Thomas Bailey33-630 History of Modern GermanyApril 5, 2011Dr. Curtis Richardson

Battle of the Sexes in Weimar Germany

Weimar Germany, despite its many faults, is considered to be one of the renaissance-eras

of German culture. Even with the wholesale importation of American culture, the freedoms

enjoyed between 1919 and 1933 transformed American tropes into uniquely German

expressions. One of the benefits often heralded about the Weimar years is the emancipation of

women. The Weimar Constitution allowed women the right to vote and by extension opened

new possibilities for careers in the public sector, arts, academia, etc. In addition, the spreading

use of contraceptives was seen to free women from their servile places in the home.1 The

popular perception is that Adolf Hitler’s appointment as Chancellor of Germany ushered a return

to kinder, küche, kirche – defeating a great moment in women’s liberation. Granting the

franchise to women was a major step for equality, but the assertion that the Weimar-era was a

truncated advance needs to be more thoroughly examined.

The German ethos did not change with the imposition of a new constitution in August

1919; masculine hegemony was retained. Even within the arts, which are often the national

critic of prevailing social norms, the liberation of women was something for which to be fought..

There existed great female artists of the period (e.g. Thea von Harbou, Mary Wigman, Hanna

Höchs, and Maragarete Schütte-Lihotzky), but they were forced to struggle in a primarily male-

dominated environment. An imposed liberation of women onto the male-dominated society of

Germany did not ease the tensions; instead, it helped spread the flames for the rise of National

Socialism. The battleground between the sexes can be seen clearly in the arts. Germany’s

1 Willem Melching, “’A New Morality’: Left-Wing Intellectuals on Sexuality in Weimar Germany” Journal of Contemporary History 25, No. 1 (January 1990): 73-75.

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experience with the arts during the postwar period attempted to break old ways and perceptions,

but lying within the avant-garde, the past existed simultaneously with the present.

One of the areas in which German culture excelled was in pioneering the new cinematic

technology. The experimentation done in Germany became the models for Hollywood as

directors and actors fled Nazi-Germany for America and inspired a new generation. Also

cinema’s popular emphasis provides an important perspective into the psyche of Germany

between 1919-1933. The critically acclaimed Metropolis (1927) will therefore provide a primary

lens to view the roles of men and women. In addition To Beauty (1922), the work of the painter

and dancer Otto Dix, will also be explored. In so doing it will be shown that the Expressionist

drive for experience, though liberating in many respects, was unable to overcome the inertia of

masculine hegemony.

On the surface, Metropolis is a movie exploring the disparity between the working class

and the wealthy. It is not a Marxist film; instead it argues for a partnership between the

proletariat and the bourgeois. The message that is voiced in the film by the prophetess Maria

(portrayed by Brigitte Helm), and which is fulfilled through Freder Fredersen (portrayed by

Gustav Fröhlich) at the end of the film, is that “There can be no understanding between the hands

and the brain unless the heart acts as mediator.”2 In one sense this can be viewed as depicting a

great partnership between man and woman – the female influence is taming the harsher realities

of life. Yet on another level Maria is only the herald of the message, she cannot be the savior.

In the opening scenes of the movie the viewer is presented with a glimpse of life in both

the upper (realm of the rich) and lower (realm of the worker) worlds. The lower world is

depicted as drudgery with columns of workers waddling to and from their work and with heads

2 Metropolis, directed by Fritz Lang (1927; Berlin: Universum Film AG), Internet Archive, accessed March 21, 2011, DivX file, 1:56:47, http://www.archive.org/download/Metropolis1925-LongerVersion/Metropolis1925.divx.

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bowed, lives are dictated solely by the whistles of the industrial plants, and the workers’ purpose

in life is to run the machines which sustain the upper world. The uniform of the worker appears

to be a paragon of universality – loose fitting pants and shirts that provide no view of the bodily

form beneath and a workers’ cap with all hair tucked inside. The Eternal Garden however

exemplifies the upper world with flowing fountains. This privileged world is filled with life,

gaiety, and young lovers pursuing one another in an idyllic world. It is easy to identify men and

women here, dressed in fashionable clothes.

