History Politics and East German Film The Thomas Muntzer 1956 Socialist Epic

Central European History 39 (2006), 30–55.
Copyright # Conference Group for Central European History of the American

Historical Association
DOI: 10.1017/S0008938906000021 Printed in the USA
History, Politics, and East German Film:

The Thomas Müntzer (1956) Socialist Epic
Robert Walinski-Kiehl
in the former German Democratic Republic (GDR), unlike
H
ISTORIANS
their western counterparts, could never allow themselves the luxury of
studying the past for its own sake because, in this Marxist-Leninist state,
history and politics were always inextricably linked. The GDR’s leaders were
committed communists who had long recognized history’s apparent political
power. They were convinced that, for the new “Workers’ and Peasants’
State” to acquire legitimacy among its own people, a German historical narra-
tive, based on the ascertainable “scientific” laws of Marxism, was an essential
requirement. East German citizens had endured twelve years of anti-communist
Nazi rule and, consequently, the task of integrating them into a republic, where
an entirely different set of political values predominated, was a fairly daunting
undertaking.
It was under these inauspicious circumstances that those in authority envi-
saged a Marxist account was necessary to help to re-educate East Germans
about their history, and make them conscious and proud of the radical origins
of the new nation. History represented such an important aspect of the
GDR’s cultural policy that the subject was very carefully supervised, and
the regime unremittingly made certain it was formulated by academics who
were trusted members of the ruling Socialist Unity Party (SED).1
It may initially come as a surprise to learn that the early sixteenth-century
Reformation era held a special place within the historiography of this
I am very grateful to Sue Harper, Professor of Film History at Portsmouth University, who read
earlier drafts of this article and provided me with very helpful comments. The two anonymous
readers for Central European History also made valuable suggestions about particular issues. Finally,
I should like to thank Professor Wolfram Kaiser of Portsmouth University for his continual encour-
agement and interest in my work on GDR history.
Note: For consistency, the rebel’s surname has been spelled “Müntzer” and not “Münzer”
throughout this article.
1
One of the best studies to emerge of the GDR’s historiography since the regime’s demise is
Martin Sabrow, Das Diktat des Konsenses. Geschichtswissenschaft in der DDR 1949 –1969 (Munich:
R. Oldenbourg, 2001). For a succinct, perceptive summary of the GDR’s historiographical devel-
opments, see Konrad H. Jarausch, “Die DDR-Geschichtswissenschaft als Meta-Erzählung,” in
Verwaltete Vergangenheit. Geschichtskultur und Herrschaftslegitimation in der DDR, ed. Martin Sabrow
(Leipzig: Akademische Verlagsanstalt, 1997), 19 –34.
30
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HISTORY, POLITICS, AND EAST GERMAN FILM 31
essentially atheistic state; however, Frederick Engels, one of the leading classi-
cal Marxist scholars, had shown particular interest in the events surrounding
the Reformation epoch. In 1850, he had undertaken a study of the peasant
revolt that erupted a few years after Martin Luther had made his stand
against the Papacy.2 In Engels’ work, pride of place was given to Thomas
Müntzer, the radical preacher who had led an army of peasants against their
feudal, princely oppressors. Engels’ positive assessment ensured that, when
the GDR was established in October 1949, Müntzer held a prominent posi-
tion within East Germany’s hall of revolutionary fame. At first, far less atten-
tion was focused on Luther, the priest who had unleashed the Reformation
movement in 1517, but who had also ferociously condemned the rebellious
peasants in his famous pamphlet, Against the Robbing and Murdering Hordes of
Peasants (1525).
This perspective on Luther would eventually change because, in the GDR,
Marxist narratives of German history were subject to frequent change of
emphasis and amendment. The SED leadership exploited history so consis-
tently for political purposes that circumstances often arose where the past
had to be reinterpreted in order to take into account current shifts in the
Party’s policies. Luther’s re-evaluation from the early 1970s onward can defi-
nitely be related to these kinds of political developments. Gradually Müntzer,
the traditional hero of the state, began to be partially eclipsed by Luther,
who was increasingly incorporated into the GDR’s progressive tradition and
lavishly celebrated in 1983 at the quincentennial anniversary of the reformer’s
birth as “one of the greatest men in German history and a figure of world
stature.”3
Luther’s revised portrayal was closely connected to transformations in the East
German leadership’s policies, the alterations that were made in state-church
relations during the Honecker era and the attempt to establish a dialogue
between the secular Marxist regime and the substantial Christian Lutheran
community that still existed in the GDR, despite having been subjected to
forms of harassment in the 1950s. The reformer’s sudden canonical status
within the GDR was further highlighted by the fact that, during the 1983
2
Frederick Engels, The Peasant War in Germany (1850, pub., Moscow: Progress Publishers, 1969).
For an excellent, recent examination of East German historiography on the Reformation and the
Peasant War, see Laurenz Müller, Diktatur und Revolution. Reformation und Bauernkrieg in der
Geschichtsschreibung des “Dritten Reiches” und der DDR (Stuttgart: Lucius & Lucius, 2004).
3
Horst Bartel, Theses Concerning Martin Luther 1483– 1983: The Luther Quincentenary in the German
Democratic Republic (Dresden: Verlag Zeit im Bild, 1983), 3. For discussion about the Luther celebra-
tions and also anniversaries involving the Peasant War, see Robert Walinski-Kiehl, “Reformation
History and Political Mythology in the German Democratic Republic, 1949– 89,” European
History Quarterly 34 (2004): 43–67.
32 ROBERT WALINSKI-KIEHL
anniversary year, a five-part filmed dramatization of his life, Martin Luther, was
broadcast on East German television.4
Luther was not the first significant personality from the Reformation era to be
honored in this manner. During the GDR’s early years, Müntzer’s life was
the subject of an extremely costly film treatment.5 While a recent work on
the Martin Luther television production has appeared,6 the Thomas Müntzer
film biography deserves closer academic scrutiny because it remains a sorely
neglected topic in spite of the sudden scholarly interest in East German
cinema following the collapse of the Berlin Wall.7 The study of historical
films in general poses problems, however, because they are rather opaque cul-
tural documents and cannot provide direct and immediate access to the concerns
of the societies in which they were produced. It is, for instance, difficult to reach
conclusions, other than very general ones, about the attitudes and mentalities of
the wider viewing public on the basis of this kind of source, for audiences’
interpretations of what they saw on screen are extremely hard to determine.
Films about the past may not be able to provide a direct or privileged means of
understanding a given society, but they can still be helpful to historians.8 In this
particular genre, history—albeit in an oblique manner—could, on occasion, be
employed to address and comment on significant present-day concerns. For
example, in wartime Britain, filmmakers often evoked episodes from a long-
gone era to supply patriotic propaganda and suggest analogies with the contem-
porary situation. Laurence Olivier’s famous screen adaptation of Shakespeare’s
Henry V is a case in point. Here, patriotic parallels could easily be drawn
between the Allied troops’ campaign in Europe following D-Day and the
early fifteenth-century English soldiers’ victory over a foreign foe at Agincourt.9
Historical films, together with other cultural artifacts dealing with former
times in either novel or theatrical form, certainly concern themselves in many
4
Kurt Veth, dir., Martin Luther (Parts 1 to 5), DEFA, 1983.
5
Martin Hellberg, dir., Thomas Müntzer, DEFA, 1956.
6
Horst Dähn and Joachim Heise, eds., Luther und die DDR. Der Reformator und das DDR-Fernsehen
1983 (Berlin: Edition Ost, 1996).
7
For the most part, work has focused on films about modern themes, particularly those that
depicted everyday existence under communist rule: the Alltagsfilme (films about daily life). See
especially Joshua Feinstein, The Triumph of the Ordinary: Depictions of Daily Life in the East German
Cinema, 1949–1989 (Chapel Hill and London: University of North Carolina Press, 2002).
Daniela Berghahn’s recent study devotes a chapter to DEFA’s costume dramas but does not
examine the Müntzer biopic in Hollywood Behind the Wall: The Cinema of East Germany (Manchester
and New York: Manchester University Press, 2005), ch. three.
8
For a sensible, jargon-free discussion of film and the other arts’ usefulness as source material
for the historian, see Arthur Marwick, The New Nature of History: Knowledge, Evidence, Language
(Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2001), 185–93.
9
James Chapman, The British At War: Cinema, State and Propaganda, 1939–1945 (London: I. B.
Tauris, 1998), 244–48. For an excellent, groundbreaking study of the various functions, especially
social ones, that British historical films could perform, see Sue Harper, Picturing the Past: The Rise
and Fall of the British Costume Film (London: BFI Publishing, 1994).
instances with issues relevant to the era in which they were created. This is
undoubtedly true about the GDR’s cinematic treatment of the past because,
under communist rule, present interests continually shaped historical narratives.
Filmmaking and most other cultural activities were so closely controlled by the
state that the GDR’s history films may, in fact, be especially useful for the
possible insights they can offer into certain political priorities of the regime,
and how these preoccupations influenced and molded a production.
