7, 2014, another World War II era movie hit the box office. However, despite an intriguing plot and a generous cast of talented actors, the film received mediocre reviews. In fact, it seemingly faded into oblivion shortly after leaving the theaters. It wasn’t until I stumbled across “The Monuments Men” on a streaming platform a couple of years ago and decided to give it a chance that I even heard of its name. After watching it, I could not believe that the story had not garnered more initial interest. A few weeks ago, I picked up a copy of the book on which it was based and found that the real story was even more complex than the film. One might wonder, with the general verve surrounding war movies these days, why this particular film never saw its heyday.
It may have been due to its somewhat surprising subject matter. Although it is set in World War II, “The Monuments Men” does not satiate its viewers with adrenaline-pumping scenes, dramatic pathos, or bloody battles. It does not tell us, like another Matt Damon film, of a young soldier lost behind lines, or of winning a battle against egregious odds. Instead, “The Monuments Men” tells the story of a fight that took place behind the scenes. It is the true story of a group of brave men and women, a mix of civilians and soldiers, mostly volunteers, who were tasked with an incredibly important mission during the war: that of preserving European culture. In specific, their task was to recover thousands of pieces of stolen artwork that had been taken by the Third Reich throughout the course of the war.
Aside from being fascinating in its own right, the story of the Monuments Men also points to a deeper reality: the fact that art is worth saving. Not only it is worth saving; it is worth risking one’s life for. Hitler waged war on the dignity of humankind. The Monuments Men responded by saving its art. Admittedly, it sounds a bit like something from a fictional story. One could easily imagine putting their life on the line to save another person. In some cases, we might even be able to imagine risking our well-being for a beloved pet. But to die for a painting? Even for those of us who love art, this sounds like a tall order. However, the Monuments Men were not fictional. They were real, as was their decision to risk their lives in order to preserve these masterpieces. Their conviction sheds light on the vital role that art has in the preservation of culture and universal human values.
Why Art?
Why did Hitler go after the art in the first place, we might ask? What was so important about it that he was motivated to steal thousands of priceless pieces and hide them throughout Europe? After all, Hitler did not just ravage cities. He looted them. Did this mastermind simply have a penchant for the rare and valuable?
On one hand, the answer is yes. As an artist himself, Hitler was deeply moved by the art of the western world. Part of his desire to collect art can probably be boiled down to this. But the answer is not quite so simple as that. Hitler also knew that art had a vital connection to European culture, the very culture he was trying to dominate. Culture is what unites humanity in brotherhood under a common set of objective values. The values of a culture are manifested in that culture’s art. Therefore, by better understanding the importance of art, we can better understand why Hitler was so bent on possessing it.
C.S. Lewis wrote that the imagination is the organ of meaning. By this, he meant that it is through the imagination that we come into contact with meaning. Meaning is a prerequisite for knowing any truth whatsoever. We cannot make judgments about something if we don’t understand its meaning. Since the imagination helps us grasp meaning, this means the imagination is necessary in our ability to grasp truth. Centuries before C.S. Lewis, St. Thomas Aquinas argued that only through the power of the imagination can we understand the things we encounter in reality. It is through the images of the things, as through a mirror, that we are put into contact with the things themselves. If we lose the faculty of our imagination, we lose our access to meaning and subsequently, to reality itself. Therefore, since art communicates directly to the soul by means of the imagination, art is absolutely vital in our attempt to understand the meaning of the world.
But this fact alone might not be enough to make art worth dying for. The conviction of the Monuments Men comes into even clearer focus when we consider the dignity that each work of art has as a unique manifestation of man’s creative faculties. Man was created in the image of God, who is a creator. Thus, not only in his being but also in his actions, man mirrors God’s own nature. This is especially true when man creates. We are not only made in the image of God; We also make in the image of God.
The works of our imagination therefore not only enable us to understand reality; they enable us to add to it in some way. When we create, something genuinely new and unrepeatable comes into being. Our art takes the raw materials of God’s creation and “makes them anew,” casting them in new light. When our creations are aligned with truth and goodness, they become our own unique contributions to the ongoing creation of the world. Art is, therefore, in some ways an extension of the one who makes it.
Just as man is sacred because he bears the imprint of the divine in his very being, so too our artworks have dignity because they bear the imprint of our humanity, our dignified (and divinized) nature as “subcreators,” to use J.R.R. Tolkien’s term. Good art is not only impressive or interesting. It is sacred. Whether you prescribe to the Christian worldview or not, most everyone will agree that there is something inexpressibly profound about beautiful art that cries out to be recognized and valued.
On some level, Hitler knew this. He intuited that art was the lifeblood of meaning for European culture. This is why, in addition to curating his own private collection, he put a plan in place to destroy the rest of the art when it was in danger of being recovered. Initially, Hitler planned to make his hometown of Linz, Austria into the center for arts in his new empire. But if he could not accomplish this, he had another, more nefarious intention. On March 19, 1945, seeing that his war efforts were failing, Hitler issued the “Nero Decree,” which called for the destruction of all the Nazi’s resources. This included the stolen art.1 Although Hitler seemingly changed his mind immediately before his death, dispatching a desperate order to preserve the art instead, many of his officers ignored this new order and proceeded laying their plans to detonate the art stashes.
The Control of a Culture
Hitler’s paradoxical relationship with the stolen art makes more sense when we remember that his entire goal was to impose on Europe a new worldview, one which contrasted starkly with the values of Western Civilization. Hitler’s Germany sought to redefine values, leaving behind long-standing ideas about the inherent dignity of the human person. In order to do this, Hitler needed to control the vehicles of meaning that the Western world treasured. It is fascinating that Hitler’s plan to reconstruct the western world included confiscating its art; and yet it makes perfect sense. If you want to master a culture, you must deconstruct its values. If you want to deconstruct its values, you must control its art.