Within a short span of six and a half minutes much has already been expressed

concerning the role of women. Neither world holds much hope for them. In an attempt to

humanize the mass of workers and to have the audience identify with them, Director Fritz Lang

(1890-1976) zoomed in on individual workers performing their jobs and walking en masse. It is

an effective cinematic technique, but it unintentionally highlights the dearth of female workers,

who in 1925 were 23 percent of Weimar Germany’s industrial workers.3 In fact the first

appearance of a woman from the underground world is when Maria brings a group of children to

the Eternal Garden and tells the perplexed crowd present, which included Freder, to “Look, these

are your brothers” while waving her hands over the children.4 Maria in this scene appears to be

performing two significant functions: acting as a prophetess and as a teacher to the children.

Both roles are novel for a woman because only recently had women been given a real voice in

the public realm or been entrusted with the education of grade-school children.5 Nevertheless

Maria is the only woman from the workers’ realm depicted until the final half-hour of the film.

3 Detlev Peukert, The Weimar Republic: The Crisis of Classical Modernity, translated by Richard Deveson (New York: Hill and Wang, 1987), 96.4 Metropolis, 7:24.5 Claudia Koonz, “Conflicting Allegiances: Political Ideology and Women Legislators in Weimar Germany,” Signs 1, No. 3 (Spring 1976): 665; Peukert, 96.

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In these final scenes women are not individuals, but are part of the workers’ mob that destroys

the machines. The socialist utopia of equality amongst all people appears absent.6

The first image of the privileged world seen in the Eternal Garden is a peacock. The

peacock conjures images of pride and the pursuit of a mate – masculine dominant imagery. It is

reinforced by a woman in revealing clothes running across the screen being chased by Freder.

At first it appears to be two young lovers living life to the fullest and demonstrating the greater

sexual freedoms for both sexes in the Weimar Years.7 Given the previous imagery, it is a

reasonable assumption to conclude that the sexual encounter is more for Freder than the

unnamed woman. During and after World War I, some psychiatrists were concerned with the

rising prevalence of deviant sexual behavior (i.e. fetishes and homosexuality). The source of the

problem was seen to be the war itself. The war, being foreign to genteel manners and civility,

warped the minds of lesser men. The solution, advocated in popular articles, was through

women fulfilling their traditional roles so they “would win their husbands back to the prewar

heterosexual camp.”8 The kiss between Freder and the girl never occurs, a noise catches his ear

and he looks toward the opening door to the garden. The lack of character development for the

unnamed girl renders it impossible to be certain whether she is a ‘new woman’ or not – the cause

or the cure. The expressions on their faces when the figure from the door emerges are telling.

The woman’s expression is one of horror, while Freder’s is more enigmatic (a mixture of love,

surprise, and interest)9. The reason for their expressions is unknown. Freder’s companion, if she

is the ‘new woman,’ may be frightened because of the domestic scene with Maria surrounded by

6 Manifesto for International Women’s’ Day, “To All Working Women!,” Die Kommunistin 6 (March 25, 1921) in The Weimar Republic Sourcebook, ed. by Anton Kaes, Martin Jay, and Edward Dimenberg (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1994), 198-199.7 Richard McCormick, “Private Anxieties/Public Projections: ‘New Objectivity,’ Male Subjectivity, and Weimar Cinema,” Women in German Yearbook 10 (1994): 4-8.8 Jason Crouthamel, “Male Sexuality and Psychological Trauma: Soldiers and Sexual Disorder in World War I and Weimar Germany,” Journal of the History of Sexuality 17, No. 1 (January 2008): 78-79.9 Metropolis, 6:45.

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children or, if she is a traditional model of femininity, may recoil for her safety demonstrating

the need for Freder’s protection. On the other hand, is Freder drawn to Maria for her beauty and

employment or because she is a reminder of the proper life? Whatever the cause, Freder follows

here below and witnesses the harsh life of the worker; it solidifies Maria’s role as prophet.

As Metropolis’ storyline unfolds, C.A. Rotwang (portrayed by Rudolph Klein-Rogge), a

scientist employed by John Fredersen (portrayed by Alfred Abel) who is also Freder’s father,

builds a robot that is capable of looking like a human. Originally intended to replace the

workers, Fredersen decides to disguise the robot as the Prophetess Maria and insight the workers

to violence. The rationale is that by demonstrating the inherent violence of the workers, there

will be support amongst the upper world to replace the laborers with robots. Despite the robot’s

amorphous nature – capable of appearing as either male or female, the body shape created by

Rotwang is that of a woman.10

Rotwang has created the perfect woman to cure and maintain a properly operated world.

