Shownotes
Redebedarf. Das Podcastformat ohne Format. Manchmal gibt es einfach Anlässe, Erfahrungen und Beobachtungen zur Spielszene die nur in einem kurzen Podcast untergebracht werden können. Das tun Georgios Panagiotidis und Peer Sylvester mit Redebedarf.You love board games. You probably also like music. Let’s combine the two into an immersive playlist for Weimar: The Fight for Democracy (Matthias Cramer, Capstone Games/Skellig Games/Spielworxx). Have it gently play in the background during your next session of Weimar for the full period immersion!
First things first: Here’s the playlist!
Before we dive into the content of the playlist, some general observations:
Now, what awaits you in the playlist?
It seems like a no-brainer to include the German national anthem of the time, yet it’s not so simple: The Lied der Deutschen (Song of the Germans) had been written in 1841, but had since then only been a patriotic song among many – until the first president of the republic, Friedrich Ebert, declared it the national anthem in 1922. The song’s three stanzas were variedly popular: Ebert favored the third stanza with its liberal ideals of unity, justice, and freedom, his right-wing opponents preferred the “Deutschland über alles” (Germany Above Everything) first stanza. I have included an instrumental version. If you feel patriotic, you can sing along.
The Weimar Republic did not come into existence in a vacuum. It inherited German cultural traditions like folk songs (“Wem Gott will rechte Gunst erweisen” (Whom God Wants to Favor), song #2).
And, of course, the Weimar Republic succeeded the German Empire with its national feeling (“Die Wacht am Rhein” (The Guard on the Rhine), song #2), dominant Protestantism (Martin Luther’s classic “Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott” (A Mighty Fortress Is Our God), song #5), and monarchy (“Heil dir im Siegerkranz” (Hail to Thee In the Victor’s Crown), song #7 – the quasi-anthem of the German Empire).
The republic’s midwife was the First World War – whose experience shaped its veterans and provided the cultural context even for those who had not been adults during the war yet (“Wildgänse rauschen durch die Nacht” (Wild Geese Rush Through the Night), song #8, written in 1916, was immensely popular among the Weimar Republic youth movement). The war also cast its shadow over Weimar Germany as many had lost their husbands, sons, fathers, brothers, and friends in the war (“Ich hatt’ einen Kameraden” (I Had a Comrade), song #9, the traditional German soldiers’ lament).
The liberal republic proved fertile ground for satirical treatments of the new developments: Otto Reutter made fun of the big and small war profiteers with “Seh’n Sie, darum ist es schade, dass der Krieg zu Ende ist” (See, that’s why it’s a pity that the war is over, song #10), and Claire Waldoff called for replacing the men in power with women in “Raus mit den Männern aus dem Reichstag” (Kick the Men Out of Parliament, song #11), playing on masculine anxieties after the introduction of women’s suffrage.
Even in a time and place as politically charged as the Weimar Republic, not everything was politics. The average Hans and Gretel may have cared less about their preferred ideology and more about how to have good time on a Saturday night… and the new cultural scene, especially in the big cities like Berlin, provided ample opportunities.
The more sophisticated artists like the Comedian Harmonists succeeded with witty wordplay and erudite vocal harmonies. Others played on the classics – alcohol (“Wir versaufen unser Oma ihr klein’ Häuschen“ (We Blow Grandma’s Little House on Booze, song #19) and sexual innuendo („Fräulein, Woll’n Sie nicht ein Kind von mir“ (Miss, Don’t You Want a Child By Me, song #22). There was even the equivalent of a (generalized) diss track: “Du bist als Kind zu heiß gebadet worden” (You Have Been Bathed Too Hot As a Child, song #23) indicates that this neglect of bath safety led to lasting brain damage in the interlocutor.
The Weimar Republic’s vibrant cultural scene led to cross-pollination between diverse forms of artistic expression. The new medium of film was pioneered in Germany, and once it had left its silent infancy behind, movie songs became hits. Marlene Dietrich, starring in The Blue Angel, enticed with “Ich bin von Kopf bis Fuß auf Liebe eingestellt (I’m Set to Love From Head to Heel, song #26), but warned “Nimm dich in Acht vor blonden Frau’n“ (Beware of Blonde Women, song #27).
More traditional art forms like the theater also adapted. Die Dreigroschenoper (The Threepenny Opera)’s acerbic critique of capitalism would not have been as successful without its catchy songs, the most famous of which is the “Moritat of Mackie Messer” (Ballad of Mack the Knife, song #31).
Even the most classic and highbrow form of entertainment modernized: “Jonny spielt auf” (Jonny Plays It Big, song #33) introduced jazz into the world of the opera… which brings us to our next category.
Traditionally, the United States had received and emulated European fashions, not the other way around. Yet by the early 20th century, America had become the largest economy in the world, its war entry in 1917 tipped the scales of the war further in favor of the Allies, and the increased presence of Americans in Europe meant that the United States turned from an importer to an exporter of culture. Jazz took Europe by storm – both in the form of American (and nascent European) bands and by the new medium of the music record. The Weimar Republic was no exception. Jazz fueled the parties in any larger city of 1920s Germany.
Of course, not everyone loved jazz, and the controversy over its unorthodox dissonances, the more expressive, individualistic, and eroticized dancing style accompanying the music, and, of course, the race of its performers entered the contemporary culture wars – exemplified by Weimar’s double use of Louis Armstrong, illustrating both the SPD’s “The New Rhythm” and the DNVP’s “Nicht Deutsch” (“Not German”) event cards.
