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Leipzig phoenix — of a kind
The reconstruction of the University Church in Leipzig is planned to coincide with the university’s 600th anniversary next year. Many are unhappy with the plans, says Natalie K. Watson
 Communism triumphs: above: the demolition of St Paul’s University Church, Leipzig, on 30 May 1968, secretly photographed by a resident of the East German city |  |
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Hundreds of citizens of the German city of Leipzig, and many former students of the city’s university, gathered on 30 May to commemorate the 40th anniversary of the destruction of the University Church of St Paul by order of the city’s communist authorities. Among the speakers was Christian Führer, former Pastor of the Lutheran Nikolaikirche near by. In 1982, he had initiated prayers for peace, which were held every Monday night at Nikolaikirche. During the 1980s, the numbers attending increased to thousands, and in 1989 peace marches were held in Leipzig which were copied in many other cities in the German Democratic Republic. The movement gathered momentum to become the peaceful revolution that toppled the Communist dictatorship and opened the door to the elections that led to German reunification in 1990. FORTY years ago, the world’s eyes were on China and its Cultural Revolution, and on student protests in Paris and Germany. Yet the world remained largely silent about an act of cultural barbarism taking place at the heart of Western civilisation, and nothing was done to support the protests of those witnessing the destruction of a former place of encounter between Christianity and humanism, theology and science. On Ascension Day 1968, the city authorities of Leipzig decided to blow up the church that was the spiritual centre of Germany’s second-oldest university, to make room for the reconstruction of Karl-Marx-Platz, the city’s main square. (The area has now reverted to its original name of Augustusplatz.) The decision was carried out a week later on 30 May 1968. The church, one of the city’s most characteristic monuments, had survived the Second World War. Its subsequent destruction was a deliberate attack not only on the city’s cultural heritage, but on Christianity: at the heart of a new Socialist city, there was no room for a church. The medieval church, a 13th-century Dominican foundation, had been consecrated as a Protestant church for the university in 1545 by Martin Luther. Its musical tradition featured names such as Frederick Mendelsohn-Bartholdy, Max Reger, and Johann Sebastian Bach (Bach’s cantata Der Geist hilft unsrer Schwachheit auf was first performed here). It had been home to the university chaplaincy, and, after the Second World War, had been a place of worship for the city’s Roman Catholic population. The writer Erich Loest, who had been among those who watched helplessly as the authorities destroyed the building, described the destruction as Leipzig’s worst day since 1945. Some courageous individuals, against the explicit wishes of the authorities, who had planned a complete destruction that left no trace, managed to salvage some of the church’s treasures. But many items were destroyed in the blast. The church’s medieval altar was later relocated to the neighbouring Thomaskirche, home of one of the oldest boys’ choirs in Germany, but the organ, which had been played by Bach himself, was lost for ever. No proper arrangements were made for the reburial of the remains of more than 800 people buried over the centuries in the church’s historic crypt. Many of the treasures buried with them vanished without trace.PLANS to rebuild the historic church emerged soon after the 1989 revolution, and were widely supported, not least by locals who had witnessed the destruction in 1968. |
 Ruin: above: the historic church is reduced to a pile of rubble
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| The university authorities opted for the plan of the Dutch architect Erick van Egeraat to build a multi-purpose assembly hall, the Paulinum, with a separate prayer-room. It was, in the words of the architect, “a unique combination”. The university says that the Paulinum will be a suitable home for the works of art rescued from the University Church, and part of a building complex for the university “worthy of its significance for the future of the state”. Throughout its history, the church had held concerts, public lectures, and the university’s graduation ceremonies. Now, however, according to Mr Egeraat’s plans, a glass partition would separate the assembly hall from the prayer-room. In the eyes of many, the plans represent the separation of worship and the cultural and scientific tradition of the university, which had been an important part of the institution since its founding in 1409. There are no plans to reinstate the Baroque pulpit, salvaged in 1968, but “it will be very much like a church,” the architect says. Many who are fighting for the church’s reconstruction — including a number of internationally renowned scholars — see the realisation of Mr Egeraat’s plans as a perpetuation of the anti-Christian activity of the Communist regime of 1968. Pastor Führer argues: “The old name must be kept. There was never such a thing as the Paulinum in this place. And those who don’t reinstate the salvaged artefacts in the interior provide retrospective justification for the barbaric act of the church’s destruction in 1968.” Pastor Führer and others demand that the University Church of St Paul should be rebuilt and reconsecrated as a church, not an assembly hall with a partition. And it should once again be called by its old name. During the award ceremony of the city’s XVth International Johann Sebastian Bach Competition, in July, a banner with a picture of the church and the words “We demand rebuilding” was unrolled from the gallery of the city’s concert hall. The banner had been smuggled in by members of the university, who had disguised themselves as caretakers. Two of the main conspirators later escaped, although many of their friends were subsequently arrested and given prison sentences. During the final concert of the competition, another banner was unveiled. This time, it had a picture of Mr Egeraat’s plans for the Paulinum with the words: “40 years later — new university church must be called University Church of St Paul”. Responding to the criticism, the Rector of the University, Professor Dr Franz Häuser, and student representatives, in a joint statement last week described the demolition of the church as barbaric, and expressed regret that only a few members of the university had resisted the pressure from the regime in 1968. They went on to say that the new building, in its internal and external design, with its Gothicising elements, pillars, fan-vaulting, and deliberate architectural breaks [Brüche], would be an “abiding stumbling-block” to keep alive the “necessary reminder” of the destroyed church, “adequately and sustainably”, while accommodating the challenges of a modern university and meeting the needs of future generations. They took issue with those making “absolute demands”. The destruction of 1968 was an act of cultural vandalism. The same spirit seems to live on nearly 40 years later in the university’s decision not to allow a church at its centre. |
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