She is docile, obedient, an object, and beautiful – fulfilling all the needs of men.11 When Robot-

Maria is unveiled, in order to test her ability to be perceived as human, it is done at a socialite

party (absent of women) in which she appears as the entertainment. She dances before the

ravenous gentlemen in a skimpy costume that accentuates her body shape. It is possible to

interpret this erotic scene as a negative commentary on Weimar Germany’s permissive attitude

towards sexuality.12 At the same time it can be viewed with a permissive lens that women’s role

is the gratification and pleasure of men. Regardless, either interpretation shows the cultural

attitudes of the dominant hierarchy in the Post-World War I world, which either failed to respect

10 Metropolis, 31:53.11 Metropolis, 1:15:08.12 Vibeke Rützou Petersen, Women and Modernity in Weimar Germany: Reality and Its Representation in Popular Fiction, (New York: Berhahn Books, 2001), 73-79.

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women as an individual subject or categorized them as sexual toys for male gratification. The

Metropolis’ author, Thea von Harbou’s (1888-1954) joined the National Socialist German

Workers’ Party (NSDAP) in 1932. As such, like many women who supported extreme

nationalism, favored a secondary role for women in the body politic and that a woman’s

principle role was the raising of children. These activities were seen as the backbone that made

the Wilhelmine Empire great and able to win the war and the path to return Germany to its

rightfully dominant place.13

In her role as prophetess, Maria is able to exert great power and influence over the male

population of the workers’ world. Holding center stage in the film is a scene deep in the

catacombs of the earth in which Maria is teaching, this time no longer to the children but to the

men. She refashions the biblical tale of the “Tower of Babel.” The myth is given a socialist

twist, in which the elite decided to build a new tower to proclaim God as creator and to glorify

man. The elite enslaved the workers, forcing them to construct the tower. And in a Marxist

twist, the proletariat rose up, overthrew the bourgeois, and destroyed the tower. Emphasizing

that the theme of the film is not socialist propaganda, Maria continues the story by explaining

that not only were the elite destroyed but it was also the workers’ own destruction – the Tower of

Babel was the workers’ home too.

The male-laborers hang their lowered-heads even more, falling on their knees in a gesture

of supplication. The prophet promises them that one will come who will lead them into harmony

with the elite of their time. Hopes are raised, but there exists an undercurrent of impatience and

a threat of violence if the savior does not come soon. The acceptance of Maria’s leadership,

prophecy, and mediation is an acknowledgment of her equality, if not superiority, over the men

13 Raffael Scheck, “Women on the Weimar Right: The Role of Female Politicians in the Deutschnationale Volkspartei (DNVP),” Journal of Contemporary History 36, No. 4 (October 2001): 551-552.

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in the room. The symbolism of the setting cannot be overlooked either. Maria has gathered her

following in a cavernous room and she stands before rows of cross. The crosses not only

reinforce her role as prophet, but also demonstrate a triumph over the Pauline prohibition against

women preaching or instructing men (1 Cor. 14:34). Along with the introduction of legal

equality amongst men and women, it also opened avenues of higher education to women as well.

Though the percentage of women who studied at universities remained below their total

population (16 percent in 1931), it represented a potential advantage for women in the future.

The potential was present, but praxis did not always follow. Even with advanced degrees, few

women moved into the higher realms of academia; instead they tended to be involved in high

school education or the medical profession.14

The impotency of real-life was mimicked in Metropolis. Maria is able to be the

messenger, but cannot rise to the level of savior – it is left to the man who descends from the

upper world. The lack of consistency in message between the real Maria and the Robot-Maria

appears to be of no concern to the workers as well. The explanation is either the irrationality of

the workers, doubtful when considering the film sought to promote unity, or lower standards

expected of a female leader who was understood to be ruled by emotion rather than logic.

