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Fall 2025 · Vol. 54 No. 2 · pp. 229–244 

Mennonites and Military Service: From Schleitheim to National Socialism

Astrid von Schlachta

For what is war but a sea of misery? And a desert filled with all kinds of horrors? . . . In order to give this sad evil the appearance of good, it is presented as right and innocent. But who wants to believe that someone can become happy through the misfortune of another? 1

Within the spectrum of Anabaptist beliefs, there were different ideas on how to deal with the power of the sword. There was never one answer to the question of nonviolence—not in the sixteenth century and not later.

Thus reflected Engel Arentson van Dooregeest, the preacher of the Anabaptist congregation De Rijp in the Netherlands in 1693. It was a path that Anabaptist congregations navigated from the sixteenth century to the writing of this statement. That Anabaptists thought about the evil of war, its harm to society, and the horror and suffering inflicted on the p. 230 human population in war was not yet the case in the sixteenth century. Anabaptist statements on nonviolence in the sixteenth century were mainly characterized by discussing the “use” or the “ministry of the sword” as was the case, for example, in the writings of Balthasar Hubmaier.

The question that was raised and discussed in the sixteenth century merely was whether the authorities had the right to maintain order and whether Anabaptists were allowed to participate. The articles of the Schleitheim Confession in 1527 stated, “The sword is an order of God outside the perfection of Christ.” The author, Michael Sattler, followed up that the secular authorities were appointed to use the sword, but in the “perfection of Christ,” on the other hand, “solely the ban is used to admonish and exclude those who have sinned.” Sattler pointing to a clear separation of the kingdoms, a consistent separation of church and state. 2

The authors of the Schleitheim Confession and many early Anabaptists adhered firmly to these beliefs:

  • First, that a Christian must not take up a sword or other weapons, no matter for what purpose.

  • Second, that the authorities will never be able to fulfill Christian norms.

  • And third, that a Christian can therefore not be part of the authorities.

These principles show that nonviolence resulted in withdrawal from society, in separation. Without this “going out from among them,” referring to sixteenth century society, it was not possible to lead a life of nonviolence. 3

These were premises under which it was not possible for Anabaptists to make a positive contribution to society for a long time. What remained for them was retreat and separation. From here, we now start our journey into the later centuries. Many diverse questions pertain to the topic of nonviolence. Thus, we continue to follow the not-straightforward but winding paths. 4 We will now see that five hundred years of Anabaptist-Mennonite nonviolence is a path with ruptures, failures, and ambivalences. In the following thoughts, we will trace the path of Anabaptist-Mennonite nonviolence in the Early Modern period, and we will do this with the help of four highlights.

Exceptions: When Anabaptist Life Suddenly Becomes Possible

In the seventeenth century, with the increasing spread of Enlightenment ideas, gradually the view gained acceptance among the political authorities that Anabaptists can be tolerated without endangering the societal p. 231 order. 5 In order to offer “deviant” groups and subjects a place in their territories, the sovereigns resorted to a means offered by imperial law known as “privileges,” a legal instrument by which certain groups of subjects could be granted special rights. In the specific case of the Anabaptists it served to grant them tolerance with exemptions and thus enabled them to find a place in early modern society while preserving their confessional principles. Examples of Anabaptist settlements with privileges are Friedrichstadt/Eider, Hamburg, Neuwied, and Mannheim.

To be granted privileges meant in the Anabaptist case to have permission not to take up arms and not to swear an oath. However, it was quite common for Anabaptists to have to pay compensation for this exemption or to provide alternative service. For example, in Hamburg the Mennonites received permission from the Danish king—since Altona was Danish at that time—to be exempt from military service in 1601 and then again in 1686. But in the event the town was attacked, the Mennonites had to aid in extinguishing fires on a tower of the city wall. 6 In other regions, as East Frisia or the Palatinate, Mennonites had to pay a certain amount of money to be exempted from military service. In Prussia, this payment became compulsory in 1773. As is well known, the Mennonite money was used to finance the military academy in Kulm. 7

In some regions, Mennonites were allowed to be exempted from military service if they provided a replacement, which meant that a Mennonite did not do any military service but paid another man to do it for him. This caused some debate among Mennonites in the nineteenth century, and the question arose whether one could reconcile it with his conscience to pay others to fight and possibly die for him. The Hessian Mennonite Christian Unzicker addressed this in the Mennonitische Blätter in 1867, and he answered the question in the affirmative, arguing, “I only pay the man who stands up for me for something he would do anyway. I give him something from my funds so that he can improve his situation and probably also put something aside for later days.” 8

