The Golem (1920): A Jewish Legend of Persecution, Filmed 13 Years Before the Nazi Dictatorship

 





R v Garcia



The Golem (1920): A Jewish Legend of Persecution, Filmed 13 Years Before the Nazi Dictatorship

By R.V. Garcia
Revista & Escolas de Mistérios | Multidisciplinary Encyclopedia

Introduction: An Ancient Legend on the Threshold of a Dark Century

Released in Germany in 1920, Der Golem, wie er in die Welt kam (The Golem: How He Came into the World) is one of the most remarkable works of German silent cinema. Directed by Paul Wegener and Carl Boese, the film brings to life an ancient Jewish legend: the creation of an artificial being made of clay, animated through mystical knowledge in order to protect a persecuted community.

The film is much more than a supernatural fantasy or an early example of cinematic horror. Beneath its expressionist imagery lies a complex narrative about religious persecution, political authority, collective survival, the limits of human power, and the ethical responsibility of those who create something they may ultimately be unable to control.

Its historical context gives the work an additional dimension. The film premiered in Berlin on October 29, 1920, during the turbulent years of the Weimar Republic. Thirteen years later, Adolf Hitler would become Chancellor of Germany, and the Nazi regime would begin dismantling democratic institutions and systematically persecuting Jewish communities.

This historical proximity invites reflection, but it requires precision. The Golem did not predict the Holocaust, nor should it be interpreted as a direct representation of events that had not yet occurred. Its story belongs to a much older tradition of Jewish folklore and persecution narratives. Nevertheless, the film's themes acquire a particularly disturbing resonance when viewed in light of the catastrophe that unfolded in Europe during the following decades.

This investigation examines the film, its Jewish cultural origins, its historical setting, its cinematic innovations, and its continuing philosophical relevance.

1. Film Identification and Production

Original title: Der Golem, wie er in die Welt kam
English title: The Golem: How He Came into the World
Country: Germany
Year: 1920
Premiere: October 29, 1920, Berlin
Directors: Paul Wegener and Carl Boese
Screenplay: Paul Wegener and Henrik Galeen
Principal cast:

  • Paul Wegener as the Golem
  • Albert Steinrück as Rabbi Loew
  • Lyda Salmonova as Miriam
  • Ernst Deutsch as Famulus
  • Hans Sturm as Florian

Cinematography: Karl Freund, with additional photographic contributions credited to Guido Seeber and Martin J. Knoops in some film records.
Production company: Projektions-AG Union (PAGU).
Art direction and set design: Hans Poelzig.
Runtime: Varies by restoration and distribution; surviving versions commonly run approximately 89–91 minutes.

Paul Wegener had already explored the Golem legend in two earlier productions: Der Golem (1915), now preserved only in fragments, and Der Golem und die Tänzerin (1917), a comic treatment. The 1920 film became the best-known and most influential of the three.

Its visual language, elaborate sets, dramatic lighting, and unusual central character helped establish it as a landmark of German silent cinema.

2. The Golem in Jewish Tradition: The Creation of an Artificial Being

The word golem comes from Hebrew and is associated with something unfinished, unformed, or not yet fully developed. One of its best-known biblical appearances is in Psalm 139:16, where the Hebrew term golmi is traditionally translated in ways that evoke an unformed substance or an embryo.

The idea of creating an artificial human being from inanimate matter has deep roots in Jewish religious and mystical thought. It appears in discussions associated with the Talmud, particularly Sanhedrin 65b, and in later mystical traditions influenced by the Sefer Yetzirah, commonly translated as The Book of Creation.

The Sefer Yetzirah discusses creation through the Hebrew alphabet and the relationships between letters, numbers, and the structure of the universe. It does not itself tell the familiar story of a rabbi creating a clay servant in Prague. Rather, later mystical interpretations and literary traditions helped develop the concepts that would become associated with the Golem.

Over time, the figure became especially connected to Rabbi Judah Loew ben Bezalel, known as the Maharal of Prague, a sixteenth-century Jewish religious scholar.

According to a famous legend, the Maharal created a Golem to defend Prague's Jewish community against persecution. The creature was made of clay and animated through sacred knowledge, becoming a powerful protector.

It is important, however, to distinguish historical evidence from later tradition. There is no reliable contemporary historical evidence demonstrating that Rabbi Judah Loew actually created a Golem. The association between the Maharal and the creature developed through later literary and folkloric accounts.

In some versions of the legend, the Golem is animated by placing a sacred name or parchment inside its mouth. In others, the Hebrew word emet—meaning “truth”—is written on its forehead. Removing the first letter, aleph, transforms emet into met, meaning “dead.”

These details vary between versions and should not be automatically attributed to every adaptation.

The Golem is therefore not simply a monster. It is a figure situated at the intersection of religious imagination, mystical speculation, communal memory, and philosophical questions about creation.

3. The Film's Complete Narrative: A Community Under Threat

The film takes place in sixteenth-century Prague, during the reign of Emperor Rudolf II.

