The “Catherine fever” in a festival makes the impossible possible.
The Katharinen Tower commemorates the Abbess Katharina von Zimmern.
Dario Vereb / NZZaS
A phallic symbol of all things! And one that carries the burden of bridging the centuries. The forty meter high scaffolding, which will stand next to the Fraumünster in Zurich until mid-December, is not only intended to be a reminder of the importance that the former nunnery had in the Middle Ages.
Even more, the installation is a homage to Katharina von Zimmern, the last abbess of the monastery – and to 499 other Zurich women. Their names are printed on the green ribbons that wrap the scaffolding. In short: The Katharinenturm, as it is called, is intended to make influential women visible. In contrast to men, they have hardly been honored by public monuments. The tower is one of several initiatives that are changing that.
The St. Catherine’s Tower is part of the Zurich St. Catherine’s Festival, which was initiated primarily by women from church circles. The occasion is an anniversary: in 1524, five hundred years ago, Katharina von Zimmern handed over her monastery to the city of Zurich, which had joined the Reformation.
The government banned the old religion, cleaned the churches of pagan trinkets, and drove out the parasitic monks and nuns. Fraumünster also came under pressure. It was one of the most important religious communities. The king of the German-Roman Empire had granted him significant rights; the abbess was an imperial prince and even the city ruler. She appointed the officials.
The St. Catherine’s Tower is part of the Zurich St. Catherine’s Festival, which was initiated primarily by women from church circles.
Dario Vereb / NZZaS
With doe eyes and high cheekbones
But why did the powerful woman voluntarily abdicate in 1524? The festival tells us the following story: Katharina von Zimmern makes the wise decision to give up the monastery in order to prevent bloodshed. If she had refused, troops loyal to the Pope might have marched into Zurich and a civil war would have broken out.
With her far-sighted actions, the abbess recognizes the signs of the times. It creates peace for the population and paves the way for the Reformation, which represents a turning point for Zurich, Switzerland and Europe. The dilapidated church with its sale of indulgences is renovated, and Zurich subsequently develops into a prosperous city.
Of course, one would like to know what the peaceful and selfless woman looked like – not a heroine without a face! Because no portrait of Katharina has survived, the organizers quickly used artificial intelligence to create an old-fashioned picture that is clearly visible on the festival’s website.
Accordingly, the abbess was a very attractive woman with porcelain-clear skin and silky, shimmering hair, with doe eyes and high cheekbones. A large key hangs over her chest – the key to the city, but also the key to Zurich’s prosperous future. And maybe even to the hearts of the viewer?
“Catherine fever” makes the impossible possible. A new city saint is enthroned after the reformers have eliminated the two old patrons Felix and Regula.
She couldn’t prevent a bloodbath
What do specialist historians and medievalists say about the historical interpretation of the festival? They express doubts, but behind closed doors. They say they don’t know the few relevant sources. Nobody wants to be an expert; Apparently the event has so far been researched almost exclusively by church historians and theologians. And no one wants to expose themselves.
Like every story, that of the “visionary abbess” could be told differently. Although Katharina von Zimmern still formally has the right to be the city’s ruler, her predecessors were gradually stripped of their power by the city council. Katharina’s political scope is therefore limited.
It could neither prevent a bloodbath nor help the Reformation. She had no choice but to accept the council’s decision to dissolve the monastery. Last but not least, she benefited from this: she is the only one allowed to keep her residence there and she also receives a generous pension. The princess abbess can continue her life as a mistress.
Katharina von Zimmern, who comes from Swabia, belongs to the nobility, like the other nuns in the Fraumünster monastery. Women have the privilege of leading a more than good life. They are part of the “leisure class” that does not have to work but exists at the expense of its subjects, the farmers and rural people it exploits. This rule is not affected by the Caritas of the religious communities, only mitigated.
Until the Reformation of 1525, the Fraumünster was not only a church, but also a monastery.
Zurich City Archives
Katharina von Zimmern was certainly an exciting person. According to what her biographers report, the abbess had an illegitimate child and a penchant for federal mercenary leaders. She was active as a patron of the arts and was interested in humanism. But it probably didn’t have the quasi-statesmanship and political-historical relevance that the festival ascribes to it.
The Reformation, which the festival celebrates as progress, could also be interpreted alternatively. Zwingli and Co. are not only putting an end to the colorful universe of faith and the Catholic cult of Mary, they are also restricting women’s living space and rights.
Communities like the Fraumünster Monastery, in which women live independently with almost no male supervision and can do whatever they want, are being abolished. The reformers believe that women belong in marriage and under the hood. Katharina, who is about to get married, must have mourned the good old days for a while.
Some of the festival’s image of history seems traditional, even restorative: the woman as a peacemaker, the Reformation as progress, history as political history. The Bernese historian Beatrix Mesmer, who died in 2015, once said: History is a cushion of identity. People choose what suits them from the past and settle comfortably in the settings they have created. The main thing is that they are soft.