An examination of an historical film such as Thomas Müntzer should also be
of scholarly interest, because it can broaden our knowledge of the methods
adopted by the party to disseminate its version of East Germany’s past
among the people. The Politburo’s members, after all, regarded history as a
very important ideological means of legitimating their rule to society at
large. Consequently, the party’s elite ensured that the subject was not simply
confined primarily to books written by professional academics, but also that
history was mediated widely and publicized in a variety of accessible cultural
modes: museum displays, plays, novels, films, television and radio programs,
jubilee anniversaries, and, most famous of all, Werner Tübke’s enigmatic
panoramic painting, entitled Early Bourgeois Revolution in Germany, that was
more than forty-five feet high and commemorated the Peasants’ War of
1525. Until the mid-1990s, historians tended to be reluctant to explore the
non-literary sources that helped to shape the GDR’s historical culture.10 Yet
it is only by paying closer attention to these kinds of cultural artifacts that a
more comprehensive understanding will emerge about the relationship
between history and politics, and the methods used to propagate the GDR’s
historical discourse to the wider public. It is with these considerations in
mind that this article will focus now on the GDR’s cinematic treatment of
the life and revolutionary times of the sixteenth-century religious leader.
Besides the film itself, the comprehensive source materials available in the
archives, opened since the GDR’s demise, make it possible, for the first
time, to undertake a thorough examination of Thomas Müntzer. These docu-
ments provide evidence about the various stages of production from the
initial script formulations to the film’s eventual release at the cinema. Before
examining this specific film, however, it is necessary to place it within a mean-
ingful historical context by considering issues such as the role of cinema within
the GDR and the organization of the East German film industry.
Cultural policy in the GDR during its early years was dominated by a narrow
view of aesthetics that focused primarily on its didactic purposes, and this
10
For a good example of recent attempts to examine GDR history from more wide-ranging per-
spectives and consider sources such as film, radio, painting, and even comics, see the various essays in
Sabrow, ed., Verwaltete Vergangenheit. See also the following pioneering article, H. Glenn Penny III,
“The Museum für Deutsche Geschichte and German National Identity,” Central European History 28
(1995): 343–72.
applied as much to film as it did to the other arts.11 The East German leadership
initially adopted a very basic, functional approach to the cinema and regarded
film as a useful tool for the political re-education of a guilt-ridden population
seduced by fascism and militarism. In May 1946, at the opening ceremony of
Deutsche Film-Aktiengesellschaft (DEFA), the newly established film industry in
Germany’s Soviet Zone of Occupation, Colonel Sergei I. Tiul’panov, head of
the propaganda department of the Soviet Military Administration in Germany
(SMAD), emphasized that the cinema’s main task was “the struggle to re-
educate the German people—especially the young—to a true understanding
of genuine democracy and humanism. . .”12 As cinema was regarded as such
an important means of political education and ideological management, the
film industry was, from the outset, subjected to close supervision by the
state.13 At first, in November 1947, a Film Commission was established to
ensure that the SED Party maintained institutional dominance over film pro-
duction. In August 1952, the State Committee for Film Questions replaced
this body, so that even firmer governmental influence was exercised over the
whole film business. After a specific ministry had been established within the
GDR in 1954 to co-ordinate general cultural affairs, the State Committee
was dissolved and the Central Film Administration (Hauptverwaltung Film)
assumed control of its functions. This new agency was part of the recently
created Ministry of Culture and was headed by the deputy minister, Anton
Ackermann, a politician who had concerned himself with cultural policy
issues since the early days of Soviet Occupation. The Central Film Admini-
stration comprised studio representatives and party functionaries; it closely
supervised almost every stage of production from the initial approval of new
film projects to final matters of censorship and distribution. East Germany’s
monopolistic state control over the film industry differed greatly from the
laissez-faire systems operative in the West that were motivated primarily by
the desire for profit rather than propaganda.
Scripts were invariably carefully scrutinized and changes demanded, if
they were deemed to be at all critical of the state. Political concerns predomi-
nated during the entire production process, and it was not only a script’s
subject matter but also a film’s general visual style that came under the
party’s all-embracing control. Throughout the early 1950s, in particular, the
notion of “socialist realism” formed the basic principle of pictorial
11
One of the best examinations of East German cultural policy toward the cinema between 1945
and 1959 is still Thomas Heimann, DEFA, Künstler und SED-Kulturpolitik. Zum Verhältnis von Kul-
turpolitik und Filmproduktion in der SBZ/DDR 1945 bis 1959 (Berlin: Vistas Verlag, 1994).
12
Quoted in Seán Allan and John Sandford, eds., DEFA: East German Cinema, 1946–1992
(New York and Oxford: Berghahn Books, 1999), 3.
13
A useful summary in English of the development of the DEFA Film Studios can be found in
ibid., ch.1. See also Feinstein, The Triumph of the Ordinary, ch. one; Berghahn, Hollywood Behind
the Wall, ch. one.
representation.14 This aesthetic had its origins in the Stalinist Russia of the
1930s, and it emphasized art’s propagandist function. Although “socialist
realism” did not lay down precise instructions over technique or content,
naturalism was the favored style in the visual arts. The ethics of “socialist
realism” demanded that the artist had to depict “reality” so that it conformed
to the politically correct demands of Marxist-Leninism as defined by the Party.
A work of art’s central aim was to instruct the workers in the communist ethos. As
far as the cinema was concerned, “socialist realism” was increasingly interpreted
to mean a film should not only reflect present “reality” but also represent what
society would soon become under socialism.15 The politics of “socialist realism”
emphasized that art offered an obligatory optimistic message to demonstrate to
the viewer that socialism would succeed. Films in the 1950s that adopted
visual styles that seemed to threaten the “socialist realism” paradigm, such as
“neo-realism,” or that focused on despairing, pessimistic protagonists, were
condemned by the Party and deemed to exhibit “formalism”—the cardinal sin
ascribed by Marxists to “bourgeois,” “decadent” art.
During its early years, the DEFA studios found it increasingly difficult to find
suitable scripts that adhered to the principles of “socialist realism” and con-
cerned themselves with confident, positive, dedicated, working-class heroes.
East German scriptwriters may have had some sympathy for the views of the
British film director, Frank Launder: “I have always taken the view that
untainted heroes, unless biblical, are a bore.”16 The dearth of DEFA films focus-
ing on heroes of socialism began to worry the party’s leadership. When
Hermann Axen, a member of the Politburo, addressed the conference of film-
makers in September 1952, he stressed the importance of positive heroes as
subject matter for the cinema.17
Just a few months prior to Axen’s speech, the film director, Martin Hellberg,
first approached DEFA about the possibility of making a film concerned with
Müntzer. Hellberg informs us in his memoirs that he wrote to Sepp Schwab,
the head of the studio, on June 1, 1952, seeking permission.18 The project
was justified on the grounds that a greater knowledge of history could help
prevent the German people from ever again going astray. His argument was
likely to appeal to the party functionaries at the studio, because it corresponded
well with DEFA’s original mission statement about the need for the cinema to
14
Matthew Cullerne Bown, Art Under Stalin (Oxford: Phaidon, 1991), 89 –95; David Elliott,
“Engineers of the Human Soul: Painting of the Stalin Period,” in Soviet Socialist Realist Painting,
1930s-1960s, ed. Matthew Cullerne Bown (Oxford: Museum of Modern Art Oxford, 1992), 5–17.
15
Sabine Hake, German National Cinema (London and New York: Routledge, 2002), 100.
16
Quoted in Chapman, The British At War, 237.
17
Heimann, DEFA, Künstler und SED-Kulturpolitik, 134–35; Feinstein, The Triumph of the Ordin-
ary, 30.
18
Martin Hellberg, Mit scharfer Optik: Erinnerungen eines Filmmenschen (Berlin: Henschel Verlag,
1982), 163.
re-educate the population. It was also advantageous for Hellberg that his request
was made at a time when the GDR’s leaders were beginning to become seriously
concerned about the lack of positive socialist heroes in films. On June 12, 1952,
Schwab, a doctrinaire political functionary, responded to Hellberg and informed
him that DEFA would give its full support to the project.19
Although Hellberg’s memoirs perhaps inflate his political influence by
suggesting he initiated the scheme, it needs to be pointed out that the GDR
leadership had long considered Müntzer and the German Peasants’ War of
1525 to be suitable subjects for film treatment. When the prominent, exiled
German Communist Party (KPD) members had met on September 25, 1944,
at the Moscow Hotel Lux to discuss cultural questions in the future new
Germany, it had been agreed that films should be made about important histori-
cal events such as the Peasants’ War.20 Hellberg’s role in instigating the project is
further undermined by the fact that at least three script outlines had already been
submitted to DEFA before he made his approach to the studio.21
The first two outlines, entitled Thomas Müntzer—A German Revolutionary,
were presented at the end of 1950 by the same scriptwriting team: Fritz Klie
and Enno Neumann. It is characteristic of both scripts that they do not just
focus on Müntzer, but also concern themselves with the exploits of fictional
lovers caught up in the maelstrom of political events.22 This was certainly a dra-
matic device, designed to make the historical film more accessible to audiences
and allow them to identify and sympathize with the tribulations of more ordin-
ary, recognizable characters. Müntzer himself may have been present as a specific
character in key dramatic episodes, but in scripts that contained a strong roman-
tic interest, it was the fictional performers that tended to dominate the action.
