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Power and Domination – from the Middle Ages to the Present

Grischa Vercamer is a new Heisenberg Professor at the University of Passau conducting research on the portrayal of princes in the late Middle Ages and early modern times in chronicles. In this interview, he explains what fascinates him about it and why we do well to know and remember history.

Visible traces of the Middle Ages in Passau: entrance to the main castle of Veste Oberhaus. Photos: University of Passau

Professor Grischa Vercamer, a medievalist, is the new Heisenberg Professor at the University of Passau for the History of Eastern and Central European Cultures in the Late Middle Ages and the Early Modern Period. He has spent most of his academic career in European capitals, namely Berlin, Edinburgh, Prague and Warsaw. He is also familiar with Passau: he held the Chair of Medieval History from 2018 to 2020.

Professor Grischa Vercamer

researches princes in the late Middle Ages in Eastern and Central Europe

What image of rulership of princes does medieval historiography convey?

What image of rulership of princes does medieval historiography convey?

Professor Grischa Vercamer has been Heisenberg Professor of the History of Eastern and Central European Cultures in the Late Middle Ages and Early Modern Period since January 2025. As part of the prestigious DFG funding programme, he researches the depiction of the late medieval prince in historiographical works in Bohemia, Austria and southern Germany in military and religious contexts. He also analyses the lower nobility in the territory of the Holy Roman Empire. Previously, he was a deputy professor at the TU Chemnitz and the University of Passau. He completed his doctorate at the FU Berlin and his postdoctoral thesis in medieval history at the European University Viadrina in Frankfurt/Oder.

What fascinates you about the Middle Ages?

In addition to my specific research, which of course drives and motivates me, it is also the relevance of the Middle Ages for the present day, which we can see, for example, in the fascination of many people for the architecture of that time, such as the Veste Oberhaus in Passau, the 12th-century stone bridge in Regensburg or the many Romanesque and Gothic churches and castles in Europe. In the 11th/12th century, municipal self-government also emerged, which continues to shape our cities to this day, although many people are unaware of this. The Lübeck and Magdeburg municipal laws, for example, spread far into Eastern Europe. Cities such as Kiev or Lviv in Ukraine also adopted these laws and modified them for themselves. Traces of the Middle Ages can also be found in the classic fairy tales of the Brothers Grimm, some of which were already known in the 12th/13th century, or in legends such as the Song of the Nibelungs (closely connected with Passau), which still inspire cinema films or streaming series today. All in all, it is a long epoch (500-1500) of European history, whose alterity to the present time is clearly apparent: different rites, habits, etiquette, in short: different rules of the game. And yet – simply because this history demonstrably took place in Europe, in Germany, in Passau – we find ourselves in a certain tradition with it. That is fascinating!

Why is Passau a good place to study the rule of princes in the late Middle Ages?

The powerful bishops of Passau had been in power since the Early Middle Ages and had their sights set particularly on Austria and Hungary – and I also have a research programme focusing on Eastern Central Europe. Hungary was Christianised in the 11th century, and King Stephen of Hungary was baptised. After his death, his widow Gisela returned to Passau, became abbess of the Niedernburg monastery and is buried here. In the 13th century, the power of the Bishop of Passau was once again significantly expanded: Ulrich II received a fiefdom from Frederick II and thus became a prince-bishop – the city was significantly expanded in the late Middle Ages. Unfortunately, Passau had the misfortune of a large-scale fire in the 17th century that destroyed the medieval cityscape. That is why today we have a cityscape characterised by the Baroque, but at its core (and this is also clearly visible when we look at the Veste, the Höllgasse or the Schaiblingsturm), Passau is a medieval city. And above all, Passau is located in a rich, medieval historical landscape, at the interface of Habsburg and Wittelsbach rule, which is very attractive for my research. At the university, I also find like-minded scientists and scholars – Professor Britta Kägler, Professor Andrea Sieber, Professor Thomas Kohl, as colleagues in medieval studies, Professor Thomas Wünsch, who also works on Eastern Central Europe, or Professor Christian Handschuh in church history, to name just a few. The conditions are very good for establishing a centre for pre-modern history, for example, as other universities already have.

Medieval at its core: Höllgasse in Passau's old town.

What do you want to study as part of your Heisenberg funding?

My Heisenberg project and research grant are basically a continuation of my habilitation research, which I undertook on the general representation of power in high medieval historiography in Poland, the Holy Roman Empire and England. In Passau, I would now like to look at the 14th to 16th centuries, narrow the focus to pious and religious princes and warlike princes, and of course change the research area (Bavaria, Bohemia, Austria). I had realised that a certain pre-national writing tradition slowly emerged in the 12th and 13th centuries, which then runs like a red thread partly into our time. The historians of the time copied from each other quite freely and without citing their sources – a developed understanding of intellectual property and copyright did not yet exist. But this is how a historical tradition emerged, a certain way of presenting history – for a country or even a region. The historians had to consider how they wanted to present a prince-bishop, how a Duke of Bavaria? Did I want to portray him as particularly belligerent? Or do I show him in his private life, with his pious, religious traits? Do I want to show him as a judge? Take an example from England, the well-known Richard the Lionheart. While he was on his crusade at the end of the 12th century, he was portrayed as a fantastic knight and warrior, as a great general. When he returned to England, however, the story is told of how he sat in judgement on his power-usurping brother, John Lackland, and did not take military action against him because it was apparently already believed in England in the 12th/13th century that such conflicts had to be resolved in court.

