THE HISTORY OF OUR UNIVERSITY 1: Two Names, Two Egos

I am currently spending my semester abroad at the 'Universidade de Coimbra' in Portugal – a university with an incredibly vibrant and visible tradition. When academic celebrations here are held with their own university songs and students walk through the city in their black robes, one inevitably wonders: Why does our own university in Würzburg seem so much more "devoid of history"?

To find out whether that is really true or whether we may simply have forgotten how to perceive our tradition, I interviewed the head of Würzburg University's archives, Dr. Marcus Holtz. In our conversation, he told me how old Würzburg University actually is, what breaks and new beginnings it has experienced, which traditions have disappeared and which continue to this day, often unnoticed.

In doing so, I came across so many fascinating aspects that what was originally planned as a single article quickly became an entire article series on the history and tradition of Julius-Maximilians-Universität.

In the coming weeks, I would like to take you on this journey through "our" university history. So let us begin at the beginning: with the founding in 1402, the revival by Julius Echter von Mespelbrunn, and the question of where the name "Julius-Maximilians-Universität" actually comes from.

Julius-Maximilians-Universität: Two names, two egos

The JMU is today a modern research and study institution. At the same time, it is one of Germany's most historically significant universities. Its roots reach back to 1402, its real breakthrough came in 1582, and the Kingdom of Bavaria later wrote itself into the name with Maximilian. A story of grand plans, political struggles and clever self-marketing.

When you walk across the Hubland campus today or through the Alte Uni in the city centre, much seems self-evident: lecture halls, institutes, regulations, an orderly academic operation. Yet the history of Würzburg University begins at a time when a university was not a state project, but a venture – politically, financially and religiously.

1402: A bishop with a university vision

In 1402, the Würzburg Bishop Johann von Egloffstein received the decisive privilege from the Pope: permission to found a university in Würzburg – a full university with all the important faculties of the time.

The Pope was not merely a ceremonial endorser, but a guarantor of the university-wide recognition of degrees. Without him, a degree earned in Würzburg would have remained a local curiosity. "The central point in the late Middle Ages was that a degree was only worth something if it was recognised everywhere," explains Dr. Marcus Holtz. "And only the Pope could guarantee this recognition."

Johann von Egloffstein had studied at Heidelberg University – the first German university by the way. Apparently this education left a deep impression on him: barely back in Würzburg and elected bishop, he wanted to found "his own" university.

A bold plan and a slow failure

So Würzburg University started as a full university with the four classical faculties: Theology, Law, Medicine and Philosophy. Did you know? The latter played a key role at the time, as it served as the foundational university study that all students were required to complete. "The philosophical faculty was something like the foundation of every academic education," explains Dr. Holtz. "Here, philosophy, logic, rhetoric, grammar and the so-called 'septem artes liberales' – the seven liberal arts – were taught."

But the project stood on shaky financial footing. The Prince-Bishopric of Würzburg was heavily indebted, and the cathedral chapter – a kind of medieval "parliament" – blocked the bishop's reform plans. According to the head of the university archives, Johann von Egloffstein was indeed an innovative, reform-oriented bishop, but politically not a Julius Echter. He quarrelled so badly with his cathedral chapter that it ultimately refused to finance the university.

The consequences were severe: professorships were not permanently secured, teaching areas fell away – and in the end, almost only theology remained. At some point in the 15th century, teaching operations ceased entirely. Legally, the university continued to exist, but in fact it was dead.

Julius Echter: Master of early branding – and perhaps our founding father?

More than a hundred years later, a figure stepped onto the stage whose name shapes the university to this day: Prince-Bishop Julius Echter von Mespelbrunn. He revived the university in 1582, and this time as a robustly equipped institution.

"Julius Echter achieved what the first founder could not: he endowed the university with so much property that it was viable," explains Holtz. "In this sense, he is the true founder of the university."

Echter thought not in years but in centuries. He equipped the university with vineyards, agricultural estates and buildings, a foundation that continues to have an effect today. And he made sure his name was not overlooked in the process. "Echter had an enormous drive to be remembered," the head of the university archives tells us. "He left his coat of arms everywhere: on churches, at the Juliusspital, at the university. Anyone travelling around Würzburg can hardly avoid Julius Echter."

His work took place in the context of the Counter-Reformation. The university became an important instrument for strengthening Catholic education and theology, and, quite incidentally, also Echter's own memory.

No wonder he staged the revival as if it were "his" university. The original medieval founding in 1402 thus recedes far into the background, although it is indispensable for legal continuity.

From the Prince-Bishopric to Bavaria: How Maximilian came to be in the name

In the early 19th century, the political map changed fundamentally. With secularisation, ecclesiastical principalities such as the Prince-Bishopric of Würzburg were dissolved and ecclesiastical domains were brought under state control. Würzburg eventually fell to the Kingdom of Bavaria. The university also passed into state hands.

"Bavaria wanted to bring institutions like universities or cities, which previously had their own privileges and jurisdictions, under state control," says Holtz. This meant disempowerment, but also reform.

The university was thoroughly restructured, received new structures and benefited at the same time: the Bavarian king wanted to make Würzburg a flagship university and deliberately recruited prominent scholars. Because he understood these reforms as a kind of new founding, he wrote himself into the name: the "Julius University" became the Julius-Maximilians-Universität Würzburg.

"The name reflects the two major turning points in the university's history," summarises the head of the university archives. "The revival by Julius Echter and the reorganisation under King Maximilian I. Joseph of Bavaria."

Three lives, one university

Today's JMU thus carries at least three historical layers within it: the first, more fragile founding of 1402, the powerful revival of 1582, and the state reorientation in the 19th century.

That this history not only adorns but shapes character is important to Holtz: "History shapes the character of an institution – just as it does a person. It is precisely the highs and lows, even the unpleasant chapters, that make it understandable who a university is today."

What happens next?:

In the next article we dive deeper into this mediaeval university world: property, privileges, vineyards and why Universität Würzburg once had its own jurisdiction.