The “Tiger Rag” (song #41) is also used in The Tin Drum, German writer Günter Grass’s epic about the rise, fall, and persistence of Nazism: The youthful protagonist Oskar Matzerath who always carries his eponymous tin drum plays the Tiger Rag at a NSDAP rally in his hometown Danzig. The mesmerizing rhythm has the audience sway and dance, exposing the Nazis to ridicule.
The aggressive ethno-nationalism of Nazism was one of the two most dynamic political movements of the Weimar Republic (at least once the 1929 crash had plunged vast parts of the German population into a crisis of material and identity). The other was the workers’ movement, both in its reformist Social Democratic and its revolutionary Communist form. As the workers had been traditionally excluded from the public in imperial Germany, dominated by aristocracy and bourgeoisie, they created their own political parties (SPD, later USPD and KPD), economic associations (the trade unions), and social and cultural associations – from workers’ sport clubs to workers’ singing societies. Their milieu was bound together not only by their shared economic experience, but also by this cultural connection, of which the workers’ songs formed an important part.
Classics from imperial times like “Die Internationale” (The Internationale, song #42) remained important, but the movement also adopted new songs written by the numerous socialist poets and composers like Bertolt Brecht, Hanns Eisler, or Ernst Busch. Whereas some of these became new classics (like the “Solidaritätslied” (Solidarity Song, song #46), others aged badly: “Der Marsch ins Dritte Reich” (The March to the Third Reich, song #47) poked fun at the alleged inability of the Nazis to take power after their electoral setback at the Reichstag election of November 1932. First recorded in December 1932, the song was horribly overtaken by events just a month later when Hitler was elected chancellor in January 1933.
Thus, we conclude our playlist. It contains the traditional and the modern, entertainment and politics, left and right – except for the very right, but I don’t want to listen to Nazi songs while playing board games, and I’m sure that neither do you.
Do you like to play music in the background while playing board games? What’s your favorite song from this playlist? Let me know in the comments!
You love board games. You probably also like music. Let’s combine the two into an immersive playlist for Weimar: The Fight for Democracy (Matthias Cramer, Capstone Games/Skellig Games/Spielworxx). Have it gently play in the background during your next session of Weimar for the full period immersion!
First things first: Here’s the playlist!
Before we dive into the content of the playlist, some general observations:
Now, what awaits you in the playlist?
It seems like a no-brainer to include the German national anthem of the time, yet it’s not so simple: The Lied der Deutschen (Song of the Germans) had been written in 1841, but had since then only been a patriotic song among many – until the first president of the republic, Friedrich Ebert, declared it the national anthem in 1922. The song’s three stanzas were variedly popular: Ebert favored the third stanza with its liberal ideals of unity, justice, and freedom, his right-wing opponents preferred the “Deutschland über alles” (Germany Above Everything) first stanza. I have included an instrumental version. If you feel patriotic, you can sing along.
The Weimar Republic did not come into existence in a vacuum. It inherited German cultural traditions like folk songs (“Wem Gott will rechte Gunst erweisen” (Whom God Wants to Favor), song #2).
And, of course, the Weimar Republic succeeded the German Empire with its national feeling (“Die Wacht am Rhein” (The Guard on the Rhine), song #2), dominant Protestantism (Martin Luther’s classic “Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott” (A Mighty Fortress Is Our God), song #5), and monarchy (“Heil dir im Siegerkranz” (Hail to Thee In the Victor’s Crown), song #7 – the quasi-anthem of the German Empire).
The republic’s midwife was the First World War – whose experience shaped its veterans and provided the cultural context even for those who had not been adults during the war yet (“Wildgänse rauschen durch die Nacht” (Wild Geese Rush Through the Night), song #8, written in 1916, was immensely popular among the Weimar Republic youth movement). The war also cast its shadow over Weimar Germany as many had lost their husbands, sons, fathers, brothers, and friends in the war (“Ich hatt’ einen Kameraden” (I Had a Comrade), song #9, the traditional German soldiers’ lament).
The liberal republic proved fertile ground for satirical treatments of the new developments: Otto Reutter made fun of the big and small war profiteers with “Seh’n Sie, darum ist es schade, dass der Krieg zu Ende ist” (See, that’s why it’s a pity that the war is over, song #10), and Claire Waldoff called for replacing the men in power with women in “Raus mit den Männern aus dem Reichstag” (Kick the Men Out of Parliament, song #11), playing on masculine anxieties after the introduction of women’s suffrage.
Even in a time and place as politically charged as the Weimar Republic, not everything was politics. The average Hans and Gretel may have cared less about their preferred ideology and more about how to have good time on a Saturday night… and the new cultural scene, especially in the big cities like Berlin, provided ample opportunities.
The more sophisticated artists like the Comedian Harmonists succeeded with witty wordplay and erudite vocal harmonies. Others played on the classics – alcohol (“Wir versaufen unser Oma ihr klein’ Häuschen“ (We Blow Grandma’s Little House on Booze, song #19) and sexual innuendo („Fräulein, Woll’n Sie nicht ein Kind von mir“ (Miss, Don’t You Want a Child By Me, song #22). There was even the equivalent of a (generalized) diss track: “Du bist als Kind zu heiß gebadet worden” (You Have Been Bathed Too Hot As a Child, song #23) indicates that this neglect of bath safety led to lasting brain damage in the interlocutor.
The Weimar Republic’s vibrant cultural scene led to cross-pollination between diverse forms of artistic expression. The new medium of film was pioneered in Germany, and once it had left its silent infancy behind, movie songs became hits. Marlene Dietrich, starring in The Blue Angel, enticed with “Ich bin von Kopf bis Fuß auf Liebe eingestellt (I’m Set to Love From Head to Heel, song #26), but warned “Nimm dich in Acht vor blonden Frau’n“ (Beware of Blonde Women, song #27).
