On a wintery morning in Augsburg the Imperial Diet of the Holy Roman Empire, ruled by Emperor Charles V, gathered to attempt a durable peace settlement for both the Protestant and Catholic communities after years of brutal political violence. However, somebody was missing. Charles V refused to attend on the principle that he would not dignify the division of western Christendom and instead gave the power of peacemaking to his brother Ferdinand. Ferdinand successfully negotiated what is now known as the Peace of Augsburg ushering in a half-century of peace for Germany’s warring religious groups by giving both denominations equal justice under the law. While this may not appear to be groundbreaking, at the time it was revolutionary and led to Ferdinand’s ascension to the throne. There he ruled under the motto, fiat iustitia, et pereat mundus (Let justice be done, though the world perish). An idea that was surely shaped by his experience bringing peace and justice at the cost of the old imperial order. This phrase was also famously used by German philosopher Immanuel Kant to highlight the importance of a universal, absolute standard of justice when unflinchingly–as France smoldered–he used it to justify the revolutionary violence against the decadent bourgeoisie. This period of history along with Heinrich von Kleist’s reading of Kant’s theories significantly influenced his novella focused on the paradoxical nature of justice Michael Kohlhaas.
To understand the role of justice in Michael Kohlhaas one must first examine the author. Kliest was born into an aristocratic Prussian military family at the turn of the nineteenth century and was raised during a time when the ideas behind the Enlightenment appeared to be imploding. The notions that life could be planned, societal perfection could be achieved, and a rationally ordered world was possible, were dashed by the violent revolutionary fervor that engulfed France and the apocalyptic levels of destruction during the Napoleonic Wars. After reading Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason, Kliest appears to have abandoned his own belief in these ideals along with his confidence in the existence of absolute truth and justice. Suffering from this existential crisis he adopted a transient solitary lifestyle in search of a sense of security and the purely knowable. This was a crucial intellectual experience for Kliest as this was when he began experimenting with creative writing focusing on psychologically realistic characters being confronted with ethical paradoxes. Specifically when it came to the Kantian concepts of phenomena (things as they appear), and noumena (things as they are). Michael Kohlhaas embodies this epistemological fascination with the deceptive appearance of the world with an emphasis on the unique complexities of justice. The novella also heavily echoes one of his most overreaching beliefs–die gebrechlich einrichtung der welt (the imperfect or unstable structure or order of the world). In the book the protagonist, Kohlhaas, seems to mirror Kleist’s own quest for pure justice, the situations that cause reasonable men to do unreasonable things, and the implications of Kantian morality, while also incorporating the supernatural tropes of German romanticism.
According to the Encyclopedia Britannica, during the Enlightenment, the idea that “politics [and associated public institutions like courts] could be used to improve the lives of humankind” flourished. This concept was reflected in the Rousseauian faith citizens were supposed to have in the government's ability to carry out justice in a way that protected an individual's liberty and respected their equality. Kleist inverts both of these assumptions with what Professor of German Nigel Reeves calls a “negative expression of the ideals of the enlightenment.” Within the first few pages of the story, we see Kohlhaas, a representative of the individual, having both his freedom of movement arrested and property confiscated and later defiled by the state actor–the Junker Wenzel von Tronka. This inversion of the state as a righteous judge represents the paradoxical nature of justice Kleist weaves throughout the story. His focus on the perversion of the enlightenment is made clear from the start in the first paragraph informing the reader that Kohlhaas would be someone to revere if his pursuit of justice did not make him a robber and a murderer. Another prime example of the paradoxical nature of justice is Kohlhaas’ fate after winning his suit in Saxony against the corrupt Junker von Tronka.
“Well Kohlhaas, the day has come on which justice will be done to you! Look: here I deliver to you everything you were deprived by force at Tronka Castle and which I, as your sovereign was duty bound to recover for you…So, Kohlhaas the horse-dealer, you have thus been given satisfaction; prepare now to make satisfaction in your turn to His Imperial Majesty, whose representative stands here, for your violation of His Majesty’s public peace!”
This scene signals a reestablishment of the equilibrium of the Enlightenment order of the world with a structure that balances the reward and the punishment harkening back to Kleist’s idea of die gebrechlich einrichtung der welt. Throughout the story, Kohlhaas consistently experiences malpractice and maltreatment through the robbing of his horses, dismissal of his lawsuit, and killing of his wife. But, Kleist leaves it open to the reader to determine if Kohlhaas’ criminality and punishment were justified.