In this endeavor, Hitler was simply following in the footsteps of a long line of tyrants who saw art as a potential threat to their mastery over a culture. During the French Revolution, the previous century’s art was condemned to destruction as recklessly as heads were condemned to the guillotine. It was even adopted as an official part of the political program in 1971.2 Likewise, Plato, who was not a tyrant, advocated for the banishing of poets from his ideal state. Throughout history, art has always been both revered and feared as the heartbeat of a culture.
But what happens when the art in question is worth preserving? What if it speaks, as does the art of Western Civilization, to the inherent dignity of the individual human person? To the freedom of the human spirit? What if our artworks are not just copies of reality, but never-before-known enrichments of its meaning? The art of the Western world conveys in a unique way a sublime set of ethical, religious, and philosophical foundations that have been tested and proved time and again, throughout history. If Dostoyevsky was right that “beauty will save the world,” then the Monuments Men were right that when the world is in danger, we must save its art.
Their Legacy
The story of the Monuments Men was not all inspiration and hope. While most of them survived the war, some did not live to tell their tales. Oklahoma native Capt. Walter Huchthausen was shot down in Western Germany while protecting some of the greatest artworks of Western culture. He was not the only one. Maj. Ronald Edmund Balfour died in northwestern Germany in an attempt to rescue sculptures from a ruined church.3
While these two men did not live to see the fruits of their efforts, their stories live on in the pieces they saved. Among the works saved by the Monuments Men are the Ghent altarpiece, the Mona Lisa, Michelangelo’s Madonna of Bruges, Rembrandt’s “The Night Watch,” and the original manuscript of Beethoven’s Sixth Symphony. The fact that these pieces still exist for us to behold them today reminds us of a time in history when we got it right. It was a time when nations who were still in the middle of a war did not wait until the dust had cleared in order to clean up their mess. Instead, they worked in the moment to mitigate the detrimental effects that war was having on their culture.4 Recognizing with keen foresight that they were at risk of losing some of the world’s greatest conduits of meaning, they banded together to protect them.
In 1945, after Hitler issued his Nero Decree, the Monuments Men raced against time to find the remaining missing pieces. After a long search, their efforts were rewarded. Hordes of priceless works were found in places such as Neuschwanstein Castle and a salt mine in Altaussee, Austria. Among the pieces buried in the salt mine was Michelangelo’s famous Madonnna of Bruges. It was the only one of Michelangelo’s sculptures to ever leave Italy during his lifetime. In the statue, the Virgin Mary looks out with a pensive glance at the world. Her left hand embraces her infant son. In her right hand she holds the Scriptures. The somber expression on her face suggests that she sees ahead of time the suffering that her son will endure for the sake of the world. Yet she offers him anyways.

The film beautifully portrays the moment of the statue’s recovery, highlighting with palpable reverence the look on each man’s face as he beholds the sculpture. Even if they don’t fully understand why, they all know that this piece of art is more than just a testament to its creator’s skill. The statue incarnates a deep and objective meaning, a truth that calls to all men, regardless of country or creed.
As Robert M. Edsel, the author of The Monuments Men, pointed out, it does not often cross our minds as we wander through the Met or the Louvre to consider what others have sacrificed in order that we might behold these mighty works. But it is my hope that by sharing their story, we will all be inspired to take art seriously, whether in creating it, preserving it, or (most importantly) appreciating it. For it is in appreciating it that we honor its meaning and keep it alive.
If, in time of peace, our museums and art galleries are important to the community, in time of war they are doubly valuable. For then, when the petty and the trivial fall way and we are face to face with final and lasting values, we… must summon to our defense all our intellectual and spiritual resources. We must guard jealously all we have inherited from a long past, all we are capable of creating in a trying present, and all we are determined to preserve in a foreseeable future. Art is the imperishable and dynamic expression of these aims. It is, and always has been, the visible evidence of the activity of free minds. Therefore be it resolved: That American museums… will be sources of inspiration illuminating the past and vivifying the present; that they will fortify the spirit on which victory depends.”
-Paul Sachs, Associate Director of Harvard’s Fogg Art Museum, December 20, 1941 (The Monuments Men, 20-21)
Hitler's "Scorched Earth" Decree (Nero Decree) (March 19, 1945) and Albert Speer's Response (March 29, 1945), at GHDI, www.ghdi.ghi-dc.org.
Parzinger, Hermann. Cultural Heritage under Attack: Learning from History, at Getty, at www.getty.edu.
Allen, Silas. Oklahoma-born Monuments Man died protecting cultural treasures in World War II, at The Oklahoman, 6 February 2014, at www.oklahoman.com.
Edsel, Robert M. The Monuments Men. New York: Hachette Book Group, 2009. 2.
This really speaks to my heart, Maddie! I'm thinking of so many things. Have you read Frances Stoner Saunders' scholarly book about the cultural cold war after WW2? It's a fascinating look at how the CIA manipulated the public and artists to embrace abstract and ugly art as a tactic against the Soviet Union. It sounds like a conspiracy theory, but the book is copiously footnoted.
I'm also thinking of the way Saratoga Springs, NY handled an incident when a mob tore down a monument dedicated to the sacrifices of the Union Soldier in the Civil War. This had me seeking revenge, but the town handled it probably in a better way. They quietly had the monument repaired and the plaque makes no mention of the horrible vandals (though they still should have been arrested). Culture won the day.
And finally, my heart raced as I read this because it's exactly how I feel about writing novels. I want to bring more life and beauty into my real and imagined characters precisely because I want to preserve and highlight the "little" people of history who fought their own messy and forgotten battles with grace.
I need to watch this movie!
I haven't seen the movie. Now I want to read the book. Thanks for the suggestion. :)