While these rather sentimental socialist melodramas may have appealed to the
sensibilities of an unsophisticated audience, they obviously lacked the political
rigor demanded of the party. After the 1953 Popular Uprising, the GDR’s
cinema bureaucrats were compelled to soften their harsh didactic policies, and
they began to acknowledge that films could also be about entertainment as
well as instruction.23 This more relaxed attitude could not be applied to import-
ant productions that dealt with major historical themes, however.
19
Ibid.
20
Heimann, DEFA, Künstler und SED-Kulturpolitik, 25– 26. The following leading German com-
munists were present at the meeting: Wilhelm Pieck, Walter Ulbricht, Erich Weinert, Anton Ack-
ermann, and Alfred Kurella.
21
Material from DEFA’s trade archive has been deposited in the Bundesarchiv Berlin (BAB,
DR117). The three script outlines can be found there.
22
“Fritz Klie und Enno Neumann: ‘Thomas Müntzer, ein deutscher Revolutionär,’
Drehbuch-Exposé, Berlin, den 20. Dez. 50,” Bl. 1 –12; “Fritz Klie und Enno Neumann:
‘Thomas Müntzer, ein deutscher Revolutionär,’ Film-Exposé, Berlin, den 20. November 50,” Bl.
1– 7: BAB, DR117/9408.
23
Feinstein, The Triumph of the Ordinary, 37.
In February 1952—only four months before Hellberg made his approach to
the studio—a third script synopsis was submitted by Walter Gorrish. This
outline also included two fictional lovers: the peasants Jörg and Barbara.
Müntzer remained more conspicuously at the center of the drama in Gorrish’s
version, and a greater number of identifiable sixteenth-century personalities
were included. Quotations from Müntzer’s own writings were cited to
enhance the sense of historical authenticity.24 In spite of the fact that the
script outline possessed more depth than the previous efforts, it was not
considered suitable for film treatment.
The studio may have responded positively to Hellberg’s suggestion to make a
film because he was already a well-respected director and had won the GDR’s
World Peace Prize and the National Prize for his work; however, his attempt
to film the Müntzer biography did not proceed without some initial difficulties.
Although Hellberg claimed later that he and Friedrich Wolf—one of the GDR’s
leading playwrights—worked together on the script,25 no mention was ever
made of the fact that, on November 7, 1952, he submitted his own personal
screenplay to the studio. He might have been reluctant to refer subsequently
to this work. It cannot have found favor with the studio, since it bore almost
no resemblance to the final shooting script. This draft is noteworthy for the stri-
dent political tone that is emphasized in its very title: Thomas Müntzer: A Film
about the Necessity for Unity and Defense.26 In the cast list, the political disposition
of the central characters is even outlined and considered from a Marxist perspec-
tive. Müntzer is described as a positive hero and representative of the revolution-
ary plebeian and peasant camp. On the other hand, Luther is characterized as
an antagonist and representative of the reforming, bourgeois, urban faction.
Hellberg may have employed the hard-line Marxist categories used to differen-
tiate the characters in an attempt to convince the studio’s functionaries that
his work possessed the correct political credentials and was grounded in an
orthodox materialist concept of history.
Although the draft had an aggressive political tone, it did provide a far more
thorough and rounded treatment of the religious leader than the earlier versions.
More close attention was focused on the central political events in Müntzer’s life
and, at least, no attempts were made to introduce subplots involving fictitious
peasants who were romantically attached. Luther’s inclusion in the script was
a significant feature, because the religious reformer was not represented as a
dramatic character in the final filmed version. In Hellberg’s script, an early
scene is concerned with the famous incident at the Imperial Diet of Worms
24
“Walter Gorrish: ‘Thomas Müntzer,’ Exposé” February 22, 1952, BAB, DR117/9406, Bl. 1 –
55.
25
Hellberg, Mit scharfer Optik, 163.
26
“‘Thomas Müntzer: Ein Film der Mahnung zu Einheit und Verteidigung,’ Szenarium von
Martin Hellberg, 7. November 1952,” BAB, DR117/9407, Bl. 1 –69.
in 1521, when Luther stands before the Emperor and refuses to retract his reli-
gious criticisms of the Papacy. Hellberg makes Luther utter the defiant words,
“Here I stand, I can do nothing else. . .”27 Luther also appears in the penultimate
scene, but this time he is no longer heroically defiant. After the guests have
departed on his wedding day, Luther is guilt-ridden for the part he has played
in the defeat of the German peasantry and exclaims to his wife, Katharina,
“All their blood gushes over my neck.”28
Unlike Müntzer, Luther posed significant problems of interpretation for the
GDR regime throughout the 1950s and beyond. He appeared a discredited his-
torical personality because of his savage condemnation of the peasants in 1525.
Nevertheless, even in the GDR’s early days, the regime acknowledged that the
reformer had accomplished some progressive tasks. His specific attack on papal
authority was viewed positively. Marxists interpreted Luther’s defiance as the
central act that provoked the first national struggle undertaken by Germans
against the oppressive, feudal, Catholic Church based in Rome. Alfred
Meusel, the Director of Berlin’s Museum for German History, praised
Luther’s rebellious stand at Worms in 1521 and viewed him, in this respect, as
a national hero.29 On October 5, 1952, a meeting for historians and SED poli-
ticians was organized by the Academic Council of the Museum for German
History in an initial attempt to resolve some of the difficulties surrounding
Luther’s portrayal. Disagreements over how to assess the reformer were certainly
in evidence at the gathering.30 Some scholars, such as Jürgen Kuczynski, felt it
necessary to focus more thoroughly on Luther’s progressive aspects and his con-
tribution to the development of German national consciousness. On the other
hand, Meusel was intent on stressing the Janus-faced nature of the reformer and
on not over-emphasizing the positive at the expense of the negative. He firmly
observed that Luther’s progressive phase should be strictly confined to the years
up to 1521; thereafter, he became a reactionary who sided with the princes.
Meusel’s position as director of Berlin’s History Museum gave him significant
academic authority and his opinions naturally held sway at the time. Hellberg
submitted his film script shortly after the October meeting, and it was not sur-
prising that his perspective on Luther corresponded with Meusel’s doctrinaire
views.
While Hellberg had decided to incorporate the politically problematic char-
acter of Luther into the screenplay, the playwright Friedrich Wolf adopted an
entirely different dramatic tactic. The religious reformer was not present at all
27
Ibid., Bl. 4. All translations are mine unless indicated otherwise.
28
Ibid., Bl. 69.
29
Martin Roy, Luther in der DDR: Zum Wandel des Lutherbildes in der DDR-Geschichtsschreibung
(Bochum: Winkler, 2000), 86.
30
For a summary of issues raised at this meeting, see Müller, Diktatur und Revolution, 188–90; Roy,
Luther in der DDR, 90– 91.
in the script that Wolf delivered to DEFA on March 8, 1953.31 When Wolf ’s
version came to be scrutinized for its suitability by the Committee for Film
Affairs on July 6, 1953, Luther was, predictably, one of the main subjects for dis-
cussion.32 The committee was evidently mindful of Luther’s politically sensitive
status within the GDR, and of the necessity to portray him in an appropriate
manner. It was recognized that an over-concentration on Luther’s reactionary
elements could be counter-productive and alienate public opinion. Positive
aspects of Luther were mentioned at the meeting, and it was considered
especially important for the film to stress the reformer’s transformation from
rebel to reactionary; however, the question remained whether this theme
could be dealt with satisfactorily without Luther actually being present in the
film. After some deliberation, the committee accepted Wolf ’s interpretation
and unanimously agreed: “Luther should not appear as a character.”33 The
approach had the obvious advantage that it prevented an audience from ever
identifying closely with the character of Luther on screen and finding him
to be a more attractive personality than Müntzer. A substantial Lutheran
Protestant population still existed in the GDR, so there was a distinct possi-
bility that this could occur. On the other hand, the total exclusion of the
reformer from the film was a rather drastic measure, because it could convey
the message to audiences that Luther was completely persona non grata within
the GDR.34 This was not necessarily the kind of extreme negative impression
of Luther that the committee intended to present on film. DEFA’s political
functionaries undoubtedly felt themselves under some constraints in their pres-
entation of Luther, because of the significant Protestant presence. Although
they had no intention of ingratiating themselves with Lutherans by presenting
a completely favorable portrayal of the reformer, the politicians knew that they
had to take religious considerations into account to avoid total Protestant
estrangement from the regime. Committee members, therefore, welcomed
the playwright’s decision to include and present sympathetically the character
of Pastor Haferitz; he would substitute for Luther and act as a mouthpiece
for the reformer’s doctrines. The dramatic device would, at least, go some
way toward mollifying Protestant viewers.
31
“Friedrich Wolf: ‘Thomas Müntzer,’ Film-Exposé,” March 8, 1953, BAB, DR117/9405, Bl. 1 –
20. Wolf had already written a stage play about the religious leader before working on the film
outline: Thomas Müntzer. Der Mann mit der Regenbogenfahne. Much of the script was based on this
drama.