Living under the protection of privileges of territorial rulers offered Anabaptist communities shelter for almost two centuries. Even if this form of toleration was always a matter of grace, depending on the respective ruler, it was a life with a certain security. In 1769, the Mennonite Lorenz Friedenreich from Neuwied wrote in a letter to his West Prussian brother-in-faith Hans van Steen, “. . . we stay here under the protection and gracious help of God, both in nonresistance, as well as swearing oaths and adult baptism; . . . we also have our public worship and religious exercises, in which we have not yet been disturbed.” 9 This toleration went hand in p. 232 hand with a conviction that gradually prevailed that the Mennonites were the least dangerous of the “known religious sects” because their conscience did not allow them to bear arms or “rebel against their legitimate authorities.” 10 Thus said an author in the late eighteenth century in the journal Stats-Anzeigen. Toleration by privilege also meant that for about two centuries the debate about whether or not taking up arms was permissible for an Anabaptist conscience was largely obsolete. There was no need to discuss it because privileges represented and respected Anabaptist beliefs.

War Atrocities: Thinking for Society

From the seventeenth century onward, the political theory and the practical policy of rulers found more and more positive answers to the toleration of “dissenters.” Anabaptists were tolerated, that is one side. The other side of the coin was that the Anabaptists were also working to improve their image. The fear of contact with the “world” was diminishing on the Anabaptist side and separation was reduced. This can be shown in statements made by the Doopsgezinde (Mennonite) Tieleman van Sittert in 1664. The message he brought to the public was as follows:

We are not “Anabaptists” but “Mennonites,” and as Mennonites we belong to Protestantism and have nothing to do with (Thomas) “Müntzer” or (the Anabaptists of) “Münster.”

Mennonites thus became open to society, and suddenly it was no longer a “no go” for Mennonites to take office as part of the authorities. 11 Under the impression of growing integration into society, the willingness to assimilate was now also growing.

This brought about a new thinking among Mennonites, and in thinking about society they considered how to make positive contributions based on Anabaptist beliefs—“how to be a positive influence.” It also meant thinking about what influences war had for society. This gives rise to reflections on nonviolence that embraced a much more cosmopolitan and worldly-minded perspective. Nonviolence was now seen as a premise for a Christian society, which was no longer thought of solely in Anabaptist but in Christian terms. From the late seventeenth century on, the first Mennonite writings on nonviolence appeared, which discussed the effects of war on people’s morale and overall wellbeing. It was a process of reflection, reminiscent of the morally responsible nonviolence of Erasmus of Rotterdam as he discussed in his work “The Lamentation of Peace.” 12 In it, p. 233 Erasmus warns the princes urgently against waging war against each other and not to take up arms as Christians against other Christians.

It was Mennonite preachers such as the previously mentioned Engel Arentson van Dooregeest—preacher of the Anabaptist congregation De Rijp, north of Amsterdam—who took up such ideas. The lines quoted at the beginning are from a letter from van Dooregeest to Friedrich von Spanheim, professor of theology at the University of Leiden. The Anabaptist preacher published his epistle in 1693, containing a fierce criticism of Spanheim. In the 1640s, the latter had been involved in the debate about the toleration or expulsion of the Swiss Anabaptists. As is well known, the Swiss Anabaptists experienced very hard times in the seventeenth century: persecution and expulsion. In this situation the Swiss authorities issued a decisive argument against the Anabaptists. They were convinced that Switzerland would need subjects who defend the “fatherland.” Since the Anabaptists did not do this, they should not be tolerated in the country. The following statement by the Swiss envoy to Holland, Francois Louis Pesme, has been handed down from 1710 in the context of the deportation of the Bernese Anabaptists: “The possibility of a defense of our state rests only on the sovereign’s competence” to call his subjects “to arms as often as it is necessary.” The “Anabaptists’ principle of not wanting to bear arms” would lead to the “destruction of the country’s ability to defend itself.” Therefore Anabaptists should leave the country. 13