More traditional art forms like the theater also adapted. Die Dreigroschenoper (The Threepenny Opera)’s acerbic critique of capitalism would not have been as successful without its catchy songs, the most famous of which is the “Moritat of Mackie Messer” (Ballad of Mack the Knife, song #31).
Even the most classic and highbrow form of entertainment modernized: “Jonny spielt auf” (Jonny Plays It Big, song #33) introduced jazz into the world of the opera… which brings us to our next category.
Traditionally, the United States had received and emulated European fashions, not the other way around. Yet by the early 20th century, America had become the largest economy in the world, its war entry in 1917 tipped the scales of the war further in favor of the Allies, and the increased presence of Americans in Europe meant that the United States turned from an importer to an exporter of culture. Jazz took Europe by storm – both in the form of American (and nascent European) bands and by the new medium of the music record. The Weimar Republic was no exception. Jazz fueled the parties in any larger city of 1920s Germany.
Of course, not everyone loved jazz, and the controversy over its unorthodox dissonances, the more expressive, individualistic, and eroticized dancing style accompanying the music, and, of course, the race of its performers entered the contemporary culture wars – exemplified by Weimar’s double use of Louis Armstrong, illustrating both the SPD’s “The New Rhythm” and the DNVP’s “Nicht Deutsch” (“Not German”) event cards.
The “Tiger Rag” (song #41) is also used in The Tin Drum, German writer Günter Grass’s epic about the rise, fall, and persistence of Nazism: The youthful protagonist Oskar Matzerath who always carries his eponymous tin drum plays the Tiger Rag at a NSDAP rally in his hometown Danzig. The mesmerizing rhythm has the audience sway and dance, exposing the Nazis to ridicule.
The aggressive ethno-nationalism of Nazism was one of the two most dynamic political movements of the Weimar Republic (at least once the 1929 crash had plunged vast parts of the German population into a crisis of material and identity). The other was the workers’ movement, both in its reformist Social Democratic and its revolutionary Communist form. As the workers had been traditionally excluded from the public in imperial Germany, dominated by aristocracy and bourgeoisie, they created their own political parties (SPD, later USPD and KPD), economic associations (the trade unions), and social and cultural associations – from workers’ sport clubs to workers’ singing societies. Their milieu was bound together not only by their shared economic experience, but also by this cultural connection, of which the workers’ songs formed an important part.
Classics from imperial times like “Die Internationale” (The Internationale, song #42) remained important, but the movement also adopted new songs written by the numerous socialist poets and composers like Bertolt Brecht, Hanns Eisler, or Ernst Busch. Whereas some of these became new classics (like the “Solidaritätslied” (Solidarity Song, song #46), others aged badly: “Der Marsch ins Dritte Reich” (The March to the Third Reich, song #47) poked fun at the alleged inability of the Nazis to take power after their electoral setback at the Reichstag election of November 1932. First recorded in December 1932, the song was horribly overtaken by events just a month later when Hitler was elected chancellor in January 1933.
Thus, we conclude our playlist. It contains the traditional and the modern, entertainment and politics, left and right – except for the very right, but I don’t want to listen to Nazi songs while playing board games, and I’m sure that neither do you.
Do you like to play music in the background while playing board games? What’s your favorite song from this playlist? Let me know in the comments!
Back to Wallenstein, the mystery of the Thirty Years’ War! …or, if you have been reading the last two instalments in this miniseries, just a regular man, shaped by his time, shaping his time. We’ve seen his unassuming beginnings and his meteoric rise early in the war, and then his five years as supreme imperial commander until he was recalled by an ingrate emperor on behalf of his malignant princes. Today, we’ll look at Wallenstein’s second command, the duel of the two greatest commanders of the war, and Wallenstein’s search for peace. Of course, there will be board games on the way.
You can read all posts in the series here:
Gustavus Adolphus, King of Sweden, had taken Germany by storm in 1631. He was allied with the heretofore neutral Protestant electors of Saxony and Brandenburg, had shattered the imperial army under Count Tilly at Breitenfeld, and was taking his winter quarters in Mainz, deep in the southwest of Germany. For 1632, he looked ready to advance along the Danube, first into Bavaria, the home of elector Maximilian, the most powerful Catholic prince in the empire (and Wallenstein’s chief rival), and then into the Habsburg core lands.
Wallenstein had been the emperor’s man to solve his military problems for five years. It was thus an obvious choice to recall him as commander. Even Maximilian was in favor (hoping for Wallenstein to defend his electorate, which had heretofore been blissfully ignorant of war as a first-hand experience). Emperor Ferdinand II was practically begging. Wallenstein agreed – but only to reorganize the army, only for three months. The emperor went along, having no other choice. And, of course, when the three months were over, Wallenstein stayed on, having his supreme authority confirmed and expanded.
We have discussed the Wallenstein rule in Thirty Years War: Europe in Agony, 1618—1648 (David A. Fox/Michael Welker, GMT Games) as far as his dismissal was concerned – when Wallenstein’s influence becomes too high, the Catholic player can avoid losing by dismissing Wallenstein which will halve his influence. Having dismissed Wallenstein, the Catholic player can recall him again for a second bout in command – this time probably shorter, as Wallenstein will have some leftover influence and will thus be closer to the influence threshold that would mean Protestant victory!