32
“Auszug aus dem Protokoll des Rates beim Komitee f. Filmwesen am 6.7.53. über die 2. Bespre-
chung des Exposés ‘Thomas Müntzer’ von Fr. Wolf,” BAB, DR117/21747, Bl. 134–43.
33
Ibid., Bl. 137.
34
The historian, Hans-Jürgen Goertz, observes in his discussion of Wolf ’s play that “Luther is pun-
ished by total exclusion from the action; he is persona non grata; without a voice and without an
advocate.” Goertz, Thomas Müntzer: Apocalyptic Mystic and Revolutionary (Edinburgh: T & T Clark,
1993), 17.
Luther did not preoccupy the entire time of the meeting, for more practical
matters of filmmaking were discussed, particularly the issue of whether this
important film should be shot in black and white or color. At this point in
time, no firm resolution was made, but it was eventually decided to use
color. A black-and-white film would have been perfectly acceptable, for it
could convey the impression of documentarism and moral worthiness
associated with socialist cinema; however, more prestige is likely to have
been conferred on a color production, because of the additional expense
and technical difficulty of shooting in this medium. Color films were certainly
a rarity during these years, and this would have enhanced their status within
the GDR. Between 1946 and the end of 1959, DEFA released one
hundred sixty-eight feature films, but only twenty-nine were in color.35 In
1955, five color films appeared in the cinemas, and in 1956 only four, includ-
ing Thomas Müntzer. By 1956, two films had already been made in color about
the other great GDR hero, Ernst Thälmann; he had led the German Commu-
nist Party from 1925 onward and died a prisoner in Buchenwald Concen-
tration Camp. It would, therefore, perhaps have appeared politically
disrespectful not to give the Müntzer film the same color treatment accorded
to the Thälmann productions (Ernst Thälmann—Sohn seiner Klasse and Ernst
Thälmann—Führer seiner Klasse). The decision for color would have clearly sig-
naled to the general public that the film was a major production about one of
East Germany’s central historical personalities. It must have also been envi-
saged by the Party’s leaders that the novelty of color would increase the
film’s popular appeal and guarantee its success at the cinema.
Direct political considerations were always uppermost in the minds of DEFA’s
functionaries, and it was small wonder that, at the committee meeting held in
July 1953, blunt questions were posed about the film’s relevance for the Party.
Someone directly asked: “What purpose does the film serve? Should it
support us in the national struggle?”36 The national cause represented a signifi-
cant priority for the regime, because the leaders professed commitment to the
ending of Germany’s division and to reunification in the not-too-distant
future.37 There was, though, little prospect that the kind of German unification,
based on the anti-imperialist, socialist foundations favored by the leadership,
would have found much support among the Western Powers. The party
35
For details of DEFA films released between 1946 and 1959, see the filmography in Ralph
Schenk, ed., Das zweite Leben der Filmstadt Babelsberg: DEFA Spielfilme 1946–1992 (Berlin: Henschel
Verlag, 1994), 358–99.
36
“Auszug aus dem Protokoll,” BAB, DR117/21747, Bl. 139.
37
Mike Dennis, in The Rise and Fall of the German Democratic Republic, 1945 –1990 (Harlow:
Longman, 2000), 55, observes that, at the GDR’s foundation, “the SED’s German policy appeared
to have as its goal the eventual withering away of the GDR as a separate state.” By the early 1970s, the
GDR abandoned claims for a united Germany under socialism; see Stefan Berger, Germany (London:
Hodder Arnold, 2004), 221.
functionaries present at the meeting considered the early sixteenth century a
very suitable historical epoch to select for the promotion of national conscious-
ness. Marxist historians had, of course, interpreted the Reformation era as the
first mass movement for German national unity. Luther was perceived as the his-
torical personality who had initiated the national campaign with his challenge
against Rome but was incapable of sustaining it, owing to his bourgeois-class
instincts. While Luther hesitated, Müntzer, the champion of the popular
cause, was seen to have taken the struggle much further and aimed to establish
through revolutionary action the first unified, democratic state in Germany.38
GDR historians and the SED functionaries regarded the sixteenth-century
rebel’s actions as the inauguration of a distinctive, progressive East German
historical tradition. This heritage stood in sharp contrast to the reactionary
“bourgeois” one in the West, since it focused on class struggles and the rebellious
attempts by the common folk through the centuries to overthrow their masters.
The story of Müntzer and his radical compatriots would, therefore, have
appeared an ideal subject for a DEFA film, because it could, hopefully, help cul-
tivate socialist identities among East Germans by making them aware of their
progressive historical roots.39
At a script meeting held on February 12, 1954, the film’s importance for
demonstrating East Germany’s radical political heritage was firmly emphasized.
In order to underline the point, Engels’ famous quote from his Peasants’ War
study was cited: “The German people also had their revolutionary tradition.”40
This session was not only concerned with uttering Marxist slogans but also had
to deal with a more immediate matter. Friedrich Wolf had died suddenly on
October 5, 1953, and Martin Hellberg had to assume full responsibility for
the final scriptwriting. Hellberg did not slavishly reproduce Wolf ’s version,
but imposed his own, individual stamp on the project by adding various
scenes and deleting others as he saw fit; however, he did retain much of
Wolf ’s original material and remained faithful to the general spirit and intentions
of the eminent playwright’s work.41
38
Jan Herman Brinks, in Paradigms of Political Change: Luther, Frederick II, and Bismarck (Milwaukee:
Marquette University Press, 2001), 154, notes that: “Until the mid-1960s, the main focus in terms of
content and ideology centered on a positive assessment of the Peasants’ War and the historic figure of
Müntzer. The Peasants’ War came to be designated as a consequence and climax of the struggle for
national unity.”
39
For a very perceptive discussion of socialist national identity construction within the GDR, see
Berger, Germany, ch. seven.
40
“Stellungnahme der Dramaturgie zum Drehbuch ‘Thomas Müntzer’ nach dem literarischen
Szenarium von Friedrich Wolf, Regie: Martin Hellberg,” February 12, 1954, BAB, DR117/
2742, Bl. 27. The Hauptverwaltung Film organized the meeting and Anton Ackermann was in
attendance.
41
It should be noted that Wolf ’s son, Konrad, then an assistant director at DEFA, was present at this
meeting. Konrad was in regular contact with Hellberg and is likely to have kept a careful eye on the
revisions to ensure that no excessive liberties were taken with his father’s painstaking work. The
This particular meeting was especially informative about the main academic
writings influencing the script. The film required, after all, some basis in
Marxist scholarship if it was to achieve credibility as an historical narrative in
the GDR. During the early 1950s, the choice of relevant Marxist literature
on Müntzer was severely limited, and GDR scholars in the universities had
undertaken little work on sixteenth-century German history. Alongside
Engels’ classic study of the Peasants’ War, Alfred Meusel’s rather insubstantial
examination of Thomas Müntzer did appear in 1952.42 A far more compre-
hensive, highly detailed, scholarly monograph by the Russian historian,
Moses Smirin, was also published that year, and it seems to have exerted con-
siderable influence on the screenplay.43 Smirin’s monograph was not only
mentioned at script meetings, but quotations from the work were also cited
in a promotional publicity brochure.44 The study appears to have played an
important part in shaping the film and providing it with a convincing
Marxist historical framework.
Factual accuracy was another essential requirement for this kind of official
historical film. Any simple errors would cause acute embarrassment for the
GDR authorities and suggest they possessed a poor knowledge of their own
radical history. The preoccupation with historical accuracy was made abun-
dantly clear at the final script conference, held on June 25, 1955, and orga-
nized by DEFA’s Arts Council (Künstlerischen Rat). Here, it was pointed
out, rather pedantically, that Müntzer’s famous sermon before the princes
should be set correctly in Allstedt, and not in Weimar, as outlined in the
script.45 This final meeting was generally satisfied with the screenplay, and
only a few minor cuts and changes to particular scenes were demanded.
A decision was now reached to introduce the film with the following
playwright’s version of the film script has been reproduced in Friedrich Wolf, Filmerzählungen
(Berlin: Aufbau-Verlag, 1959), 333–424.
42
This work focused on a number of themes in Reformation history, such as Luther and also the
Imperial Knights’ Revolt. Only one chapter was specifically devoted to Müntzer. Alfred Meusel,
Thomas Müntzer und seine Zeit (Berlin: Aufbau-Verlag, 1952).
43
Moses M. Smirin, Die Volksreformation des Thomas Müntzer und der grosse Bauernkrieg (Berlin:
Dietz Verlag, 1952). Throughout the 1950s, Soviet scholarship still dominated the study of six-
teenth-century German history, and this particular work was the most influential one in academic
circles. Smirin followed Engels in viewing Müntzer as a champion of the masses whose teachings
looked forward to the later ideas of communism.
44
DEFA’s Press Office produced an illustrated brochure, Thomas Müntzer (Potsdam-Babelsberg,
1956). Besides only a couple of brief quotes from Engels, three whole pages were devoted to
lengthy extracts from the 1956 edition of Smirin’s study. A copy of the brochure can be found in
the Film Museum Berlin’s archive. See Archiv der Stiftung Deutsche Kinemathek Berlin
(ASDKB), Schriftgutarchiv: “Thomas Müntzer,” Nr. 2599.