Friedrich von Spanheim now had repeated all the arguments that emphasized the danger of the Anabaptists and linked them to their nonviolence. Among other things, he had taken up the popular defamation that the Anabaptists were descendants of the Münsterites. And thus, Engel Arentson van Dooregeest responded and protested against the defamation of the Anabaptists. He also addressed the issue of nonviolence in this context and clearly condemned war, even “just war.” He writes, “Some of the holy fathers of our religion have quite rightly declared that even a just war should be clearly hated, especially by Christians who have learned from our meek Saviour to spare the blood of other people. And among all kinds of wars, the one that is most to be rejected and cursed is the one that is waged among such peoples.” 14 He goes on to state,

How should we then fall into decay in our souls, that for the sake of our vain body we not only do not want to suffer injustice, but also do injustice to the most innocent. For justice is felt in war because sometimes the wrongdoer is punished as an example to others. But one is mistaken: for if one punishes the wicked, at the same time the p. 234 innocent will have to suffer the most grievous and miserable things, and very unjustly. For who has ever been able to bind the savage war to the straight poles of justice and equity? . . . That is why a just war is also street robbery, because the aim is to oppress innocent fellow countrymen and the like. 15

Dooregeest based his answer not only on the relevant biblical statements, from the forging of swords into plowshares and Jesus’ instruction to Peter to put the sword back into its sheath. But he also quotes numerous scholars, church fathers, and others. Dooregeest’s missive is an appeal to realize what war actually is. He states that war is often not used to protect a people but as a means of stealing money and property, and to permit various acts of willfulness. As a means of conflict resolution, a war is highly unsuitable.

Mennonites and Weapons: When War Suddenly Puts Money in the Till

Entrepreneurs Who Make a Profit in War

As early as the seventeenth century, Mennonites recognized that war opened up a wide range of opportunities to earn money. Very close to the Menno-Kate, near Wüstenfelde not far away from Bad Oldesloe where Menno Simons lived and spent his last years, there is a small river called Pulverbek. This little river takes its name from the powder mills that used to lie on its banks, which were gunpowder mills. It is known that one of these mills was run by Mennonites, namely from the Roosen family. Later well-known pastors of the Hamburg Mennonite congregation emerged from this family.

Probably as early as 1543, when Anabaptist refugees came to Wüstenfelde together with Menno Simons, Cord Roosen was among them. He set up a gunpowder factory near Wüstenfelde. Furthermore, other gunpowder mills were operated by Mennonites. Gerritt Roosen, a preacher in the Hamburg Mennonite congregation in the eighteenth century, writes that his father Cord Roosen II (1570–1653) had produced fyn pulver or buskruyt, which was a powder of the best possible quality suitable for precision weapons. 16 During the Thirty Years’ War, Cord Roosen II owned three mills near Ratzeburg in southeastern Holstein where he produced gunpowder. In his book Geschichte unseres Hauses, Berend Carl Roosen asks, “Should the oppressive war years have been an advantage for Cord’s business?” 17 p. 235

Weapons on Merchant Ships

From the seventeenth century onward, there were discussions among the Anabaptists in the Netherlands as to whether Mennonite merchants and shipowners were allowed to arm their ships to be safe against pirates and in times of war. The historian Simon Friedrich Rues, who in 1743 published his book Aufrichtige Nachrichten von dem Gegenwärtigen Zustande der Mennonisten oder Taufgesinnten (Straightforward Reports on the Present State of the Mennonists or Anabaptists), describes the debates and their impact. He writes that some Anabaptists would no longer be afraid to transport their goods on armed ships, to arm their own ships, or to carry guns when traveling. According to Rues, this new openness to arm ships was also responsible for the emergence of new names. Anabaptists who no longer rejected cannons on their merchant ships would now call themselves wraklose Christians—that is, revengeless or revengefree Christians. 18

Rues points out that it was the Frisians and the Waterlanders, the two more liberal directions of the Anabaptists, who would have opted for this name change in the early eighteenth century because they wanted to express their nuanced view of nonviolence. Wraklose Christians expressed the following in terms of content. The wraklose Christians were convinced that it should not be allowed to exercise “revenge and violence” in order to attack others, but nonviolence should not be practiced at any price. It was no longer rejected by the wraklose Christians to fight “unjust violence with counter-violence.” They ultimately accepted what had been known since Augustine as “just war.” 19 However, they would reject violent attacks, which is why none of them could be a soldier.

