Crime Immemorial

Konitz (now Chojnice, Poland) was a modest town in West Prussia with a population of around 10,000 at the turn of the century, including a small but established Jewish minority. By 1856, the Jewish population numbered 429, but it had declined to about 300 by 1900 due to economic shifts and emigration. Jews in Konitz were integrated into local life, often working as merchants, artisans, and butchers. However, underlying tensions existed, exacerbated by economic competition and the growing influence of antisemitic political movements in Germany.

The late nineteenth century saw a surge in politically motivated antisemitism, with parties like the Antisemitic People’s Party gaining traction. Blood libels, which accused Jews of murdering Christians (often children) to drain their blood for Passover matzo or other rituals, had ancient origins—the first recorded case dating to 1150 in Norwich, England—but were being repackaged with pseudoscientific trappings. Experts such as physicians and theologians were called upon to lend credibility to these claims, blending medieval folklore with modern rationalism.

Ernst Winter, an eighteen- or nineteen-year-old student known for his athletic build, partying habits, and romantic pursuits, vanished on March 11th, 1900. Initially, locals assumed he had fallen through the ice while skating on the frozen Monk Lake (Mönchsee), a common winter activity. However, two weeks later, on March 15th, gruesome discoveries shattered this theory. Parts of Winter’s dismembered body began appearing: his torso was found floating in the lake, while other sections—carefully wrapped in paper packages and sewn shut—were scattered at various sites around town. The body appeared to have been drained of blood, a detail that would fuel wild speculation.

Police initially suspected the father of a young woman Winter had been aggressively courting. This man, a local butcher, had publicly threatened Winter for his advances. The dismemberment suggested professional butchery skills, pointing toward someone familiar with animal slaughter. However, this line of inquiry was quickly overshadowed by rumors of Jewish involvement.

As news of the murder spread, antisemitic agitators seized on the timing—close to Passover—and the bloodless state of the remains to accuse Jews of ritual murder. The ancient blood libel myth, which claimed Jews needed Christian blood for religious purposes, was invoked despite lacking any evidence. Suspicion fell on Adolph Lewy, the town’s Jewish butcher, and his son Moritz Lewy. A Christian competitor, Gustav Hoffmann, amplified these claims through an antisemitic newspaper, publishing a “Petition of the Konitz Butcher Gustav Hoffmann Pertaining to the Matter of Winter’s Murder,” which circulated widely with 50,000 copies printed.

By July 1900, over 400 incriminations had been filed, many based on rumors, dreams, or hearsay. Antisemitic media outlets portrayed the murder as part of a Jewish conspiracy, drawing on “scientific” testimony from experts to modernize the accusation. This reflected broader fears in post-Enlightenment Europe, where rationalists grappled with persistent superstition.

The police arrested several Jews on flimsy evidence, including a man named Wolf Israelski, who was quickly acquitted. The main case hinged on testimony from Bernhard Masloff, a petty thief, who fabricated evidence against the Lewys. Adolph Lewy was accused but not convicted. His son Moritz was acquitted of murder but sentenced to four years’ imprisonment for perjury after denying knowledge of Winter. Masloff received a one-year sentence for perjury, though the jury petitioned for his pardon.
In a twist, Kaiser Wilhelm II pardoned Moritz Lewy but denied clemency to Masloff. No one was ever convicted of Winter’s murder, which remains unsolved. The trials exposed the weakness of the accusations, yet they failed to quell public belief in the blood libel.

The accusations ignited anti-Jewish riots in Konitz. Mobs attacked the synagogue, destroyed Jewish homes and businesses, and assaulted individuals. Authorities accused of shielding Jews faced backlash, leading to widespread unrest. While the violence did not escalate to mass destruction, it created an atmosphere of terror, driving many Jews to flee.

The Konitz case devastated the local Jewish community. Economic boycotts and ongoing harassment reduced the population to 257 by 1913 and 110 by 1920, after the town was annexed to Poland post-World War I. No Jews have lived there since World War II.

Nationally, it amplified antisemitic propaganda, contributing to a climate that foreshadowed the Holocaust. Historians like Helmut Walser Smith, in his book The Butcher’s Tale, argue that the affair revealed the fragility of Jewish integration in Germany and the enduring power of myth over reason.

Today, the Konitz affair serves as a cautionary tale about how unfounded accusations can unleash societal hatred, even in ostensibly modern societies.