45
“Protokoll der Besprechung des Künstlerischen Rates über das Drehbuch ‘Thomas Müntzer’ am
25.6.55 um 9,00 Uhr in Berlin,” BAB, DR117/21748, Bl. 9.
authoritative words in the opening credits: Thomas Müntzer—A German
History Film.46 The adoption of this cinematic device would help to ensure
that GDR audiences were definitely made aware they were about to watch
a film of some historical significance.
The project had been in the planning phase for more than three years and,
throughout that time, party functionaries had subjected the script to close
political scrutiny. At last, on July 6, 1955, the final, approved version of the
screenplay was issued.47 Film shooting commenced on August 3, 1955,
and it was completed in record time in December of that year.48 This was
an impressive feat, considering the epic scale of the production. It was one
of the GDR’s most expensive films made during the 1950s and cost a stagger-
ing 4,035,249 German marks.49 The only productions at the time that had
consumed so much of DEFA’s budget were the two films devoted to Ernst
Thälmann.50 For Thomas Müntzer, a huge cast was assembled that involved
forty-two speaking roles, together with one hundred fifty-nine credited
minor parts. Hundreds of extras, many of them students at local party colleges,
were recruited as extras for the battle and crowd scenes. In an effort to create
authenticity, much of the location work was filmed in Thuringia and the sur-
rounding regions on sites associated with Müntzer, such as Allstedt, Franken-
hausen, and Mühlhausen. Götz Neumann, the principal cameraman, was
already familiar with the area because of his work there in 1952 on a docu-
mentary concerned with the GDR’s organization for school children, the
Young Pioneers. One episode in the film, Blue Kerchiefs in the Summer
Wind, had focused on two Young Pioneers, Hedi and Inge, engaged enthusias-
tically on a Thomas Müntzer history trail in Mühlhausen.51 Neumann filmed
Thomas Müntzer in the same Agfa color that he had employed on the
documentary.
46
Ibid. The numerous biblical quotations that were cited in the script were of some concern, and
the issue was raised at this gathering. Obviously, Müntzer’s theological interests could not take pre-
cedence over his social revolutionary preoccupations. It is significant that Konrad Wolf was present at
the meeting, and he declared that he was totally in agreement with the screenplay (see n. 41 above).
47
“Thomas Müntzer, Drehbuch: DEFA Studio für Spielfilme, 6.7.55,” BAB, DR117/2741, Bl. 1 –
271. Various versions of this screenplay were produced, and they have been deposited in a number of
archives; however, only the version dated July 6, 1955, constituted the final one approved by the
studio. All subsequent references have been taken from this edition.
48
A detailed film schedule document that includes dates of filming, location sites, and cast list can
be found in ASDKB, Schriftgutarchiv: “Thomas Müntzer,” Nr. 2599.
49
“Schlussbericht Thomas Müntzer,” April 30, 1956, BAB, DR117/23056.
50
Kurt Maetzig, dir., Ernst Thälmann—Sohn seiner Klasse, DEFA, 1954; Kurt Maetzig, dir., Ernst
Thälmann—Führer seiner Klasse, DEFA, 1955. For recent discussion of these films, see Dagmar
Schittly, Zwischen Regie und Regime. Die Filmpolitik der SED im Spiegel der DEFA-Produktionen
(Berlin: Ch. Links Verlag, 2002), 65–69; Feinstein, The Triumph of the Ordinary, 39. The first
Thälmann film cost 6.3 million German marks.
51
Herbert Ballmann, dir., Blaue Wimpel im Sommerwind, DEFA, 1952.
Throughout the Müntzer film, there were many full-length shots and rela-
tively few close-ups.52 This was, no doubt, a deliberate “socialist” policy on
the director’s part. A lack of close-ups would make it very difficult for the
film to render the interior subjective life of the protagonists and emphasize
their individuality. The numerous full-length shots compelled viewers not to
prolong their gaze on specific characters in particular scenes, but to focus on
the whole ensemble. In this sense, the film can be regarded as socially inclusive
rather than concentrating on the heroics of individuals. DEFA’s political func-
tionaries would have approved of such a presentation of visual images, for the
camera shots drew attention to the social collective at the expense of “bourgeois
individualism.” The sets were mostly rather sparse and contained few objects that
would have presented the past as a site of pleasure or curiosity. Overall, the film’s
visual texture can be described as rather austere and puritan. This is exemplified
by the bland lighting that made the composition of images too symmetrical and
lacking in interest. There was a distinct absence of the creative use of low-key
expressionist lighting that would have produced scenes of visual stimulation
and suspense. It was only to be expected that such lighting techniques were
missing because this particular visual style was associated too closely with the
cinematic tradition of the discredited Weimar era. The film’s lack of optical
inventiveness would have appealed especially to the cultural politicians, since
it corresponded with their own assumptions about the importance of a sober,
matter-of-fact, realist orthodoxy in film. There were also no examples in the
film of the swift montage-style editing characteristic of Eisenstein’s work—a
cinematic device considered too avant-garde by the GDR’s aesthetically conser-
vative authorities. The ponderous manner in which Müntzer and his peasant
troops’ last struggle at Frankenhausen is mainly filmed in long shot contrasts
sharply with the skillful adoption of montage seen in the exciting battle
sequence of Eisenstein’s Russian classic, Aleksandr Nevskii (1938).
While Müntzer is aesthetically rather dull, the actual dialogue was often quite
complex and made significant demands on viewers’ concentration. This mis-
match between the verbal message and the visual style draws attention to a prin-
cipal element of the “socialist realist” ethic: the centrality of an artwork’s content
over its form. In most respects, the film conformed to the aesthetic doctrines of
“socialist realism,” and it can, in fact, be regarded as a clear example of this
method of filmmaking. “Socialist realism” was never an exact orthodoxy,
however, and there was room for some debate about its defining characteristics.
Consequently, even the Müntzer film would eventually face criticism in some
quarters because it did not appear to adhere closely enough to what certain
individuals interpreted as the correct aesthetic ideology.
52
Professor Sue Harper discussed the film’s visual style with me and made very helpful
observations.
The filmmakers of this “socialist realist” epic decided to chart the turbulent,
peripatetic career of Müntzer, the proto-communist ahead of his time, from
1519 onward—just two years after the start of the Lutheran Reformation.53
Early on in the film, we see him in his official role as priest to the convent of
Weissenfels. At this stage, Müntzer is still a supporter of Luther and critical of
the celibate priesthood. He persuades the attractive novice, Ottilie von
Gersen, to leave the religious order, marry him, and move to Allstedt where
an appointment awaits him as city preacher. In Allstedt, Müntzer preaches a
fiery, subversive discourse, denouncing the rich and advocating a more just
society for the poor and oppressed. The sermon meets with widespread
popular approval, particularly Müntzer’s attack on the venal and powerful
clergy. Shortly after the preaching, in an act of defiance, followers of Müntzer
burn down the chapel of Mallerbach near Allstedt, where many superstitious
relics are housed. This gesture and other rebellious actions of the common
folk provoke the local overlord, the Duke of Mansfeld, to retaliate savagely,
and his troops destroy villages and inflict draconian punishments on the
peasant ringleaders. Müntzer is eventually summoned to appear before the
ruling Saxon princes to explain his actions. He delivers a sermon in
the chapel of the electoral castle at Allstedt to Duke John of Saxony and his
son, Crown Prince John Frederick. He warns them that if they selfishly abuse
their authority, the common people will seize power. Needless to say, Müntzer’s
words fail to impress the princes.
The peasant rebellion gathers momentum in the south, and Müntzer makes
the decision to journey from central Germany to Swabia and lend his support
to the movement. After spending some months in the region, he is summoned
back to Thuringia by the preacher Heinrich Pfeiffer. Müntzer is asked to assist in
the work of the popular reform movement that has sprung up in the city of
Mühlhausen. Under Pfeiffer and Müntzer’s leadership, the pace of religious
and political reform escalates. The old ruling town council is ousted and
replaced by the new, more democratic “Eternal Council.” A sworn association
(Bund ) is established in the town hall, pledging support for the radical cause.
This organization of select believers could be interpreted as a precursor to the
dedicated revolutionary party favored by Lenin. It is not long before
Müntzer, the committed subversive, offers his services to the armed peasants
in nearby Frankenhausen who lack an effective leader. On May 15, 1525, the
princes’ armies mount a surprise attack on the ill-equipped peasants stationed
there and swiftly massacre them. Although Müntzer is taken prisoner, he does
not break under torture and even champions the people’s cause at his execution.
The above synopsis may not do justice to the intricacies of the plot, but it
53
A useful plot synopsis was provided for cinema audiences in the following publicity brochure:
Martin Selber, Thomas Müntzer: Progress-Filmillustrierte (Berlin: Progress Film-Vertrieb, 1956), n.p.
provides an outline of the key political events involving Müntzer that are por-
trayed in the film. It is necessary now to examine more closely a few particular
scenes to gain an understanding of the cinematic methods employed to make
Müntzer’s history meaningful for its intended GDR audience.