Young Men in Uniform

In the Early Modern period, military service offered the opportunity to earn money, and Mennonites saw it that way too. In 1665, for example, the Doopsgezinden (Mennonites) Ide Klaes and Gilles Cornelesz went to war against England. They justified it by claiming that they needed the money. Poverty drove Mennonites into the army. Klaes and Cornelesz are not the only examples of poor Mennonites who saw good earning opportunities in military service—a quick buck, cheap money to earn a living, though at the expense of denominational convictions. Social inequality existed even in Anabaptist churches, which led to different models of life and different answers to questions of faith. 20

Young Mennonite men in uniform—that was not only a must to earn money, but that could also express social status. And the social status of Mennonites improved more and more. Young men from Mennonite p. 236 congregations wore uniforms because they expressed their affiliation with the bourgeoisie. It is recorded, for example, that young people from the Neuwied congregation dressed in military garb and carried a sword to ride toward the young prince and welcome him, as a special tribute and greeting to the prince. 21 In Krefeld, too, attitudes toward carrying arms changed in the eighteenth century. The sources tell us that Mennonites were part of the guard of honor that in 1763 greeted the sister of Frederick II, Anna Amalie, in Krefeld—armed and in uniform. In 1793, the Mennonite Gottschalk Floh appears in the sources as the officer in charge of the Krefeld civil guard. 22 All this demonstrates the growing integration of the emerging Mennonite bourgeois and industrial class into the general society that surrounded them.

Through the Ages: Nationalism and National Socialism

The reservation toward the military diminished again in the nineteenth century, which was generally a time of great changes. The Mennonites were fundamentally affected by this. 23 The new ideas of human rights, and thus of equal civil rights in society, went along with the requirement that there could no longer be any exception to civil duties—whoever enjoyed civil rights must also take civil duties. That meant that there could be no privileges anymore for anyone. These developments concerned Mennonites the most in their principle of nonviolence. For to be privileged to not take up arms was no longer possible under these conditions. All those who did want to maintain a life of nonviolence now had to go seek greener pastures elsewhere. Most of them therefore made the journey across the pond, as did the Bavarian Mennonite John Horsch who stood out with several reflections on Anabaptist nonresistance. 24

But those who emigrated from Germany were a minority. Most of the Mennonites had already found their place in civil and bourgeois society and willingly wore the uniform for social prestige or fought as soldiers in the various wars. For example, Ulrich Krehbiel from Weierhof fought in the French army and wrote letters home that were garnished with wonderful paintings he himself made. Nevertheless, until the late 1860s Mennonites still fought for exemptions from military service. However, in the end they were only successful in getting permission to serve in nonfighting units of the army, serving in roles for maintenance and health care. The exemptions were laid down in the “Allerhöchste Kabinettsordre” (Supreme Cabinet Decree) of 1868 from King William I of Prussia.

For the whole nineteenth century the discussions among the Mennonites on how to deal with nonviolence persisted. On the one hand, p. 237 there were proponents of the growing integration of state and nation. An example was Leonhard Weydmann, Mennonite preacher in Monsheim of the Palatinate, who, in 1819, brought forward a very interesting argument. He went back to the writings of Menno Simons and distinguished between regulations of a “religious nature” and regulations of a “civil nature.” The former included baptism of faith. The latter Weydmann interpreted as follows:

In addition, there are three other regulations from him [Menno Simons] to which his followers had to commit themselves, but which are not of a purely religious nature. They affect civil life, which is the reason why the Mennonites more and more deviated from them. Namely, the prohibition of bearing arms, the exclusion from civil offices, and the abstention from taking oaths. Only the latter is still in force everywhere. As far as the first two are concerned, it has been recognized that they can no longer be enforced in the old strictness. 25

A second political development had an impact on Mennonite discussions. In the course of the nineteenth century, nationalism became much more aggressive and exclusive. Mennonites started to include themselves more and more in the evolving German nation. All questions concerning military service and denominational peculiarities now were subordinated to the highest commandment of the nation, the love of the fatherland and the protection of the same. The reasoning of the time can be discovered very clearly in an article by Jakob Mannhardt published in 1872 in the journal Mennonitische Blätter. 26 The title reads as follows: “Can and should Mennonites comply with the compulsory military service demanded by the state?” Mannhardt’s argument was based on the assumptions that Mennonites are members of the political community here on earth and enjoy the benefits and protection of the state. For Mannhardt it follows that Mennonites thus also have duties and should share the burden with others. For a long time, according to Mannhardt, Mennonites had not thought about nonviolence but had led a quiet and peaceful life in subordination to the state on the soft cushion of the Privileges. Mennonites would have tacitly accepted this without giving any further thought to the question of nonviolence, but now the issue of nonviolence had arisen again.

