Review: The Dreadful History and Judgement of God on Thomas Müntzer, by Andrew Drummond, Verso 2024
Look: the origin of usury, theft and robbery lies with our lords and princes, who treat all creatures as their own: the fish in the water, the birds in the air, the plants on the earth - everything must be theirs.
On 15 May 1525, a few thousand German peasants, under the rainbow flag of the Peasants’ Revolt, faced two armies of mercenaries, infantry, cavalry and artillery, who duly annihilated them at a place afterwards known as the Schlachtberg (Slaughter Mountain). One of their leaders was Thomas Müntzer, subsequently captured, tortured and executed. He was an intellectual, a Reformation minister who composed hymns and services in German, rather than Latin, so that his working-class congregation could actually understand what was going on (“It can no longer be tolerated that men attribute some power to Latin words, as if they were the words of magicians, nor that the poor people should leave the church even more ignorant than when they entered”). How then did he arrive at the Schlachtberg?
Andrew Drummond writes both fiction and history (sometimes, as in his novels Novgorod the Great and The Books of the Incarceration of the Lady Grange, both at once). This is emphatically history and, though written in his usual lively style, is scrupulous in its evaluation of sources, its distinction between what is known and what can be speculated (important in a life for which there are several poorly documented periods) and ardent in its zeal to correct the “veritable cottage industry of falsification” that has been spread about Müntzer ever since his death, mainly by Dr Luther and his allies.
The basis of Müntzer’s theology, and what alienated him from both Catholics and Lutherans of his day, was his belief in “the opposition between ‘living voice’ and ‘dead word’, present and past. This opposition was the most basic dialectic in Müntzer’s thought, and from it can be traced much of his other philosophy. He argues that the work of God did not stop when Jesus died, but that it continued and continues in the spirits of true Christians. These Christians perpetuate the ‘living Gospel’ in themselves, as people predestined to execute the will of God on earth.”
Or as he put it, “Where the seed falls on good ground, that is in the heart which is full of the fear of God, that is then the paper and parchment upon which God writes the real spiritual word, not with ink, but with His living finger”. It followed that he disagreed fundamentally with those who felt that the common man’s role in church was to listen to what his betters told him and leave doctrinal points to be argued between scholars - “the scholars should read beautiful books, and the peasant should just listen, for faith comes through listening. Ah yes, they’ve found a nice trick there.” Hence his insistence on services in the vernacular.
Luther too had of course advocated for using the vernacular, and for other reforms, but around 1522 he rowed back quite considerably from this position, even reinstating Latin services on the somewhat ludicrous ground that this would encourage people to learn Latin. The truth was that in his quarrel with the Church he relied heavily on the support of the German aristocracy and would do or say more or less anything to avoid offending them. It is one of Müntzer’s major quarrels with him: “The fact that you were able to stand before the Empire at Worms is all thanks to the German nobility, whose mouth you have smeared well with honey”. The language of debate at the time was vitriolic and Müntzer is a match for Luther in this respect, but the difference between them is that Luther punched down while Müntzer punched up. Luther could be downright scatological about people he disliked who were below or on a level with him, but his language to the gentry - “To the most shining, high-born princes and lords, Lord Friedrich, Elector of the Roman Empire, and Johann, Duke of Saxony, Landgrave of Thuringia, and Margrave of Meissen, my dear lords…” could not be further from Müntzer addressing Count Albrecht, “Do you really think that God has less interest in his people than in you tyrants?”, or Count Ernst: “Now tell us, you miserable, wretched sack of maggots - who made you into a prince over the people whom God redeemed with his own precious blood?” Müntzer and tact never had even a nodding acquaintance.
And Müntzer, who lived among working people, could not share Luther’s contempt for them, or the Wittenbergers’ insistence that they owed total obedience to their feudal lords. Hence his presence on the Schlachtberg, while Luther was fulminating, “The peasants […] are so disloyal, false, disobedient and wanton, and plunder, rob and remove what they can, like barefaced highwaymen and murderers”. In fact Müntzer’s peasants killed very few, in comparison with the nobility. Drummond remarks of 15 May: “It is estimated that between 5,000 and 7,000 rebels died that day - the figure is understandably approximate, but surprisingly consistent over several reports - with a further 600 taken prisoner. Half of the adult male population of Frankenhausen was put to the sword. For the nobles and their troops, the affair was treated almost as a sport: two minor aristocrats sent to the campaign by Prince Joachim von Brandenburg had been commissioned by their sponsor to bring home the ear of a peasant; in a letter, they regretted that this had proved impractical.” (Luther’s comment was “Yes, it is to be regretted. But what else could one do? It is essential that the people be frightened and cowed”.)
Though the Revolt, and Müntzer’s part in it, are put down among the “failures” of history, Drummond convincingly shows how his influence survived and inspired later campaigners. And as usual, he does not feel that writing “serious” history obliges him to abandon his dry humour, which enlivens many a page: “His [Luther’s] letter also discussed infant baptism and the vexed question of whether faith can be sprinkled upon babies, coming down firmly on the fence”. I was particularly taken with the eclectic shopping list of one Glitzsch, a curate in an isolated country parish: “a selection of the latest books by reformers, various vegetable and herb seeds - beetroot, marjoram, hyssop - a measure of saffron, some assorted nails and screws and, of course, two sows and one uncastrated boar - the latter reflecting Glitzsch’s pressing need to get to grips with husbandry.”
Apparently Müntzer used his final words “not to make a full confession, as was traditional, but to warn the princes not to punish the poor any further and to take heed of the biblical Book of Kings, in which it was explained how pious rulers should act”. I am left remembering his words in yet another tactless letter to some noble or other: “And you should know that I do not fear you or anyone in the whole world in these great and just matters.”