Gustavus Adolphus had not been idle while Wallenstein re-organized the army. He had split his army in several parts, taking a good deal of Catholic Germany (and distributing ecclesiastical lands to his supporters), while his main force advanced towards Bavaria. The army of the Catholic League under Maximilian and Tilly attempted to make up for their numerical inferiority with a strong defensive position behind the river Lech. Gustavus Adolphus forced the Lech in April 1632 with the double measure of a crossing south of the Catholic army and the massed use of artillery. The League army was routed. Tilly died of the wounds he had suffered in the battle. One month later, Gustavus Adolphus lodged in the Bavarian capital Munich.
Maximilian beseeched Wallenstein to march for Bavaria and meet the Swedes in open battle. Yet Wallenstein’s mission concerned the entire empire, not just a single electorate. And his caution – half natural, half learned in the campaign of 1626 – led him to pursue a different course. He marched for Franconia. From there, he threatened Gustavus’s supply lines which stretched all the way to the Baltic coast, and he could quickly march to Bavaria, strike at the Swedish king’s new Saxon allies, or retreat to Bohemia, as the situation required it. When he took camp near the city of Nuremberg, one of the greatest cities of the empire, he also evoked the Protestants’ fear of another Magdeburg – more atrocities visited on a large Protestant city. Gustavus Adolphus had to turn and face Wallenstein.
The Swedish king had a battle-hardened army with him, but the difficult supply situation and the vast area which he had conquered had forced him to detach large parts of his army. Even though reinforcements arrived for him in Nuremberg, his combined force was not bigger than Wallenstein’s (strengthened by some of the Bavarian troops) who had built a fortified camp at the Alte Veste outside of Nuremberg. Gustavus, eager to fight a decisive battle and resume his attack on the Habsburg core lands, attempted to breach the defenses for several days, but was bloodily repelled by Wallenstein’s forces. The king had to withdraw. He left a garrison behind to hold Nuremberg against Wallenstein’s siege. The Swedes were not defeated, but the myth of Gustavus’s invincibility was broken.
As the Protestant army had withdrawn southwest, Maximilian feared a new invasion of Bavaria. Once more, he demanded that Wallenstein follow Gustavus to protect Bavaria. And once more, Wallenstein refused. Protect Bavaria he would, though… not by marching south, but north.
Wallenstein’s march for Saxony followed his tried-and-tested strategy of combining pressure on the supply lines with political pressure: When Wallenstein’s army showed up in Saxony, the Saxons would understand how foolish they had been to declare against the emperor. Maybe their elector John George, an imperial loyalist by inclination, could be brought back into the imperial fold. Until then, Wallenstein’s army would winter in Saxony, consuming the food and fodder which Saxon peasants had grown and harvested.
As Wallenstein had foreseen, Gustavus Adolphus followed him to protect his supply lines and his Saxon allies, arriving in November 1632 in Saxony. In Wallenstein’s mind, the campaigning season was over, and he split his army into several winter quarters – a common necessity in Cuius Regio (Francisco Gradaille, GMT Games, forthcoming) as well, as smaller towns are often unable to supply large armies in winter. Yet Gustavus was not done campaigning, kept his force concentrated, and marched on the force under Wallenstein’s command stationed around the village of Lützen.
Wallenstein, caught unprepared, scrambled to get reinforcements for the battle that was now upon him. He hoped that at least the cavalry of his lieutenant Gottfried Heinrich, Count of Pappenheim would arrive in time, maybe even the infantry. Until then, he took defensive positions at Lützen, obscured by the morning mist and the smoke from having set the village on fire.
The ensuing Battle of Lützen, fought on November 16, 1632, was Wallenstein’s fiercest tactical challenge. The Protestant army had a slight numerical superiority, its core formed by veterans of many battles (usually on the winning side), and it was commanded by the greatest tactical commander of the time. The initial Swedish assault shattered Wallenstein’s left. The Swedes also gained Wallenstein’s artillery battery on the left wing. Yet when the battle seemed already lost, Pappenheim arrived with his cavalry regiments and turned the tide. Pappenheim, however, was severely wounded, and most of his cavalrymen fled. Colonel Ottavio Piccolomini took some regiments from the center, and, helped by the onset of more fog, could stabilize the front.
In the meantime, Wallenstein’s right had repelled the Protestant assault on their side and were now battering the Swedish-German troops under Prince Bernard of Saxony-Weimar. Bernard called for support, and the king himself answered with a group of select cavalrymen. Gustavus Adolphus was wounded, lost touch with his forces in the fog, and thus fell into the hands of imperial soldiers who killed him and plundered his corpse. News of the death of the king spread among the Protestant ranks. They responded quite differently to Pappenheim’s forces when faced with the loss of their commander: Gustavus Adolphus had been beloved, a hero, the savior of Protestantism. The Swedish-German troops battered Wallenstein’s right wing and took his second battery. Their strength, however, was insufficient to expel the imperial forces from their defensive positions. The fighting ended when night fell. Wallenstein withdrew his army in good order.
Lützen had been no victory for Wallenstein. He had given up the battlefield and his losses were heavier than those of the Protestants. Yet Wallenstein could retake the positions lost, and he could recruit new soldiers to take the places of the fallen. Gustavus Adolphus, on the other hand, could barely be replaced. The imperial side could be content with the campaigns of 1632.
After Wallenstein’s last great operational success, the campaign against Denmark in 1627 and 1628, he had made peace with his enemy from a position of strength. His inclination now was to do the same – only peace would confirm his large acquisitions in Bohemia, Silesia, and Mecklenburg, and as he grew older and sicker, frequently bed-ridden, he meant to enjoy them. As the Swedes were nowhere near as thoroughly beaten as Denmark had been, Wallenstein started smaller with attempts to prise their Saxon allies away from them with a mix of persuasion and force: While he treated with his former marshal Hans Georg von Arnim, who, as a devout Protestant, had left imperial service for reasons of conscience after the Edict of Restitution, and now served the Elector of Saxony, Wallenstein’s new lieutenant Heinrich von Holk (another Protestant, and the former commander of the forces resisting Wallenstein at the siege of Stralsund) marauded in Saxony.