For Mannhardt, the fundamental question was what the idea behind compulsory military service was. He replied,

. . . we believe the idea, rooted in Christianity, [is] of the individual giving his own person to the state for the good and best of the whole p. 238 and in the service of the same with life and limb. It is not enough for the individual to prove himself a quiet citizen and subject, to pay wages and duties, and to give honor to whom honor is due; he should also recognize himself as obliged to take a personal part in the protection and safeguarding of the state family [Staatsfamilie] and in the defense against all that can harm its property and welfare.

Necessary to guarantee this order is military service and also compulsory military service—that all “male citizens currently qualified for such service” can be called to that service by an “act of justice against the whole.” 27 Furthermore the love for and protection of the fatherland must be the top priority. Mannhardt is also convinced that separation is no option and not appropriate at all. He argues that the notion of a separation that also involves living “outside the world” was not a Christian notion at all because the Bible instructs, Serve one another. 28

Though many agreed, there were also dissenting voices. John Horsch who migrated to North America issued very critical remarks about military service. And another voice was the elder of the Orlofferfeld congregation, Peter Froese. In 1850 he published a very clear plea for “nonresistance.” 29 Froese’s argument is that military power is needed to maintain order and peace, but he sees this as incompatible with the doctrine of nonviolence. And so he criticizes those Mennonite contemporaries who were prepared to do military service for the “full enjoyment of civil liberties,” as could be heard from Jakob Mannhardt. However, Froese is extremely cautious about the impact of the peace testimony on society. According to the Orlofferfeld elder, he does not expect “all people to become defenseless” because peace on earth can only be achieved if you let God rule and do not seek your “true happiness” in human constitutions and forms of government. 30

The petition of the Mennonites from Baden aimed in a similar direction. It was sent to the Paulskirche Parliament by the elders of the congregations in September 1848. 31 With reference to the fundamental rights of the German people, the Baden Mennonites demanded freedom of conscience in matters of faith. They asked to be allowed to continue paying a tax instead of military service. An exemption for Mennonites from military service would, it was believed, hardly affect the “armed might of the Fatherland.” In the end, the petition was not successful.

The story of the Mennonites’ rethinking of nonviolence continued. When the “Association of German Mennonite Churches”—one of the umbrella organizations in Germany—gave itself a constitution in 1934, nonresistance no longer played a role at all. Only the refusal to take an p. 239 oath is mentioned as the “basis of all morality.” Regarding nonviolence, the constitution says,

The freedom of conscience, for which they had fought and suffered for centuries, became common property [in the eighteenth century]. All the more strongly did the German Mennonites again feel a sense of responsibility and duty toward the people and state in which they lived. First in the West and also partly in the South, then in the North and East of the nascent German Reich, they gradually renounced the exemption from military service that had been granted to them, as they had endeavored to testify to their Christian attitude of peace, in particular through the principle of conscientious objection. During the Second World War, the majority of them accepted service with weapons. 32

Interestingly, there have been critical voices about these passages, but not because they did not focus enough on nonviolence. Critique was issued because these passages did not throw it explicitly enough “into the dustbin of history.” Dirk Cattepoel, for example, a preacher in Krefeld, in a 1934 Mennonitische Blätter article criticized the wording in the constitution of the “Association” that would aim far too much at a compromise: “One of the most important moral and religious questions,” says Cattepoel with regard to dealing with nonviolence, is “left to the individual conscience to decide.” He continues with the remark that the “Association” should have spoken out much more clearly in favor of military service. Catepoel guessed that they probably thought they had found a compromise that would not offend anyone: “You said neither yes nor no, hoped to please everyone—and therefore pleased no one.” The Mennonite preacher from Krefeld presents himself as an advocate of military service:

As Christians and Mennonites, we must bear arms, not because an evil authority forces us to do so or because there is unfortunately not much we can do about it for lack of courage or for the sake of peace, but because we, as Christians that affirm this world, love our people, serve it and want to stand up for its continued existence and happy development, even with our lives. ‘Heroic virtues are the preserving power of our people’ says Adolf Hitler. 33

The same formulations could be heard from other voices. Erich Göttner for instance said succinctly in 1937 that Mennonites in Germany are not “advocates of nonresistance.” And as is widely known, German Mennonites fought in World War II. 34

Conclusion

It is an often-told narrative of Anabaptist history that the Anabaptists were united and unanimous in their position on nonviolence. They are called the “pacifists” of the Reformation era. But within the spectrum of Anabaptist beliefs, there were different ideas on how to deal with the power of the sword. The differing degrees of nonconformity and separation often clashed. There was never one answer to the question of nonviolence—not in the sixteenth century and not later. We are therefore confronted with ruptures and ambivalences in the narrative of the Anabaptist peace testimony.

Looking at violence must of course raise questions about the various forms of violence, also in Anabaptist history: What about “structural violence”? Wasn’t and isn’t church discipline also a form of violence? What about violence expressed verbally in the Anabaptist tradition? What about polemics? Mutual polemical condemnation was often part of Anabaptist history. Anabaptists repeatedly denied each other the justification of faith. They even denigrated each other. Divisions in the communities show the fault lines and the condemnation of the “others” very clearly. And what about physical violence? Domestic violence? Physical altercations? A look at later Anabaptist congregations shows that it is an illusion to think Anabaptists were above such behavior. And we can assume—despite the lack of in-depth studies—that this also applies to the sixteenth century.

If Anabaptist convictions concerning the question of violence in the sixteenth century are placed in a social context, it can be concluded on the one hand that there was the pragmatism of Balthasar Hubmaier. On the other hand, a strict peace testimony meant radical nonconformity that invited expulsion, prison, and even the death penalty. A life of nonviolence could not be lived in the contemporary society of the sixteenth century. Instead, nonviolence meant separation, “a going out from among them” according to 2 Corinthians 6:17. The consequence was that believers had to withdraw from society because society, including its politicians and scholars, could not integrate Anabaptist nonconformity; rather, it defamed, stigmatized, and criminalized Anabaptists. The challenge posed by Anabaptist nonviolence was not accepted. The appeal to the larger society to question widespread norms was answered negatively.

The situation changed from the seventeenth century on. The Anabaptists and the authorities increasingly became fellow countrymen and citizens. In Anabaptist congregations, the developments described above led to an ever-increasing emancipation of the Mennonites. This change increased Mennonite interest in broader society as well, and it p. 241 brought interesting reflections on the social relevance of Anabaptist beliefs. The Anabaptist peace witness was no longer something that could only be lived in separation. The focus now was much more on making a positive contribution to the whole of society. Anabaptism was thus thought to be socially relevant and influential.

Witness to peace was no longer seen as something for the separated congregation but was intended to reach into society itself. In the momentous year of 1848, the West Prussian Mennonite preacher Carl Harder postulated that the “peace” that Christ gives his followers must have an impact on society: “As soon as peace and freedom dwell in the hearts, a general peace of nations must also make the earth happy and the kingdom of God must have come to us.” 35 He continued, “Therefore we cannot take up arms against them [our enemies] without becoming unfaithful to him [Christ].” 36

A look at Anabaptist nonresistance over the centuries makes clear that there was never a unified Anabaptist response. Each generation was confronted with new contexts and circumstances and had to find its answers, just as we must today.