The Jewish community faces a decree ordering its expulsion from the city. Rabbi Loew, a respected religious leader and scholar, becomes increasingly concerned about the fate of his people.

Through astrology and mystical practices, he discovers that a catastrophe threatens the community. Determined to protect them, he turns to esoteric knowledge and attempts to create an artificial being from clay.

The Rabbi invokes the supernatural figure Astaroth and obtains the sacred formula necessary to animate his creation.

The clay figure gradually comes to life. Played by Paul Wegener himself, the Golem is physically imposing, powerful, and largely silent. It is not born through natural processes but constructed through the intervention of its creator.

The Rabbi initially uses the creature as a servant and protector.

When the Golem is presented before the Emperor, Rabbi Loew recounts the history of the Jewish people. During the presentation, the imperial palace begins to shake and its structure appears to collapse. The Golem holds up the threatened ceiling, saving the Emperor and his court.

Impressed and grateful, the Emperor withdraws the expulsion order, allowing the Jewish community to remain in Prague.

For a moment, the Golem has fulfilled its purpose: it has protected the people for whom it was created.

But the story does not end with this apparent victory.

Once the immediate danger has passed, Rabbi Loew seeks to deactivate the creature. His assistant, Famulus, has other intentions. Driven by personal motives and romantic jealousy involving Florian and Miriam, the Rabbi's daughter, he brings the Golem back to life.

The creature becomes increasingly difficult to control. Its strength, initially employed for protection, turns into a source of danger.

The Golem goes on a destructive rampage, threatening the very community it had been created to defend.

The situation is finally resolved when a little girl approaches the creature and removes the magical object responsible for its animation. The Golem collapses, returning to an inert state.

The conclusion leaves the audience with a powerful question: when a creation becomes uncontrollable, who bears responsibility for the consequences?

4. German Expressionism: Architecture as a Psychological Landscape

One of the film's greatest achievements is its visual design.

The Golem belongs to the tradition of German Expressionist cinema, a movement that transformed film architecture, lighting, composition, and performance into instruments for representing psychological and emotional states.

Rather than attempting to reproduce ordinary urban architecture, the film creates a distorted and theatrical world.

The streets, buildings, rooms, and passages appear almost alive. Their irregular shapes and exaggerated proportions produce an atmosphere of confinement, anxiety, and uncertainty.

The sets designed by Hans Poelzig, together with Marlene Moeschke's artistic contributions, helped establish the film's distinctive visual identity.

The architecture is not merely a background for the action. It becomes part of the narrative itself.

The city appears to reflect the vulnerability of its inhabitants, while the Golem's massive physical presence contrasts with the fragile environment surrounding him.

This approach connects the film with another major work of German Expressionism released in the same year: Robert Wiene's The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920).

Although the two films explore different narratives, both use distorted environments to express fear, instability, manipulation, and the fragility of human perception.

The Golem's world is therefore not simply a historical reconstruction of Prague. It is a symbolic landscape in which political oppression and psychological tension become visible.

5. Germany After World War I: The Historical Climate of 1920

To understand the film's significance, it is necessary to consider the Germany in which it was produced.

World War I had ended in 1918. The German Empire had collapsed, the monarchy had been replaced by a republic, and the country was experiencing political instability, economic hardship, social conflict, and the consequences of military defeat.

The Weimar Republic, established after the war, faced serious challenges from both the political left and right.

Anti-Semitism was not a new phenomenon in Germany or Europe. Jewish communities had experienced centuries of religious discrimination, exclusion, violence, and political hostility.

During the postwar period, anti-Semitic rhetoric and conspiracy theories circulated in several sectors of German society. Jewish refugees from Eastern Europe also faced hostility, particularly as pogroms and political violence drove people westward.

The film's narrative of a Jewish community threatened with expulsion therefore had a cultural resonance that extended beyond its medieval setting.

It is not necessary to claim that the film was a direct political manifesto to recognize that its subject matter could speak to contemporary anxieties.

The story of a community seeking protection against arbitrary authority was particularly meaningful in a country struggling to redefine its political and social identity.

6. Thirteen Years Before the Nazi Dictatorship: The Road to 1933

The historical interval between the film's release and the establishment of Nazi dictatorship is one of the most striking aspects of this investigation.

The Golem premiered in October 1920.

On January 30, 1933, Adolf Hitler was appointed Chancellor of Germany.

On February 27, 1933, the Reichstag building, home of the German parliament, was set on fire. The Nazi leadership exploited the event by presenting it as evidence of an alleged Communist uprising.

On February 28, President Paul von Hindenburg signed the Decree for the Protection of the People and the State, commonly known as the Reichstag Fire Decree.

The decree suspended fundamental civil liberties, including freedom of expression, freedom of the press, and freedom of assembly. It also enabled the regime to arrest political opponents without the normal legal protections.

On March 23, 1933, the Enabling Act was passed, allowing Hitler's government to enact laws without parliamentary approval and effectively consolidating dictatorship.