Heisenberg Professorship: A backstage look at the pre-modern historiography of princes in the late Middle Ages

Heisenberg Professorship: A backstage look at the pre-modern historiography of princes in the late Middle Ages

Professor Grischa Vercamer is the new Heisenberg Professor at the University of Passau for the History of Eastern and Central European Cultures in the Late Middle Ages and Early Modern Period. In his research, he aims to expand our understanding of the representation of the rule of princes in the late Middle Ages.

Another anecdote comes from Poland, where a Polish prince, Casimir the Just, played dice with a Polish nobleman in the 12th century, thus gambling, which was actually forbidden by the church. The prince won and the nobleman lost all his possessions, whereupon he jumped up in rage and struck the prince. Everyone present expected the prince to sentence the nobleman to death. But according to the chronicles, the prince said quite the opposite, that the nobleman had done the right thing. He, the prince, was already rich and powerful and had therefore made a mistake in taking all of the nobleman's possessions. The prince realised his mistake (and gambling itself as a mistake) through the slap in the face, and the nobleman thus made him a better ruler. Such anecdotes are not found in the Holy Roman Empire. Someone like Frederick Barbarossa is portrayed as relatively infallible in the chronicles relevant to him. One very important thing struck me again and again while reading the chronicles, and that brings us to my Heisenberg research in Passau: religion is unanimously considered to be omnipresent in the research on rule in the Middle Ages, and many chroniclers also had a spiritual background. So you would think that religious acts would play a major role in their descriptions of the ruler, for example at coronations or funerals. But that is not the case at all! This finding surprised me a lot and I would now like to investigate it further in Passau – it seems to me that research into medieval historiography (as a source group that is very central to medieval studies) can make considerable progress here.

View of the castle ruins in the Hals district of Passau, the former seat of the Counts of Hals.

Why is the county of Hals, which gave its name to the Hals district in Passau, interesting for your research?

You are referring to the second pillar of my Heisenberg research in Passau: the late medieval and early modern gentry in the Holy Roman Empire. The county of Hals, which of course belonged to the higher nobility, even became directly subject to the empire in the 13th century. It was thus not subject to the rule of the then territorial lords (Wittelsbachers, Passau bishops) and also had a vote at the imperial diets in the late Middle Ages. This made it part of a very small group – we estimate that there were around 120 princes with imperial immediacy in the High and Late Middle Ages, plus a manageable number of non-princely high-ranking nobles in the respective regions. Incidentally, the counts of Hals were given imperial immediacy by Rudolf of Habsburg, the first Roman-German king from the House of Habsburg, who, after the long phase of the interregnum (1250-1273), needed support from below against the powerful territorial rulers, who supported him locally. This is where the lower nobility comes into play. In the late Middle Ages, they made up by far the largest part of the nobility, about 1.5 to 2 percent of the population, which amounts to about 200,000 people in the German part of the Holy Roman Empire. These sat in smaller castles in the countryside and had only a local reach (not unlike the Count of Hals in the early days). In the late Middle Ages, they began to network with each other more and more, through sworn communities, unions, for example, or through knightly tournaments. Thus, an awareness of their own identity slowly emerged. Especially towards the end of the late Middle Ages, this elite class in the entire German-speaking area faced great challenges. They found themselves in a period of transformation, a term that is used today particularly for modern changes, but also seems appropriate for that time. The lower nobility had to quickly ‘reinvent’ themselves in order to avoid impoverishing themselves in their castles. There was more and more interaction with the cities (noble city courts, cross-class marriages, etc.), and a tendency began to offer their services as studied experts at the royal courts, as lawyers, sometimes also as doctors. The lower nobility had to leave their castles to do this, find new strategies for survival and living – they studied, found success as military experts and mercenary leaders, and in some cases consciously supported the religious reform movements in their sphere of influence. I find it very interesting to take a closer look at this process by examining an elite group, albeit not the highest nobility, especially since there are many valuable local individual studies on the subject in Germany, but so far there is no major synthesis. I would like to write this during the Heisenberg period. And my new professorship, which deliberately serves as a bridge between the late Middle Ages and the early modern period, is perfect for this.

A red line can be drawn from what Fox News is doing in the USA today to the medieval authors, who of course pursued a certain causa scribendi, or reason for writing.

Prof. Dr. Grischa Vercamer im Gespräch.

What parallels do you see with the present day?

What the historiographers of the time were already doing very clearly was intentional writing, or, to put it bluntly in a contemporary term, creating fake news. Simply by over-emphasising certain areas and perhaps simply leaving others aside (you didn't necessarily have to lie about that), you created a certain image of a ruler that was wanted. From what Fox News does in the USA today, for example, a red line can be drawn to the medieval authors, who of course pursued a certain causa scribendi, i.e. had a reason to write. Often, career ambitions were behind it, but sometimes also fears of not offending – not unlike our own times. In any case, we can certainly learn from the ‘tools’ of writers of the time – including the way they staged certain narratives – for our own time.