Notes

  1. Engel Arentson van Dooregeest, “Sendschreiben an den Herrn Fridericus Spanhemius,” in Hermann Gottlieb Mannhardt, Die Wehrfreiheit der Altpreußischen Mennoniten: Eine geschichtliche Erörterung (Marienburg, 1863), xxix–xxxvi, esp. xxxi.
  2. Urs B. Leu and Christian Scheidegger, eds, Das Schleitheimer Bekenntnis 1527 (Zug, 2004), 69; regarding the debate about the influence of the Schleitheim Articles among the early Anabaptists, see Arnold Snyder, “The Influence of the Schleitheim Articles on the Anabaptist Movement: An Historical Evaluation,” Mennonite Quarterly Review 63 (1989): 323–44.
  3. Leu/Scheidegger, Schleitheimer Bekenntnis, 67–68.
  4. Regarding the political ethics of the Anabaptists, see Peter Brock, Pacifism in Europe to 1914 (Princeton, 1972); James M. Stayer, Anabaptists and the Sword, 2d ed. (Lawrence, 1976); Clarence Baumann, “Gewaltlosigkeit als Kennzeichen der Gemeinde,” in Hans-Jürgen Goertz, ed., Die Mennoniten (Stuttgart, 1971), 128–40; Gerald Biesecker-Mast, Separation and the Sword in Anabaptist Persuasion: Radical Confessional Rhetoric from Schleitheim to p. 242 Dordrecht (Telford, PA, 2006); Astrid von Schlachta, “Du sollst nicht töten! Täuferische Wehrlosigkeit als Lebenshaltung in der Reformationszeit,” in Angelika Dörfler-Dierken, ed., Reformation und Militär. Wege und Irrwege in fünf Jahrhunderten (Göttingen, 2019), 49–61.
  5. See in general Astrid von Schlachta, Gefahr oder Segen? Die Täufer in der politischen Kommunikation (Göttingen, 2009), esp. 207–26.
  6. Michael D. Driedger, Obedient Heretics: Mennonite Identities in Lutheran Hamburg and Altona During the Confessional Age (Surrey: Ashgate, 2002).
  7. Horst Penner, Die ost- und westpreußischen Mennoniten in ihrem religiösen und sozialen Leben, in ihren kulturellen und wirtschaftlichen Leistungen, vol. 1 (Weierhof, 1978); idem, Die ost- und westpreußischen Mennoniten, vol. 2 (Kirchheimbolanden, 1987); Peter J. Klassen, Mennonites in Early Modern Poland and Prussia (Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2009).
  8. “Zur Stellung eines Ersatzmannes war Christian Unzicker 1867 die Frage auf, ob es eigentlich mit dem Gewissen zu vereinbaren sei, jemanden anderen für einen selbst kämpfen zu lassen.” See Christian Unzicker, “Unsere Wehrlosigkeit,” Mennonitische Blätter 14 (1867): 45.
  9. Quoted from Mannhardt, Wehrfreiheit, 54.
  10. Stats-Anzeigen (ed. by August Ludwig Schlözer, Göttingen) 5 (1783): 72–73.
  11. Christliche Glaubens-Bekentnus Der waffenlosen / und fürnehmlich in den Niederländern (unter dem nahmen der Mennonisten) wohlbekannten Christen, published by T.T.V.S. [Tieleman Tielen van Sittert] (Amsterdam, 1664); the following quotations are quoted from “Eine kurze Darstellung des Glaubens des wehr- und rachlosen Christentums,” in Die ernsthafte Christenpflicht (Aylmer, 1994), 146–83, here 148, 166–67; as background, von Schlachta, Gefahr oder Segen? 199–205.
  12. Brigitte Hannemann, ed., Erasmus von Rotterdam: Die Klage des Friedens (München/Zürich, 1986); Wolfgang Reinhard, “Kriegsstaat und Friedensschluß,” in Ronald G. Asch, Wulf Eckart Voß, and Martin Wrede, eds., Frieden und Krieg in der Frühen Neuzeit: Die europäische Staatenordnung und die außereuropäische Welt (München, 2001), 47–57, here 49–50.
  13. Quoted from Ernst Müller, Geschichte der Bernischen Täufer (Frauenfeld, 1895), 260; as background see von Schlachta, Gefahr oder Segen?, 227–309.
  14. Quoted from Mannhardt, Wehrfreiheit, xxx–xxxi.
  15. Quoted from Mannhardt, Wehrfreiheit, xxxi.
  16. Cf. also Michael D. Driedger, “Kanonen, Schießpulver und Wehrlosigkeit. Cord, Gerritt und B.C. Roosen in Holstein und Hamburg 1532 bis 1905,” Mennonitische Geschichtsblätter 52 (1995): 101–21.