The emperor had good hopes that his Saxon vassal would return into the imperial fold and commended Wallenstein for his diplomatic efforts. In the meantime, Wallenstein (and his new second-in-command Matthias Gallas, promoted after Holk had died of the plague in September 1633) also treated with the Swedes (in the person of Gustavus Adolphus’s chancellor Axel of Oxenstierna who now directed Swedish politics), yet nothing would come of that: Both sides seem to have tried to stall the other’s war efforts with diplomacy and undermine the confidence of the allies of the other. For example, the Swedes offered Wallenstein to become King of Bohemia if he allied with them and fought against the emperor – an absurd notion, as Wallenstein’s confirmation by the Protestant estates of Bohemia would have been at odds with their expropriation in 1621 from which he had acquired his Bohemian holdings.
The Swedish advances were not acknowledged by Wallenstein himself. As his health deteriorated, however, others started speaking with his voice, chiefly his brother-in-law Adam Erdmann, Count Trčka, his marshal Christian von Ilow, and the Bohemian diplomat Vilém Kinský. They hoped to bring about an alliance between Wallenstein, the Bohemian emigrants, and the foreign powers supporting them against the Habsburgs – Sweden, and possibly even France.
Both sides used their tentative diplomatic efforts and the resulting operational lull in 1633 to consolidate their forces after the exertions of the previous year. By fall, though, they were ready to strike again. Wallenstein marched to Silesia to retake the last Habsburg dominion held by the Protestants. Their commander, the Bohemian Heinrich Matthias von Thurn, surrendered in exchange for his release after the capture. Emperor Ferdinand resented that this arch-rebel who had been in the Bohemian uprising from its beginning in 1618 went unpunished.
The Swedish main army, commanded by Bernard of Weimar, struck at Regensburg and invaded Bavaria again in November. Wallenstein sent some regiments under Johann von Aldringen to support the Catholic League army, but his own army remained in Bohemia on the principle that any threat to the Habsburg core lands could be blocked as long as imperial forces held the city of Passau on the Danube. Maximilian complained bitterly to the emperor about Wallenstein’s passivity.
Emperor Ferdinand II had always been the source of Wallenstein’s power, often against the advice of his allies. Maximilian had always been suspicious of Wallenstein. The Spanish Habsburgs had had a more ambivalent stance. They had respected Wallenstein as an effective commander who spread Habsburg influence in Germany, but had resented his refusal to support their wars in the Netherlands, and, in the late 1620s, against the French in Upper Italy. In December 1633, they found themselves in a pickle: The Habsburg governess of the Netherlands, Isabella Clara Eugenia, aunt to the King of Spain, had died. With Dutch naval supremacy, they could only bring a new governor in by land, along the Spanish Road linking Upper Italy and the Netherlands – whose middle part in Germany was now in the hands of the Swedes. The Spanish representatives in Vienna lobbied for Wallenstein to give the new governor, Cardinal-Infante Ferdinand, an armed escort of several regiments. Wallenstein refused. An army of a few thousand men with the Cardinal-Infante could not possibly withstand any Swedish attack on its way, he argued, while he could not spare thousands of men when the Habsburg core lands were under direct threat. Spain was snubbed. If the Spanish had ever supported Wallenstein, henceforth, they wouldn’t.
It doesn’t look so good anymore for our hero! In the next post, we will wrap up the story of Wallenstein. Watch this space!
Won by the Sword (Ben Hull, GMT Games)
Thirty Years’ War: Europe in Agony, 1618—1648 (David A. Fox/Michael Welker, GMT Games)
Cuius Regio (Francisco Gradaille, GMT Games, forthcoming)
A recent biography which succeeds at dispelling the Wallenstein myth is Mortimer, Geoff: Wallenstein. The Enigma of the Thirty Years’ War, Palgrave Macmillan, London 2010.
For an older, more encompassing biography with literary aspirations, see Mann, Golo: Wallenstein. His Life Narrated, Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, New York City, NY 1976.
On the reception of Wallenstein and his changing image from his contemporaries all the way through the 20th century, see Bahlcke, Joachim/Kampmann, Christoph: Wallensteinbilder im Widerstreit: Eine historische Symbolfigur in Geschichtsschreibung und Literatur vom 17. bis zum 20. Jahrhundert [Conflicting Conceptions of Wallenstein: A Symbolic Figure from History in Historiography and Literature from the 17th to the 20th Century], Böhlau, Cologne/Weimar/Vienna 2011 [in German].
For a short introduction to the Thirty Years’ War, see Schmidt, Georg: Der Dreißigjährige Krieg [The Thirty Years’ War], C.H. Beck, Munich 2010 [in German].
A magisterial monography on the entire war is Wilson, Peter H.: Europe’s Tragedy. A New History of the Thirty Years’ War, Penguin, London 2009.
Mit Weimar bringen Skellig Games und Spielworxx in Kooperation einen Politik-Kracher von Matthias Cramer auf den Markt und buhlen um einen Platz in eurem Spieleregal. Mit Doublelayer-Board und viel bedrucktem Holzmaterial möchte das Spiel sein historisches Thema in Szene setzen. Doch es gibt einen Haken: Mit Ausnahme des Solo-Modus ist das Spiel nur mit genau 4 Spielern spielbar. Ob das gut geht?