The climax of the film occurs when Maria escapes from Rotwang and returns to the

lower realm to aid her people. She arrives too late and the power plant has been destroyed and

the flooding of the workers’ town has commenced, where all the children are trapped. She

activates the alarm and gathers the children around her. All she can do is be the herald for

others. Freder hears the call and leads the children to safety with Maria in an auxiliary-role. The

savior, Freder, sends Maria and the children to the Eternal Garden as he leaves to stop the

14 Holger Herwig, Hammer or Anvil?: Modern Germany 1648-Present (Lexington, MA: D.C. Heath and Company, 1994), 241.

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machinations of Rotwang. The worker mob, believing their children drowned because they

followed the advice of the Robot-Maria, burns her at the stake. Rotwang, fearing for his life,

pursues the real Maria as he watches fire consume the flesh from the Robot-Maria. Freder

catches sight of the pursuit and chases Rotwang onto the roof of the cathedral, where he engages

Rotwang in mortal combat. The fight ends as Rotwang falls to his death.

The scene is a retelling of innumerable stories of the gallant man who saves the woman in

distress and triumphs over evil. Understood however in the Germanic tradition to defend honor

(including a woman’s honor), adds another layer to it. The Reichstag, early in the Republic

outlawed the Mensur. The illegality did not stop its use and when permitted again under Hitler’s

regime was a regular occurrence.15 The practice was a means to maintain honor, prove virility,

and provide a level of social respectability – in short it meant a man was able to provide.16 In a

society bereft of honor by the perceived betrayal at World War I’s end and the persistent

economic depression depriving the heads of households with the ability to provide for their

families, left a need for such heroic ventures. The male psyche’s need to be assuaged – as in his

libido – took preeminence over women.

Metropolis provided a good example of the internal struggles within the cultural and

larger world of Weimar society to provide the equality professed in its creed with the reality of

Germany’s past. Women were given great opportunities to shine and to take on leadership roles

and yet, even in the sub cultural charged with expanding boundaries, the centuries of male

dominance was not overcome. A woman was not able to be the heroine.

It can be argued that since Metropolis is a work of fiction, its affect on the culture or

vice-versa cannot be overemphasized. As an isolated phenomenon this statement may be valid,

15 Kevin McAleer, “Graduation with Honor,” in Dueling (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1997), 126.16 McAleer, 137-141.

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but there are other examples in the literary and cinematic world. In addition, the life of Otto Dix

provides further examples.

Otto Dix was both a painter and dancer, who closely aligned himself with the American

ethos, in particular the uniquely American music of jazz. The world of dance, integral with most

contemporary forms of music, was peculiar in a masculine dominated world; it was the purview

of women. Women were a majority of dancers and, despite men leading when they danced

together, the quintessential image of a dancer in popular culture was a woman.17 Dix’s

credentials as a destroyer of societal norms were considered above reproach by his

contemporaries. In 1923 Carl Einstein wrote an essay on George Grosz, Rudolph Schlichter, and

Otto Dix in which he described the work of these men as stripping the façade off bourgeois

values and providing a social conscience. In particular he praised Dix’s work as having giving

“this era – which is only the caricature of one – a resolute and technically sound kick in its

swollen belly, wrings confession of vileness from it, and produces an upright depiction of its

people.”18 He is a man in favor of the new freedom provided by the Weimar Constitution.

He chose nevertheless to enter the world of women and to make a mark there. In 1922 he

produced a self-portrait, To Beauty, which brought together some of his favorite experiences

(jazz, dance, and fashion). The central figure in the composition is Dix, who projects a sense of

power with his intense glare at the viewer and his stiff posture. The other seven remaining

figures frame him. There is the African American drum player, to Dix’s left, beating his drum

with wild abandon as he gazes at the viewer too, but with a large grin on his face. On Dix’s right

is a male-female couple dancing close together, but with a sense of awkwardness in their posture,

17 Susan Funkenstein, “A Man’s Place in a Woman’s World: Otto Dix, Social Dancing, and Constructions of Masculinity in Weimar Germany,” Women in German Yearbook 21 (2005): 164-166.18 Carl Einstein, “Otto Dix,” Das Kunstblatt 7, No. 3 (March 1923), 97-102 in The Weimar Republic Sourcebook, ed. by Anton Kaes, Martin Jay, and Edward Dimenberg (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1994), 490-491.