  17. Berend Carl Roosen, Geschichte unseres Hauses (n.p., 1893), 19. p. 243
  18. Simon Friedrich Rues, Aufrichtige Nachrichten von dem Gegenwärtigen Zustande der Mennoniten oder Taufgesinnten (Jena, 1743), 103–4; Troy Osborne, “Mennonites and Violence in Early Modern Amsterdam,” Church History and Religious Culture 95 (2015): 477–94.
  19. Rues, Aufrichtige Nachrichten, 103; regarding the theory of “just war,” see Aaron Looney, “Die Lehre vom gerechten Krieg im frühen Christentum: Augustinus,” in Ines-Jacqueline Werkner and Klaus Ebeling, eds., Handbuch Friedensethik (Wiesbaden, 2027), 225–39.
  20. In general, Osborne, Mennonites and Violence.
  21. Heinrich Donner and Johannes Donner, “Chronik der Mennonitengemeinde Orlofferfelde in Westpreußen 1735–1830,” transcript by Werner Janzen, 1985, 78–79.
  22. See Christoph Wiebe, “Die Krefelder Mennoniten und die Wehrlosigkeit. Eine symbolische Abgrenzung im Wandel der Zeit,” Mennonitische Geschichtsblätter 65 (2008): 114–46, here 133; see also Wolfgang Froese, “Revolution, Erweckung und Entkirchlichung. Die Krefelder Mennoniten von der Zeit der Französischen Revolution bis zur Gründung des Deutschen Reiches (1794–1871),” in Wolfgang Froese, ed., Sie kamen als Fremde: Die Mennoniten in Krefeld von den Anfängen bis zur Gegenwart. Krefelder Studien 8 (Krefeld, 1995), 105–56.
  23. Regarding the situation of the German Mennonites in the nineteenth century, see Mark Jantzen, Mennonite German Soldiers. Nation, Religion, and Family in the Prussian East, 1772–1880 (Notre Dame, IN, 2010); Benjamin W. Goossen, Chosen Nation. Mennonites and Germany in a Global Era (Princeton, 2017).
  24. See “Horsch, John” in MennLex V, https://www.mennlex.de/doku.php?id=art:horsch_john.
  25. Letter of 20.3.1819, in Mennonitische Forschungsstelle Weierhof.
  26. Jakob Mannhardt, “Können und dürfen wir Mennoniten der von dem Staate geforderten Wehrpflicht genügen?” Mennonitische Blätter 19 (1872); see also Karl Koop, “A Compilation for the Mennonite Peace Tradition: Wilhelm Mannhardt’s Defense of Military Service,” Conrad Grebel Review 34, no. 1 (2016): 28–48.
  27. Mannhardt, “Können und dürfen wir Mennoniten,” 42.
  28. Mannhardt, “Können und dürfen wir Mennoniten,” 51; cf. Gal. 5:13.
  29. Peter Froese, “Liebreche Erinnerung an die mennonitischen Glaubens-Genossen,” in Hinsicht des Glaubens-Artikels von der Wehrlosigkeit (Tiegerweide, 1850).
  30. Froese, “Liebreche Erinnerung,” 10, 32.
  31. Rudolf Muhs, “ ‘Das schöne Erbe der Väter.’ Die Petition der badischen Mennoniten an die deutsche Nationalversammlung von 1848 um Befreiung von Eid und Wehrpflicht,” in Mennonitische Geschichtblätter 42 (1985): 85–102; p. 244 Mannhardt, Wehrfreiheit; as background, Jantzen, Mennonite German Soldiers; Goossen, Chosen Nation; Ulrich Hettinger, Hermann von Beckerath: Ein preußischer Patriot und rheinischer Liberaler (Krefeld, 2010).
  32. Vereinigung der Deutschen Mennonitengemeinden, Verfassung vom 11. Juni 1934 (Elbing, 1936), 5; see in general Marion Kobelt-Groch and Astrid von Schlachta, eds., Mennoniten in der NS-Zeit. Stimmen, Lebenssituationen, Erfahrungen (Bolanden-Weierhof, 2017).
  33. Mennonitische Blätter 84 (1937): 42, 44.
  34. Mennonitische Blätter 84 (1937): 57.
  35. Mitteilungen aus dem religiösen Leben, December 1848, 14.
  36. Mitteilungen aus dem religiösen Leben, December 1848, 15.
Astrid von Schlachta is a historian at the Universities of Hamburg and Regensburg and also Director of the Mennonitische Forschungsstelle in Weierhof, Germany. She is a member of the Mennonite congregation in Regensburg and on the board of the Associated Mennonite Churches in Germany (Arbeitsgemeinschaft Mennonitischer Gemeinden in Deutschland).

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