This uncertainty is further expanded upon by the seemingly unreasonable–bordering on insane–actions taken by Kohlhaas during his crusade against the Junker von Tronka by a private war. At a certain point in this, he declares himself “an emissary of the Archangel Michael, who has come to punish with fire and sword all those who shall stand on the Junker’s [von Tronka] side in this quarrel, and to chastise in them the deceitfulness which now engulfs the whole world.” These are unquestionably the words of a man with a diseased and deluded devotion to revenge. However, Kliest challenges this assumption by inserting a delphic confrontation with Protestant theologian Dr. Martin Luther whom Kohlhaas greatly respects. During this encounter, Kohlhaas argues that society, by refusing him the law's protection, set him outside the law and compelled him to use violent force in the pursuit of justice. Luther, in the human spirit of the Enlightenment, urges him to forgive his enemies but Kohlhaas remains unwavering in his commitment to justice by his own means–going so far as to refuse absolution for his sins. The refusal of forgiveness to continue seeking justice against a Mephistophelean villain through unholy revenge is a common theme in Kleist’s work being repeated in his 1811 tale The Foundling where the father refuses absolution before his execution in order to seek eternal revenge in hell on his deceased malefactor who he has already killed. In a time of deep religiosity, this rejection of divine grace represents the furthest an individual can go in the pursuit of justice. By no coincidence, this story set during the Augsburg peace process, perfectly demonstrates the spirit behind Ferdinand I’s motto fiat iustitia, et pereat mundus with the characters willing to not only sacrifice their worldly lives by violating social norms–much like Ferdinand legitimizing protestants–but also literally letting their chance at heavenly redemption perish in the name of their pursuits.
This idea of justice at any cost reflects aptly on Kleist’s own experience with Kant’s idea of egalitarianism through the categorical imperative. This idea of a “universal moral law, by which all rational beings are by duty constrained to act,” undeniably impacted his view of what justice should look like. However, Kohlhaas is not yet aware of his role in this philosophical system of seeking justice and cedes the job to the state by continuing to participate in the legal system. He first recognizes his personal responsibility in the pursuit of justice when Lisbeth, his wife, is killed while trying to deliver his suit to an elector forcing him to turn towards extrajudicial measures. Only after his amnesty is granted by Luther and a hearing for his case guaranteed does his faith in these institutions return. This drive for justice through his inner maxims is again awakened after his amnesty is revoked and he observes his case being delayed and manipulated by a corrupt bureaucracy. But once Kohlhaas wins his suit he reaccepts positive law after achieving his justice, understanding rationalizing his execution as fair for his gross violation of the imperial peace. Through this Kleist suggests that the distinction between legal justice, moral justice, and revenge is not always so clear, “for even Kohlhaas himself, who is so focused on his own view of justice, cannot seem to tell the difference.” This realistic view of the obscurity between justice and vengeance is reflected by Neitzche’s punny epigram: ich bin gerecht (I am just) means ich bin gerächt (I am avenged). Most everything done by Kohlhaas reflects both an understanding of and a challenge to Kantian epistemology.
Kleist suggests that the distinction between legal justice, moral justice, and revenge is not always so clear.
One of the most regularly criticized components of Michael Kohlhaas was the introduction of the gypsy woman and locket containing the fates of Saxony’s rulers in the 1810 rewrite. It is overwhelmingly written off by scholars as a cheap jab at a French-aligned Saxony from a staunch German nationalist or a cheap attempt to incorporate the popular mysticism of the time. However, not enough credit has been given to the role the gypsy plays in reinforcing Kohlhaas’ pursuit of pure egalitarian justice. The gypsy, by giving Kohlhaas the prophetic locket as a bargaining chip, gives him the chance to save his own life. Something that he chooses not to act upon demonstrating his commitment to the Kantian ideals Kleist studied by accepting his lawful punishment for violating the imperial peace. While this was likely an artistic afterthought it allows the reader another avenue to explore both Kohlhaas and Kliest's psyche.
Michael Kohlhaas is truly a product of its time with the protagonist to match. Kohlhaas himself is the embodiment of the German Romantic man. An existential figure on a quest for authenticity, who loses faith in enlightenment values and has to take matters into his own hands. The novella itself drips the zeitgeist of a growing nationalism and the influence of Goethe’s Faust and E.T.A Hoffman’s Sandman–albeit with an ill-developed excursion into the occult. Nevertheless, this work represents one of the most complete and enduring examinations of justice in literary history. With its focus on the complexities and tacit endorsement of violence as a means to an end, it radically departs from the Enlightenment ideals of the past. Through this work, Kleist thoughtfully reflects on the perishing of the knowable and raising of a brave new world.