Starten wir erstmal ganz sacht: Thematisch spielen wir die Entwicklung der Weimarer Republik nach. Das Spiel gliedert diese Zeit von 1918-1932 in 3 Phasen mit je 2 Runden. Die Spieler übernehmen dabei die Führung je einer Partei. Zur Auswahl stehen die SPD, die KPD, die Zentrumspartei und die DNVP.
Mechanisch gesehen spielen wir dabei ein Spiel, das quasi die Evolution der Evolution von Twilight Struggle / Gleichgewicht des Schreckens ist. Gesteuert über Handkarten, sowohl allgemeiner Republikkarten als auch eigener Parteikarten, beeinflussen wir politische Debatten oder unsere Aktivitäten in einer von 11 Städten. Alternativ dazu können wir auch die Effekte der einzelnen Karten spielen. Alles soweit bekannt vom Urvater der kartengetriebenen Konfliktspiele.
Allerdings kommt hier noch der Mechanismus der Aktionen mit hinzu – einer Ebene, die im Vergleich gänzlich neu ist. Und eine ganz neue Stufe an Interaktion ermöglicht: Zwar sind die Grundaktionen identisch bei allen Parteien. Es gibt aber auch Ausnahmen. Diese finden sich entweder in den Details, oder aber in der direkten Reaktion auf bestimmte Vorkommnisse auf dem Spielplan. So bekommt jede Partei eigene Ziele, Möglichkeiten und Einheiten spendiert. Dadurch erkennt man schnell, dass das Spiel nicht funktionieren würde, wenn nicht in Vollbesetzung gespielt werden würde.
Zugleich zwingt einem das Spiel dadurch auch einen Weg auf, der natürlich dem realistischen Verlauf nachempfunden ist: Die SPD und die Zentrumspartei haben zum Beispiel nur die Möglichkeit eines „Gegenputsches“ als Standard-Aktion. Eine Aktion, die nur dann möglich ist, wenn sie sich in der Regierung befinden. In umgekehrter Art und Weise gilt das für die DNVP und die KPD für die Standard-Aktion „Putsch“. Schafft man es also nicht nach dem realistischen Vorbild zu spielen, schrumpfen die Möglichkeiten und damit der eigene Einfluss.
Alternativ zu diesen Aktionen kann ich Aktionspunkte auch als maximal 2 „Reservepunkte“ aufsparen. Diese Punkte verfallen erst, wenn ich sie einsetze. Das ist nicht nur praktisch, sondern durch eine kleine Detailregel auch politisch unglaublich mächtig: Die parteispezifischen Reaktions-Aktionen kann ich einzig mit Aktionspunkten aus meiner Reserve bezahlen und aktivieren. Da die Anzahl der verfügbaren Reservepunkte stets offenkundig ist, können alle Mitspielenden auch einschätzen, wie Reaktionsfreudig ich gerade vermag zu spielen. Das kommt teilweise schon einer militärischen Abschreckung gleich und erlaubt mir auch mein Timing für bestimmte Aktionen besser zu bestimmen. Etwas Verständnis für diese Mechanik vorausgesetzt ist das hochspannend!
Ein historisches Thema setzt meist auch genaue Kenntnisse voraus, um Spannung und Motive herauszuarbeiten. Ich muss zugeben, dass mein historisches Wissen der Zeit vor 1932 gerne etwas Auffrischung vertragen hat. Ich sage es vorab: Weimar macht sehr vieles richtig! Beginnen wir bei der Anleitung. Die ist sauber strukturiert und gesetzt, klar geschrieben, sehr sehr übersichtlich und geht sparsam mit Bildern und Hinweisen um. Ich hatte zu keiner Zeit das Gefühl hier nicht durchzublicken.
Das Spielfeld und das gesamte Material helfen dabei, das Spiel schnell zu lernen. Das Doublelayer-Spielbrett hilft ungemein, die (optionalen!) Spielhilfen auf den Spielertableaus sind klasse und die einheitliche Symbolik sowie hilfreiches Grafikdesign gestalten den Einstieg zu einem Kinderspiel – zumindest für so ein Schwergewicht. Pro Spieler gibt es eine ganze A4-Seite an Symbolen und Erklärungen – ich habe sie nicht ein einziges Mal benötigt.
Was sich hingegen einschleifen muss, ist das jeweilige Spielziel. Natürlich sind Spielende-Bedingungen klar kommuniziert und es ist auch verständlich, wie man Aktionen und Ereignisse ausspielt. Aber das „warum?“ war mir anfangs nicht immer klar. Geholfen hat dann letztendlich die Übersicht der Siegpunkt-Quellen am Rundenende, um einen groben Plan zu haben, was gut für meine jeweilige Partei ist und was eben nicht.
Darüber hinaus debattiert man mehrere Runden über Themen im Parlament und weiß: Je weiter ein Thema „bei mir“ ist, desto besser. Aber wozu mache ich das? Das erschließt sich dann auch erst am Ende der Runde. Zum einen erhalte ich durch gut platzierte Themen Einfluss im Parlament (und so mit Sitze). Aber all diese Debatten haben letztendlich auch einen Effekt, den ich abhandeln muss: ich werde Startspieler (noch vor dem Kanzler), kann Armut bekämpfen, für Sicherheit sorgen… oder das Gegenteil davon tun.
Was mir Weimar nicht leicht macht, ist die Einordnung: Der sehr hohe Anspruch steht einer hervorragenden redaktionellen Arbeit gegenüber. Weimar ist ein hoch komplexes Spiel, aber kein kompliziertes. Ich habe es als sehr angenehm empfunden nahezu niemals darüber nachdenken zu müssen wie etwas nochmal funktioniert. Die Frage war eher wozu ich etwas mache – was der beste Weg ist und wohin die Reise gehen soll.