The film opens with a camera shot of the Thuringian countryside that confirms
its essential rural theme. A solitary figure is shown striding purposely with a
walking stick—this is Müntzer the isolated, “bourgeois” intellectual not yet inte-
grated into the popular movement. The camera then cuts to a long shot of a
fleeing peasant being pursued by soldiers on horseback. This image conveys the
first impression of feudal oppression in the film. The chase between the riders
and a fugitive recalls similar pursuits between heroes and villains in American
Westerns. Historical socialist epics produced during the 1950s appear to have
shared some of the cinematic qualities found in the classic Western genre, parti-
cularly the dramatic contrast between morally upright and wicked characters.54
Götz Neumann’s camerawork in the opening sequence tried to transform the
Thuringian countryside into the grand, rugged landscape commonly associated
with the Wild West. The fleeing peasant even manages, just like his cowboy
counterpart, to evade being captured by his slow-witted pursuers on horseback.
Less dramatic action is contained in the subsequent scene. This commences
with a low-angle shot of a group of jubilant hymn-singing students walking
along a country path with their tutor, Pastor Haferitz. The low-angle shot
compels the viewer to look upwards at the assembly, and this helps to make
the group appear more heroic. Pastor Haferitz and his party have come from
Wittenberg and are on the road to Leipzig to hear Luther’s scholarly disputation
with the resolute Catholic academic, Dr. Eck. An animated discussion concern-
ing Luther is in progress, and the dialogue represents the first spoken words in
the film. The dialogue’s content is significant, because it provides the audience
with basic information about the Lutheran Reformation:
A student: Luther will free us from the Roman [Catholic] bloodsuckers and
indulgence hawkers.
A companion: So we don’t have to slave any more for the Roman weasels?
Second companion: That’s what Luther says.
Third companion: Luther belongs to the Bundschuh [Bundschuh: popular
protest movement that took its name from the peasants’ laced footwear].
Fourth companion: That’s what they say.
Markus Stübner, a student: I knew it: The common man should be free and
redeemed.55
54
Barton Byg, “DEFA and the Traditions of International Cinema,” in Allan and Sandford, eds.,
DEFA, 28–29. For an examination of German and American views of each other, see David
E. Barclay and Elisabeth Glaser-Schmidt, eds., Transatlantic Images and Perceptions: Germany and
America since 1776 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997).
55
“Thomas Müntzer, Drehbuch,” BAB, DR117/2741, Bl. 7– 8.
Just as the moderate follower of Luther, Pastor Haferitz, warns against the use of
violence to overturn the social order, Müntzer suddenly appears among the
group and interjects:
And should then God’s children continue to be whipped and covered in weals
by the lords’ bailiffs?
Pastor Haferitz: Who are you, brother?
Müntzer: A messenger of God, brother. Thomas Müntzer by name.
A peasant, who has been standing nearby, cynically observes that things will only
get better, “when we are dead.” Müntzer confidently contradicts him: “Here
and now, brother. Obviously, this can’t be accomplished by learned
disputations.”56 Viewers would glean from this statement that, unlike the
temperate, scholarly Luther, Müntzer is a man of political action who seeks
immediate change.
We learn later more specifically about Müntzer’s radical ideas at the sermon
he makes in 1523 before the congregation of St. John’s Church, Allstedt. The
scene opens with a wide camera shot of the church’s interior crammed full of
attentive listeners. The congregation is so vast that the church’s large doors
are open to allow the throng outside to hear the message. Initially, as the
camera pans across his audience, only Müntzer’s words are audible, and the
crowd’s reactions are revealed. In some instances, brief close-ups focus on
particular peasants with a weather-beaten look who resemble characters in six-
teenth-century paintings portrayed by artists such as Lucas Cranach. The
common folk are shown responding favorably to Müntzer’s preaching:
A peasant: The new vicar speaks just like the archangel.
A female onlooker: . . . and he sounds so clear . . . so from the heart.57
Western filmmakers would most likely have filmed this exchange by individ-
ual close-ups alone, whereas the GDR cameraman chose to concentrate on
having both in the same frame, thus accentuating the possibility of comradeship.
People’s reactions were an important component of this scene’s overall style,
because Marxist cinematic principles demanded that the individual personality
had to relate positively to the masses.58 Throughout the entire scene, the
camera concentrates more on the congregation than on Müntzer to underline
the centrality of the crowd in history. Müntzer’s harsh words denouncing
the corrupt, exploitative feudal system ring out from the pulpit:
. . . when the children cry out for bread, they are told to seek manna
from heaven and the heavenly rights . . . while the worldly rights of
56
Ibid., Bl. 10.
57
Ibid., Bl. 63.
58
Schenk, ed., Das zweite Leben der Filmstadt Babelsberg, 108.
the powerful give them everything and yet take everything from the
common man.
His sermon launches into a specific anti-clerical diatribe and uses examples from
the Old Testament to demonstrate how the Church tricks and deludes the
people:
The priests of Baal wanted to make the people blind and stupid by hanging
idolatrous, glittering, graven images in the churches. No, God is not in
dead wood and stone. God is in your works, in your hearts, in your reason. . .59
The reference to “your reason” suggests that Müntzer held novel, rationalist
views critical of religion, and this reveals the direct influence of Smirin’s histori-
cal perspective on the script. Smirin, following Engels’ interpretation, argued
that, since religion was the only form of communication the populace could
comprehend, Müntzer used theology essentially as a tactic to bring the
common people around to his radical, materialistic way of thinking.60
Müntzer, therefore, appears as a modern, rather than a medieval thinker, who
anticipates the doctrines of later revolutionaries.
During the sermon, Müntzer is made to express ideas that are distinctly
Marxist: “And it will come to pass as it is written in Daniel, Chapter 7: Power
shall be given to the common people . . .”61 These words succinctly summarize
revolutionary notions about the role of the masses in history, and their ability to
establish eventually a society in which the lower classes will triumph over their
exploiters. It is not until later on in the film that another central component of
communist thought is expressed: the re-distribution of property. While addres-
sing a crowd in 1525 outside Mühlhausen’s town hall—a city that he will try to
transform into a communist theocracy—a triumphant Müntzer announces:
“Omnia sunt communia” (All things are to be held in common).62
The scenes set in Mühlhausen do not only demonstrate Müntzer’s abilities at
political transformation, but they also make the audience aware of weaknesses
that will ultimately destroy his whole project. The blame for the popular move-
ment’s eventual defeat could not be placed on Müntzer, however, for this
would seriously undermine his status as a revolutionary hero. This dilemma is
resolved by the suggestion, made in the film, the failure was caused by dissension
and treachery among the “bourgeois” councilors. Some local officials are shown
59
“Thomas Müntzer, Drehbuch,” BAB, DR117/2741, Bl. 63–64.
60
Smirin, Die Volksreformation, 87–96.
61
“Thomas Müntzer, Drehbuch,” BAB, DR117/2741, Bl. 65. Müntzer cited this radical prophecy
in a number of his works, particularly in the letters written in May 1525 to the people of Eisenach
and to the community of Erfurt. See Michael G. Baylor, ed., Revelation and Revolution: Basic Writings
of Thomas Müntzer (London and Toronto: Lehigh University Press, 1993), 193, 197.
62
“Thomas Müntzer, Drehbuch,” BAB, DR117/2741, Bl. 157. At the confession made prior to his
execution, Müntzer claimed: “All property should be held in common . . . and should be distributed
to each according to his needs.” (Quoted in Baylor, ed., Revelation and Revolution, 200).
to be reluctant to participate in Müntzer’s egalitarian society. At one point,
Councilor Wettich indignantly remarks, “Should everything be in common
with everybody? Does that mean my house, my cloth warehouse, and my
wife. . .?”63
Later on, while Müntzer and Pfeiffer hold a council meeting where military
preparations to aid the peasants’ cause are discussed, two officials can be seen
whispering and exchanging knowing glances that suggest duplicity.64 Sub-
sequently, in a scene set at the Frankenhausen peasant encampment, the rebels
make the grim discovery that someone has tampered with their ammunition
in Mühlhausen.65 The cannonballs sent out to them from the city are the incor-
rect size and therefore unusable. It is also made apparent during the Frankenhau-
sen encampment scenes, that some councilors, who had originally declared their
support for Müntzer’s party, are making secret forays into the princes’ camp
where they try to undermine the people’s cause.66 The decision to make the
urban middle classes responsible for the popular movement’s collapse would
have met with approval from the Party’s functionaries, for it corresponded
with Marxist orthodoxy. Smirin, in particular, had argued that the Peasants’
War failed because of betrayal by Germany’s bourgeoisie.67 At this time,
Western historians showed little interest in the Peasants’ War, and Günther
Franz’s 1933 study still constituted the major interpretation in the Federal
Republic. In sharp contrast to the Marxist perspective, Franz blamed the
failure on the peasants’ lack of effective leadership.68
Although the radical organization did not succeed, Müntzer is, of course,
portrayed in the film as proud and defiant in defeat. He maintains his dignity
and rebellious spirit to the very end. While on the scaffold, and moments
before the executioner’s sword is wielded, he confidently predicts:
. . . and just as the power of the princes will come to an end . . . so a realm of
justice will begin to flourish just like golden wheat . . . for the common man
. . . by the common man.69
In death, Müntzer foresees that a free and equal society for the masses will even-
tually be brought about. A GDR audience would be expected to assume that the
kind of utopian classless world envisaged by Müntzer was rapidly approaching
63
“Thomas Müntzer, Drehbuch,” BAB, DR117/2741, Bl. 150.