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and eyes shut. Two men stand in the background of the painting, one on the left and the other on

the right. They are too far removed from the center light to be distinguishable. The final two

characters are women. One in the left foreground, dressed in a Victorian-style dress and gazes

wide-eyed at the viewer. The final woman, over the left shoulder of Dix, appears to wear only

her corset and her eyes are fixed upon Dix.19

Dix was a man who should not have been bound by societal norms and so it was not

uncharacteristic for him to enter the world of dance. His entrance however was not one of being

equal with the women who were already present, instead he desired to take center stage and

dominate. His centrality in the portrait reinforces this notion of supremacy. The role of the man

in dance, despite the pre-established supremacy of women, was to lead; and since he is present,

he must assume the role. The posture he painted himself was that of a model holding a pose.

The oddities that exist in the other figures helped to define his presence and demeanor as being

normative. Assuming the mantle of normalcy in this composition established him as the ideal, as

such, women lost that role.20

Men dominated most expressions of art in the Weimar-era and the sole holdout was

dance. Despite Otto Dix’s insertion into the form, the overall trend of women being the

expression of dance did not change. It is worthy noting however the need felt by Dix, a

representative of the new man, to infiltrate the primary artistic outlet of women. The drive to

control was not something that was suppressed by a mere act of the will. The visual and the

performing arts were an area where women needed to stand their ground too.

19 Otto Dix, To Beauty, 1922, Von der Heydt-Museum, Wuppertal, Germany, in Susan Funenstein, “A Man’s Place in a Woman’s World: Otto Dix, Social Dancing, and Construction of Masculinity in Weimar Germany,” Women in German Yearbook 21 (2005): 165.20 Funkenstein, 168.

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The question of art representing society is a necessary one to ask and in the case of

women’s power being challenged and usurped by men, it was the reality. Article 109 of the

Weimar Constitution provided equal rights for men and women before the law, which included

the right to vote, to stand for election, and to represent her constituents in the Reichstag.21 In the

first meeting of the Reichstag in 1919, 41 women were members (9.7% of the total). In 1930, 38

women (6.6% of the total) were sent to parliament.22 Women never made large strides in total

representation, but it was an achievement. The Reichstag was one of the places where the great

issues of the day were debated, which included topics important women. The female Reichstag

members however gave one fourth less speeches on the floor than her male counterpart. They

also were typically assigned to committees that were considered the domain of women (i.e.

labor, civil rights, social policy, and welfare for working women).23 It was not a woman’s proper

decorum that kept female Reichstag members from speaking but fear. In the proportional

representation model established by the Weimar Constitution, it was not direct election that

brought her to the Reichstag but the choice of party leaders. No member of the Reichstag was

free to go their own course on an issue with an official opinion by the party – not to follow the

party line risked being placed lower on the list of candidates for office. Women, already a

significant minority, feared the exclusion even more than their male counterparts.24

The more socially progressive parties, the Social Democratic Party and the Communist

Party, collectively held a significant plurality prior to the rise of Adolf Hitler and had greater

representation for women. These parties, whose political platforms called for equality amongst

21 The Constitution of the German Republic, (August 11, 1919), Chapter 2: Fundamental Rights and Duties, Section 1: The Individual, Article 109 in The Weimar Republic Sourcebook, ed. by Anton Kaes, Martin Jay, and Edward Dimenberg (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1994), 49.22 Koonz, 667.23 Koonz, 671.24 Koonz, 674-675.

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the sexes, were able to maintain the basic freedoms written into the constitution, but they were

not to expand them. In fact, their own internal political choices excluded a greater number of

women. A strong ideology was not able to overcome the ingrained societal behavior. The

cultural world reflected the political realities.

It will be possible to discover other films, paintings, novels, or other artistic creations that

do represent greater improvements for women. The fundamental issue remains however that

Weimar culture was not a bastion of women’s emancipation. The ineptitude of the political

establishment stagnated the movement and the cultural critics were also entrapped by their own

biases. As other studies have shown, it is not only the rights of women that struggled but also

ethnic and religious groups that struggled. The problem was the inability of the larger society to

handle the great pressures placed upon it from with in and from with out. Weimar Germany

should therefore stand as an example, not of what went wrong, but as a warning to current

generations to deal with the problems that are before them. There needs to exist an integrity

between what is believed, professed, and practiced. That deficiency is the failure of Weimar

culture in regards to women.

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