Um diese Frage zu klären benötigt man wohl mindestens 1-3 Partien in derselben Gruppe, damit auch die Langzeit-Entwicklung der Republik über die 3 Phasen hinweg bekannt sind und die Decks der einzelnen Parteien eingeschätzt werden können. Von den je 2 optionalen Erweiterungsdecks mit je 5 Karten, die jede Partei innerhalb der Partie noch dazu gewinnen kann, ganz zu schweigen.
Und diese Hürde muss man dann doch überwinden wollen und vor allem können. Weimar macht einem den Einstieg so leicht wie irgend möglich, was jedoch nicht bedeutet, dass er auch zwingend leichtfällt. Vielmehr muss man das System des Spiels kennen lernen, um es effektiv und zielgerichtet zu spielen. Natürlich kommt man auch in der Erstpartie über die Runden, aber um strategisch statt nur taktisch planen zu können, um sinnvoll agieren statt nur auf seine Kartenhand reagieren zu können muss man einfach sehr viel Wissen aufbauen. Dass das Spiel (mit Ausnahme des Solo-Szenarios) nur zu viert spielbar ist und wohl mit denselben Spielenden mehrfach gespielt werden sollte, macht es nicht gerade einfacher, diese Hürde auch zu nehmen.
Fazit zu Weimar – Der Kampf um die Demokratie
Weimar hat mich nachhaltig beeindruckt. Nicht nur, aber vor allem im Vergleich mit anderen kartengetriebenen Konfliktspielen, die in ihrer Präsentation meist doch eher bieder und zweckdienlich daher kommen. Da ist Weimar anders: Dieses Spiel ist ausgesprochen gut produziert. Das fängt beim üppigen Spielmaterial an und hört beim zugänglichen Grafikdesign noch lang nicht auf. Als Kirsche gibt es dazu noch ein stabiles Papp-Insert, das seinen Namen auch verdient.
Einziger Wermutstropfen ist die benötigte Spieleranzahl von genau vier Spielern und die thematische Komplexität. Hier benötigt man entweder viel Erfahrung im Bereich solcher Spiele, oder aber etwas Sitzfleisch – dann kommt das Hintergrundwissen ganz von allein.
Weimar braucht sich hinter seinen Artgenossen auf keinen Fall zu verstecken, setzt mit dem Aktionsmechanismus sogar noch eine spannende Mechanik oben auf. Die hervorragende Anleitung könnte kaum besser sein und „genretypisch“ gibt es noch ein Begleitheft mit Szenarien, der thematischen Erklärung der Ereigniskarten sowie einer toll geschriebenen und bebilderten Beispielrunde.
Auch wenn ich befürchte keine Spielgruppe für dieses Werk zu haben, hat mich Weimar auf ganzer Linie beeindruckt. Nicht nur als spannendes Spiel, sondern vor allem auch als sehr rundes Gesamtprodukt. Ich ziehe meinen Hut!
Kein Spiel ist für Jedermann. Ob Weimar etwas für euch ist, entscheidet allein ihr.
Erfahre mehr über das Wertungssystem im Toptest.
Die thematische Einbettung ist die Stärke dieser Spiele und auch hier fühlt sich alles hoch thematisch an. Das Beilagen-Material erklärt es auch noch bis ins Detail. Besser geht es nicht – Lehrauftrag erfüllt!
Karten, Doublelayer-Spielbrett, bedruckte Holzteile in Hülle und Fülle, dazu noch ein gutes Insert? Dieses Spiel braucht sich hinter keiner EGG-Deluxe-Produktion zu verstecken.
Im Vergleich zu seinen Genrevertretern sehr ansprechend und hochwertig. Allerdings auch klassisch. Sepia ist hier vorherrschend. Was mir persönlich nie gut gefällt sind Fotos auf Spielmaterial. Auch wenn es sich hier um echte Fotos historischer Personen oder Ereignisse handelt, finde ich Zeichnungen einfach schöner. Die Gestaltung ist ansonsten zweckdienlich bis hochwertig.
Wie nicht anders zu erwarten ein Brocken. Hier kommt aber erschwerend hinzu, dass das ansonsten hervorragende Insert nur eine große Wanne für alle Holzteile bietet. Mit etwas 3D-Druck ist da sicherlich schnell Abhilfe geschaffen, aber nicht jeder hat so ein Gerät zuhause.
Weimar ist nur mit genau 4 Spielern spielbar und das ist schwierig zu bewerten. Natürlich funktioniert es in dieser Spielerzahl sehr gut, jedoch muss man diese Gruppe auch erstmal formen und fördern, damit das Spiel seine Spannung auch vermitteln kann.
Die Anleitung macht den Job (fast) so gut wie möglich. Eine kleinere Hilfe zu Beginn was die parteispezifischen Ziele sind und worauf man bei Rundenende zu achten hat, hätte etwas Unklarheit während der Erstpartie verhindert. Dennoch macht vor allem das Material hier viel aus, beispielsweise die Vergrößerung des 0-Feldes bei den Debatten.