64
Ibid., 175. The instructions in the script state: “Mit Blicken verständigen sich die
Verräter . . . .”
65
Ibid., Bl. 214–15.
66
Ibid., Bl. 196–97. Councilors Qualm and Othera were both engaged in such treacherous
actions.
67
Smirin, Die Volksreformation, 5, 652–53.
68
For discussion of Franz’s interpretation of the causes of the peasants’ failure in 1525, see Müller,
Diktatur und Revolution, 85.
69
“Thomas Müntzer, Drehbuch,” BAB, DR117/2741, Bl. 269.
fruition in East Germany. Promotional materials certainly tried to ensure that

viewers interpreted the film in this light. They emphasized that Müntzer’s sacri-
fice had not been futile, and the work he began was now being accomplished in
the GDR.70
The film itself does not end with Müntzer’s martyrdom, however. The final
episode focused instead on a meeting in southern Germany between Otti,
Müntzer’s wife, and a group of radical peasants proudly displaying their
banners. Otti has brought with her Müntzer’s writings, so that the rebel’s
ideas will live on in popular memory. In the very last lines of the closing
scene, a brief message from Müntzer is read out loud by Schwabenhannes, his
loyal peasant follower from the south:
Dear brothers . . . we must sleep no longer . . . the master [God] wants to stage
his play . . . go at the scoundrels now . . . at them as long as there is daylight . . .
you must reach out your hands to your brothers across the Main . . . the whole
of Germany must get involved in the play.71
The words “you must reach out your hands to your brothers across the Main”
were a heartfelt plea for national unity among sixteenth-century Germans.
These nationalist sentiments were obviously included in the film because
they corresponded with the political priorities of the leadership for German
unification. Many GDR citizens during the 1950s also shared a desire for reuni-
fication, but not necessarily under the direction of a socialist regime as favored
by the SED Politburo. While the appeal for German unity at the film’s
conclusion may have met with considerable approval from loyal party activists,
there is no way of knowing how the wider society might have responded
to this message. East German cinema was so tightly controlled and influenced
by the state that accurate, impartial information about audiences’ reactions is
impossible to obtain, even if the regime had taken the trouble to canvass the
viewing public.72
Before audiences had the opportunity to see the completed film, it required
final ratification from the party functionaries. A committee met to consider the
film on April 11, 1956, and subjected it to quite harsh criticism. Two episodes,
in particular, were singled out because it was thought they might induce a
70
Selber observed in his brochure, Thomas Müntzer, “While the tragic end of Germany’s first
popular rebellion is deeply shocking, a feeling of pride also remains with us after the film.
Thomas Müntzer had not lived in vain. We have completed his work in our time” (n.p.).
71
“Thomas Müntzer, Drehbuch,” BAB, DR117/2741, Bl. 271. This letter was largely based on
the often-quoted one that Müntzer wrote to the people of Allstedt in April 1525. Baylor, ed., in
Revelation and Revolution, 226 (n. 111), suggests Müntzer viewed the rebellion “as a divinely
staged play.”
72
Alan L. Nothnagle, in Building the East German Myth: Historical Mythology and Youth Propaganda in
the German Democratic Republic, 1945– 1989 (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1999), 35,
observes, “The SED was always leery of public opinion polls.”
negative response from the general public: the Mallerbach scene and the battle
sequences at Frankenhausen.73 For some committee members, the undisci-
plined, iconoclastic fury displayed by the common folk in Mallerbach Chapel
may have conjured up unpleasant memories of East Germany’s popular uprising
in June 1953. The scenes of mass slaughter at Frankenhausen were especially
gloomy, and it was, of course, impossible to interpret them in the positive,
optimistic terms demanded of “socialist realism.” Other aspects of the film
were criticized, particularly the presentation of history. Committee members,
such as Anton Ackermann and Dr. Wilkening, felt that the causes, course, and
historical significance of the Peasants’ War should have been dealt with in a
clearer, more scholarly, and convincing manner.74 While DEFA’s leading
party functionaries were not completely satisfied with the finished product,
the film was approved for general release. Too much time, energy, and money
had been expended on this ambitious project, and the committee members
were left with little choice of alternative action to take. Their options were
limited further, because it had been already decided to open DEFA’s prestigious
tenth anniversary celebrations with the film. This lavish ceremony, intended to
celebrate DEFA’s continuous socialist achievements at the cinema, was held in
Berlin on May 10, 1956. Leading GDR dignitaries, including Prime Minister
Otto Grotewohl and the Culture Minister, Johannes Becher, attended the gath-
ering. After the film was shown, representatives from a collective farm named
in Müntzer’s honor appeared on the stage.75 They were meant to draw the
audience’s attention to an essential message of the film: Müntzer’s radical
vision of a society without large-scale landed property ownership by the
ruling classes was being realized in the GDR, particularly in its collective farms.
Reviews that appeared in the GDR press following the premiere were, for the
most part, favorable. Müntzer’s call for national unity (“you must reach out your
hands to your brothers. . .”) was frequently singled out as one of the film’s main
messages. This was only to be expected, given the widespread interest at the time
in the national question and the desire for some kind of German reunification.
The press was almost unanimous in its praise for the performance by the
Hamburg stage actor, Wolfgang Stumpf, in the role of Müntzer. Der Morgen,
an East Berlin paper, noted that Müntzer was portrayed, “not [as] a fanatic,
not [as] a solemn hero. . .” but as a convincing “historical figure given new
life. . .”76 For a regional newspaper in Karl-Marx Stadt, Stumpf ’s performance
73
“Staatliches Komitee für Filmwesen-Filmkontrolle: Protokoll Nr. 157/56,” April 11, 1956,
Bundesarchiv/Filmarchiv, Berlin, DR1/MfK-HV 162, Bl. 1.
74
Ibid., Bl. 2. Both Ackermann and Wilkening had attended some of the pre-production script
meetings. They must, therefore, be partly to blame if the finished product did not live up to their
expectations.
75
Hellberg was present at the ceremony and describes it in his book Mit scharfer Optik, 184– 87.
76
Quoted in ibid., 188. A useful collection of reviews of the film can be found in the
newspaper-clippings file of the Bundesarchiv/Filmarchiv, Berlin: “Thomas Müntzer,” Nr. 16895 (1).
demonstrated that he was “the living Müntzer, the one who is never vanquished,
never dies, just as Engels saw him and we honor him.”77 To a present-day audi-
ence, Stumpf ’s acting appears very mannered. He was prone to grand gestures
and raised his voice aggressively when expounding radical ideas. The stage
actor lacked film experience, and this partly explains his rather wooden, theatri-
cal performance. Artistic political restrictions were also placed on Stumpf ’s
rendering of character, however, because it had to conform to the dictates of
“socialist realism.” Heroes in “socialist realist” dramas were meant to possess
the following positive qualities: dedication, conviction, comradeship, optimism
and, above all, commitment to the party.78 These dramatic prescriptions tended
to produce protagonists who were fundamentally one-dimensional and lacked
any psychological depth or complexity. All their energies were usually narrowly
focused on one ultimate goal: the creation of the socialist utopia.79 Stumpf ’s
performance fitted comfortably into this mold and was duly praised by the
East German press.
One of the few critical reviews appeared in Berlin, a quality paper aimed more
at an intellectual readership, and was written by the influential journalist,
Hermann Otto.80 While he approved of the presentation of Müntzer, Otto’s
review was more sophisticated than most and found fault with issues such as
the film’s visual style. Otto adopted the vague criteria of “socialist realism” to cri-
ticize the director’s use of color photography to try and replicate the manner of
painting practiced by sixteenth-century artists such as Grünewald and Cranach.
According to Otto, the attempt was questionable, because these painters had
idealized nature in their works and were unlikely to provide observers with an
accurate representation of “historical reality.” The audience’s ability to compre-
hend the historical issues was also considered, and Otto felt the film would pose
great difficulties for viewers without adequate prior knowledge of the Peasants’
War. A non-professional critic and ordinary member of the general public,
such as Erich Hinz from Perleberg, shared this misgiving when he wrote to his
local paper on July 6, 1956, about the film.81 Hinz claimed the work had
made a deep impression on him, but subsequent discussion with fellow
77
Volksstimme Karl-Marx Stadt, May 19, 1956; Bundesarchiv/Filmarchiv, Berlin: “Thomas
Müntzer,” Nr. 16895 (1).
78
For a very perceptive discussion of male heroes in “socialist realism” films, see John Haynes, New
Soviet Man: Gender and Masculinity in Stalinist Soviet Cinema (Manchester and New York: Manchester
University Press, 2003), 41– 62.