In the US, there is talk of a ‘broligarchy’, the rule of rich men. Did such structures already exist in the Middle Ages?

We are currently witnessing that oligarchic structures, which have long been associated with post-Soviet Russia, are also leading to a system of mutual enrichment and interdependence between economic and political power in the US. We can see it in the big tech companies, how an Elon Musk serves himself and shapes truth according to his own tastes through his financial power and his companies, and thus quite obviously supports the now presidential ‘deal maker’ Trump, but also profits from him. The medieval emperors and kings also relied on large economic houses of the time. These included, for example, the Fuggers, an old Augsburg trading house, or the rich Nuremberg merchants. They lent money and received privileges in return. A violent example is provided by the time of the Black Plague in the 14th century, in the course of which an estimated one-third of Europe's population died. The Jews were often blamed for the deaths (well water poisoning, etc.), even though most of the upper classes knew that this was nonsense. In most cases, the anti-Semitism was based on pure self-interest on the part of people and urban classes who primarily wanted to get rid of their debts or seek profit. In November 1349, the Nuremberg merchants travelled to Prague to see Charles IV and obtained a kind of certificate of good conduct (immunity from punishment) for a pogrom that took place a little later – they wanted to rebuild the Jewish quarter, which was very centrally located in Nuremberg, on the site of today's main market in Nuremberg city centre, but of course it had to be cleared first. A win-win situation – Charles IV received a lot of money for it, the quarter was razed to the ground, hundreds of Jews were murdered. Incidentally, this was done against better knowledge: Charles IV and the Nuremberg patricians knew very well that the Jews were not to blame for the plague – as king, Charles was actually supposed to protect the Jews. Neither side cared; valid legal standards were bent and flimsy arguments were invented.

Wealthy entrepreneurs – in this respect, the Middle Ages are certainly no different from today – have always sought to exert political influence, prioritising profit maximisation over the eyes. It has always been good for the political leadership of a country to contain this and not to disinhibit it (which we see in many places today).

This is a good example of the power of the oligarchs of the time, even if the term is rarely used in medieval research. It was a monetary economy that increasingly emanated from central families and on which the great princes ultimately depended if they wanted to finance their lavish courts or their military campaigns. The Jews, some of whom were wealthy money lenders (but often also simple tradespeople), never had the power and standing that Christian merchants had. Because of their religion, they were a highly vulnerable group from the 11th century at the latest (when the first urban pogroms occurred in the context of the crusade movement) and could be marginalised very quickly. Wealthy entrepreneurs – and in this respect, the Middle Ages are certainly no different from today – have always sought to exert political influence and have prioritised maximising profits over the eyes. It has always been in the interest of a country's political leaders to contain this and not to disinhibit it (which we are seeing in many places today). Without romanticising the Middle Ages too much, however, it must be stated – perhaps in direct contrast to the current trend – that the important political power at that time always emanated from the tradition-conscious nobility, who often looked down on the filthy lucre and the all-too-open pursuit of profit (even if necessary) and already pursued certain norms and values. That is where the saying ‘Noblesse oblige’ comes from, ‘Nobility obliges’.

Does history repeat itself?

For Christmas, my wife gave me a Polish mug with the inscription: ‘How often must I repeat myself? – History.’ (Ile razy mam się powtarzać — Historia). I like it very much, including the saying, but perhaps find it a bit too apodictic, since history does not repeat itself one-to-one. At the moment, there are many people who point out that we are actually experiencing a Weimar period 2.0. One of the central tasks of historical studies in a democracy is to alert society to similar structures from the past when there is a danger to democracy. However, the structural conditions were quite different a hundred years ago, starting with the age and self-image of the then very young democracy. And yet it is true that we would do well to consider the slow processes of disintegration that beset the Weimar Republic – the political and social mechanisms in such situations are very similar indeed. Another area in which history supposedly repeats itself, but where we must be careful, is in questions of identity – traditionally, the study of history has often served as a way to identify with a nation's ‘great’ past. Of course, it can and should strengthen (regional) identities through tradition and historical contextualisation. However, we must be careful that this identification does not appear too (nationally) exclusive. In Germany, you can be fascinated by Frederick Barbarossa, in Hungary by Stephen I and in Poland by Bolesław the Brave, and devote yourself to the history of the rulers of the time, whose subjects still bear the same names today (namely Germans, Hungarians and Poles). However, in a modern federation of states such as Europe, you should not succumb to the illusion that you are in line with the rulers mentioned above and that you possibly rise above their national neighbours. To take it to the extreme: Vladimir I of Kievan Rus', who lived a thousand years ago, has very little to do with Vladimir Putin. Here, too, the repetition of history is often invoked along the lines of: an earlier great empire must also have a right to imperial claims today. In this respect, we would do well to know history and also to recognise that it is remembered differently elsewhere (for this reason alone, it cannot be repeated exactly), and to take this with us into the present and learn from it.

 

This text was machine-translated from German.

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