Die Spieltiefe ist natürlich überwältigend groß, jedoch kann ich nach meinen Gehversuchen noch nicht abschätzen, wie „gespielt“ man sich später fühlt. Genrevertreter wie Twilight Struggle / Gleichgewicht des Schreckens ziehen ihre Faszination auch aus der Frage, wann ich meinem Gegenüber ein Ereignis erlaube und welche Möglichkeiten er aufgrund des Spielfortschritts bereits/noch hat. Für meinen Teil fühlt sich das etwas „wie auf Schienen“ an. Das ist auch bei Weimar letztendlich der Fall, jedoch durch die 3 statt nur 1 Gegenspieler in kleinerem Maßstab. Die Aktionsmöglichkeiten setzen darüber hinaus noch eine Ebene auf, auch wenn ich hier – je nach Partei – wieder auf bestimmte Aktionen beschränkt bin.
Die Spieldauer ist mit 360 Minuten angegeben. 6 Stunden für ein Spiel, das einen dauernd fordert. Ich persönlich mag lange Spiele, weil sie eine gewisse Entwicklung innerhalb einer Partie überhaupt erst möglich machen. Allerdings spielt dann wieder die benötigte Spieleranzahl nicht gerade in die Karten.
Da sich die politische Landschaft und das Geschehen in den Städten stetig verändern, kommt hier keine Langeweile auf. Die Züge sind in der Regel zügig abgehandelt. Einzig die Reaktionen per Reserveaktion bzw. Ereigniskarte stoppen manchmal den Spielfluss – auch wenn sie spannend sind.
129,00 € UVP sind beileibe nicht wenig, aber man bekommt auch eine Menge dafür! Eine Menge Spiel, eine Menge Material und vor allem eine Menge redaktioneller Qualität. Wer mit dem Thema etwas anzufangen weiß und eine passende Spielgruppe hat, der wird sicherlich nicht enttäuscht sein.
Ergebnis
Mit 39/50 Punkten erreicht Weimar – Der Kampf um die Demokratie die Bewertung „Empfehlenswert“!
2025 is in the distant future, right? …nope, that’s right now. Actually, it’s halfway over already. So here are some snapshots from my board gaming in the first six months of this year.
Let’s start with a statistical overview (as of June 29):
The overall trend this year for me has been more digital and more historical gaming – or, from the other side, less on-the-table casual gaming. There are a few reasons for that, including me being mostly homebound for several months taking care of our cat which requires medication twice daily.
Most importantly: She continues to live a happy cat life (except for the few minutes in the morning when she has to take a pill that tastes very bitter)!
Besides that, I’m happy for the gaming I got so far this year. Here are some highlights.
Very early this year, I did in fact go to a convention – and what a convention it was! BochumCon is a small invite-only convention focusing on longer, more complex games (often with a historical theme) organized by designer Matthias Cramer. I got to play (among other things) two games of Weimar (Matthias Cramer, Capstone Games/Skellig Games/Spielworxx), one of Here I Stand (Ed Beach, GMT Games), and the very clever Heat (Asger Harding Granerud/Daniel Skjold Pedersen, Days of Wonder)… and I got to chat, connect, and laugh with a lot of nice people!
I play more digitally these days because I lack some face-to-face opportunities, but I also play more digitally because the offers have gotten very good. My main platform is the admirable Rally the Troops! which allows you to play a variety of historical board games (especially block and card-driven games) in a visually appealing, rules-enforcing manner in your browser for free. I’ve used it to get back to old favorites like 1989 (Jason Matthews/Ted Torgerson, GMT Games) or Maria (Richard Sivél, Histogame) as well as to try out games about which I’ve heard my friends rave for years… for example, the game which I’ve played most often this year so far.
One of my discoveries of last year – so much strategy and bluffing with so little rules overhead!
The struggle between Caesar and Pompeius for mastery of the Roman Republic requires sharp wits, calm nerves, and a little bit of luck when you cast the die crossing the Rubicon. The games are dynamic and play out in a variety of ways – sometimes, your armies stalk each other in the east, sometimes, you slug it out in bloody battles in Spain, and sometimes, amphibious landings turn erstwhile quiet regions into sudden flashpoints. May the gods favor you… but not too much.
I’ve played Julius Caesar around a dozen times since December last year, and it hasn’t lost its charm.
And, to finish this post, here are two new discoveries of mine on Rally the Troops!:
I’m excited to learn new things from and with games. One topic I knew next to nothing about is the 14th century in India. That, however, has changed a bit now due to Vijayanagara, a COIN-lite treatment of the collapse of the Delhi Sultanate’s hegemony under the challenge of invasion from the north (Timur’s Mongols) and centrifugal forces in the south (the nascent Bahmani Kingdom and Vijayanagara Empire).
Chaos – some games hate it, others, like Time of Crisis, embrace it. Whoever wants to be Roman emperor in the tumultuous third century must be prepared to deal with a whole whirlwind of challenges: Angry mobs want to drag your governors into the gutter, Barbarian tribes stand ready to cross the border into your provinces, and, worst of all, the rest of the Roman elite wants to be emperor, too, and will gleefully take whatever you possess. I have been thwarted in my imperial aspirations by my fellow bloggers Dave, Grant, and Michal, and have been loving every minute of it.
What have the first six months of 2025 brought to you in gaming? – Let me know in the comments!
Weimar (Matthias Cramer, Capstone Games/Skellig Games/Spielworxx)
Here I Stand (Ed Beach, GMT Games)
Heat (Asger Harding Granerud/Daniel Skjold Pedersen, Days of Wonder)
1989 (Jason Matthews/Ted Torgerson, GMT Games)
Maria (Richard Sivél, Histogame)
Julius Caesar (Grant Dalgliesh/Justin Thompson, Columbia Games)
Vijayanagara (Cory Graham/Mathieu Johnson/Aman Matthews/Saverio Spagnolie, GMT Games)
Time of Crisis (Wray Ferrell/Brad Johnson, GMT Games)
Anmelden