79
This kind of hero has little time for romance and needs to focus instead on more “urgent” tasks
such as political agitation. In the film, Müntzer’s rather formal relationship with his wife never strays
beyond brief displays of affection. Expressions of sexual passion are completely absent from the
performance.
80
“Zum Müntzer-Film der DEFA: Eine Tat von nationaler Wirksamkeit,” Berlin, June 1, 1956,
Bundesarchiv/Filmarchiv, Berlin: “Thomas Müntzer,” Nr. 16895 (1).
81
“Unsere Leser schreiben zum Film: ‘Thomas Müntzer,’” July 6, 1956, Bundesarchiv/
Filmarchiv, Berlin: “Thomas Müntzer,” Nr. 16895 (1). Hinz addressed his letter to the paper’s
viewers revealed that many had not fully understood it. He ascribed their con-
fused reaction to a lack of historical knowledge about the subject matter,
especially from a Marxist perspective. This observation had validity, for there
was a serious shortage of readily available East German literature on Müntzer
and the Peasants’ War. The leadership had, in fact, proposed, as far back as
October 1951, that a multi-volume series of textbooks be produced, chronicling
Germany’s history from a Marxist-Leninist interpretation.82 This ambitious
project took far longer to complete than expected, however, and Max Stein-
metz’s volume on the Reformation era was not even published until 1965.83
Given the paucity, besides Engels’ very general work, of popular histories
concerned with the sixteenth century, it was probable that 1950s’ audiences
would have been mostly woefully ignorant about the historical themes examined
in the film.
Cinema viewers would have had considerably less difficulty with the two
history films devoted to the GDR’s other great mythic hero, Ernst Thälmann.
Both the Thälmann films were, without doubt, far more accessible and easier
to comprehend because they were set in the recent Weimar and Nazi past.
The party leadership regarded these productions as an unqualified success, and
millions of East Germans flocked to see the films. Attendance figures can,
though, be misleading, for it is unclear if the majority of viewers decided to
go to the cinema on their own initiative or as a direct result of party-arranged
pressure. When important historical films were shown in the GDR, a significant
proportion of the audience was frequently made up of mobilized socialist
brigades of factory workers and school parties bused in from local colleges.
While attendance details cannot be totally trusted to provide a reliable guide
to a film’s genuine popularity in East Germany, they are still of use to historians.
Information on ticket sales can, at least, provide us with an indication about the
regime’s likely assessment of a particular film and whether the figures were in
sufficient numbers for a production to be counted a triumph. Attendance
figures have, in fact, survived for Thomas Müntzer. The data, contained in a
secret file kept by Anton Ackermann, shows that, after one year and thirty-
two weeks, the film had been viewed by at least 1,937,842 individuals.84
While this total may, on first sight, appear impressive, it does not compare par-
ticularly well when placed alongside the viewing figures for a film released
film club section, “Achtung! Aufgeblendet.” The letter is significant, because it represents the only
qualitative evidence of audience reaction that the author was able to find in the archive.
82
Sabrow, Das Diktat des Konsenses, 184.
83
Max Steinmetz, Deutschland von 1476 bis 1648 (Berlin: Deutscher Verlag der Wissenschaften,
1965).
84
“Nachlass Anton Ackermann,” Stiftung Archiv der Parteien und Massenorganisationen der
DDR im Bundesarchiv, Berlin (SAPMO-BArch), NY4109/94, Bl. 77.
around the same time, the love story, A Berlin Romance. During the identical
time span, 2,998,452 persons had watched this work.85 Comparisons are less
favorable with another historical film set in the sixteenth century and released
in January 1957: The Adventures of Till Ulenspiegel. The film focused on Till, a
comic rebel, and his exploits in the Low Countries during the Spanish occu-
pation. After nearly a year (fifty and a half weeks), the viewing figures stood
at 3,242,720.86 Finally, a more appropriate comparison can be made with a
work of similar stature to Müntzer: the first Thälmann film. Three million visitors
had already viewed Ernst Thälmann—Son of His Class in the initial month of its
opening at the cinema.87 By way of contrast, in its first three months, the total
attendance figures for Thomas Müntzer were 1,499,880.88 The film must have
been something of a disappointment for the state authorities, since DEFA’s
own internal viewing figures suggested it had failed to capture the public’s
imagination in a similar manner to the Thälmann biopic. It is highly likely
that the film would have fared better on its release if the audience had possessed
greater historical knowledge of the Peasants’ War era—a point recognized more
astutely by an ordinary citizen such as Erich Hinz than by the aloof cultural poli-
ticians at DEFA. They were mostly too preoccupied with ensuring that Thomas
Müntzer conformed to the narrow aesthetics of “socialist realism.”
The film was not only shown in East German cinemas, but was also given its
television premiere on June 29, 1956.89 Television would, of course, eventually
overtake the cinema as the principal medium for the GDR’s propaganda, but in
1956—the year when the State Television Service (Deutscher Fernsehfunk) was
officially opened—the audience was tiny. By the end of 1956, only one house-
hold per hundred possessed a television from the 71,000 available sets. In 1983,
television played a far more central role during the Luther anniversary when it
broadcast the five-part historical biography of the reformer. Sadly for the GDR’s
program-makers, this production was largely met with public indifference, and
the audience viewing figures were extremely low.90 The regime appears to have
encountered difficulties in successfully adapting for the screen the biographies of
both Luther and Müntzer—the two main sixteenth-century protagonists that
the GDR attempted, at various stages in its forty-year existence, to incorporate
into a progressive revolutionary tradition.
85
Ibid. Gerhard Klein, dir., Eine Berliner Romanze, DEFA, 1956.
86
Ibid. Gérard Philipe and Joris Ivens, dirs., Die Abenteuer des Till Ulenspiegel, DEFA and Ariane-
Film (Paris), 1957.
87
Schittly, Zwischen Regie und Regime, 68.
88
“Nachlass,” SAPMO-BArch, NY4109/94, Bl. 77.
89
I am grateful to Herr Karl Obermanns of the Deutsches Rundfunkarchiv Babelsberg for
supplying me with this information. For a brief, but useful, discussion of East German television,
see David Childs, The GDR: Moscow’s German Ally (London: Unwin Hyman, 1988), 238–42.
90
Dähn and Heise, eds., Luther und die DDR, 149–54.
The present article has tried to demonstrate that DEFA’s 1956 production of
Thomas Müntzer constitutes a relevant historical source for scholars who are inter-
ested in exploring the connections between history, politics, and culture in the
former GDR. An examination of the film and its pre-production arrangements
brings into focus some of the political priorities and cultural concerns of the com-
munist authorities. Thomas Müntzer provided the East German rulers with what
seemed like an ideal vehicle for focusing, in an indirect, allegorical manner, on
certain prevailing contemporary political preoccupations, such as the desire in
the GDR for some form of German national reunification. The film could simi-
larly be used to convey the state-supporting message that the utopian society con-
ceived of by the long-dead radical hero of sixteenth-century Germany had now
been realized.91 It is also possible to relate this cinematic text to the cultural politics
of the GDR that utilized history to help legitimate the regime and construct new
socialist identities within the population. A film about Müntzer—one of the
GDR’s mythic founding fathers—would have appeared a very appropriate instru-
ment to employ for such purposes. The administration confidently envisaged that
the film would go some significant way toward making East Germans aware and
proud of their progressive historical heritage. Unfortunately, during the 1950s,
this progressive history, especially the phase concerned with the Reformation
and the Peasants’ War era, had still not been thoroughly researched by East
German scholars, and appropriate popular studies were in short supply. The inade-
quacy of the general historical information available on the early sixteenth century
is likely to have created problems for the audience, and it may account for the film
not receiving the rapturous public response the leadership had anticipated when
the project was first approved. Finally, the film’s somewhat pedestrian “socialist
realist” visual style may have failed to engage many audiences, because it presented
the past as a rather dull, unexciting place. Clearly, the cinematic depiction of East
Germany’s progressive history, particularly Thomas Müntzer and the
German Peasants’ War of 1525, proved to be a far more formidable enterprise
than had been anticipated by the high-ranking political functionaries.
They perhaps unwisely overestimated the pliability and passivity of the
GDR’s cinema-going public; however, this would certainly not be the only
occasion when the East German dictatorship demonstrated a serious lack of
understanding of its ordinary citizens.
UNIVERSITY OF PORTSMOUTH (UNITED KINGDOM )
91
The film may also have helped to endorse the GDR’s rather unpopular military policies. Thomas
Müntzer was released in the same year that the militarization of the GDR got effectively under way
with the establishment in January 1956 of the National People’s Army (Nationale Volksarmee). The
film’s gruesome depiction of the peasants’ slaughter by the well-equipped, more professional
princes’ armies at Frankenhausen was a grim reminder to GDR citizens of what could befall a
people that lacked military preparedness.

History Politics and East German Film The Thomas Muntzer 1956 Socialist Epic

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Central European History 39 (2006), 30–55.

Copyright # Conference Group for Central European History of the American

History, Politics, and East German Film:

in the former German Democratic Republic (GDR), unlike

fruition in East Germany. Promotional materials certainly tried to ensure that

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