The persecution of Jewish people then intensified through successive legal, administrative, economic, and physical measures.

In September 1935, the Nuremberg Laws stripped Jews of German citizenship and prohibited marriages between Jews and people classified as being of German or related blood under Nazi racial ideology.

On November 9–10, 1938, the pogrom known as Kristallnacht, or the Night of Broken Glass, brought widespread destruction of synagogues, Jewish businesses, homes, and institutions, accompanied by murder and mass arrests.

During World War II, Nazi Germany and its collaborators carried out the Holocaust, the systematic persecution and murder of approximately six million European Jews between 1941 and 1945.

This chronology demonstrates why the film's historical context deserves attention.

However, it is essential to avoid a misleading interpretation: the Reichstag Fire Decree did not create anti-Semitism, nor did the Holocaust begin with that decree. Anti-Jewish persecution had a much longer history, and the Holocaust developed through a process of escalating exclusion, dispossession, deportation, mass violence, and systematic murder.

The film was made before the Nazi dictatorship existed. Its story emerged from Jewish folklore and from a European history in which religious persecution was already a recurring reality.

The historical tragedy that followed gives the film a disturbing retrospective dimension, but it does not transform the film into a prophecy.

7. Earlier Persecutions: A Longer European History

The persecution of Jewish communities did not begin in twentieth-century Germany.

Across medieval and early modern Europe, Jewish populations experienced restrictions on residence and occupation, forced conversions, expulsions, discriminatory taxation, accusations of ritual crimes, and episodes of organized violence.

The Spanish Inquisition, established in 1478 under the Catholic Monarchs, operated in a different historical and institutional context from the Nazi regime.

In 1492, the Crown of Castile and the Crown of Aragon issued decrees ordering Jews to leave their territories unless they converted to Christianity. Those who converted, known as conversos or New Christians, could subsequently face suspicion and investigation concerning the sincerity of their religious conversion.

The Inquisition investigated religious orthodoxy and, in particular, allegations of secret adherence to Judaism among some converts.

These historical events must not be treated as identical to the Holocaust.

The Inquisition was a religious tribunal operating within a premodern system of religious authority. Nazi persecution was based on a modern racial ideology that classified Jews as an allegedly biological enemy, regardless of individual belief or religious conversion.

The comparison is useful only when it helps us understand the long history of European anti-Judaism and anti-Semitism without erasing the specific characteristics of each period.

The Golem legend belongs to this wider cultural history of vulnerability, survival, and the search for protection.

8. The Golem and Frankenstein: Two Different Visions of Artificial Creation

The film inevitably invites comparison with Mary Shelley's Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus, published in 1818.

Both stories explore the creation of an artificial being and the consequences of human ambition.

But their origins and philosophical foundations are different.

In Shelley's novel, Victor Frankenstein is a scientist who attempts to overcome the limits of nature through experimental knowledge. His creation becomes a tragic figure, rejected by its creator and by society.

In the Golem tradition, creation is connected to Jewish mystical thought, sacred language, and the relationship between human beings and divine creative power.

The Golem is often created not to satisfy individual ambition but to protect a threatened community.

The two figures nevertheless share a central question: what happens when a created being acquires a life of its own?

The comparison becomes even more interesting when we consider later works of science fiction.

In Fritz Lang's Metropolis (1927), an artificial human-like machine becomes an instrument of manipulation and social disorder.

In Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), the computer HAL 9000 raises questions about machine intelligence, authority, trust, and human dependence on technology.

These works belong to different historical periods and intellectual traditions, but they share an enduring concern: the relationship between creators and their creations.

9. The Golem and Contemporary Artificial Intelligence

The Golem also offers an interesting philosophical point of comparison with contemporary artificial intelligence.

This is an analogy, not a claim that the Golem was an early technological robot or that ancient Jewish mysticism anticipated modern computer science.

The creature in the film is animated through supernatural and folkloric mechanisms. Contemporary artificial intelligence, by contrast, is developed through computational systems, data, mathematical models, and engineering.

Nevertheless, the underlying ethical question remains relevant.

A creator may develop a powerful system for a specific purpose, but the consequences of its use can extend beyond the original intention.

The film presents this problem through the Golem's transformation from protector into a destructive force.

In modern technological debates, similar questions arise around responsibility, human oversight, misuse, unintended consequences, and the limits of control.

The central issue is not simply whether a creation is powerful. It is whether its creators and operators understand the consequences of giving it power.

The Golem therefore remains a useful cultural metaphor for discussing the ethics of artificial creation.

10. Is the Golem a Monster, a Victim, or a Protector?

One of the most interesting aspects of Wegener's film is the ambiguity of its central character.

At first, the Golem appears to be an instrument of protection. He is created to save a persecuted community from expulsion.

Later, he becomes a threat to that same community.

Yet the creature is not presented as a conventional villain with clearly defined malicious intentions.

He is a being brought into existence by others, given a purpose, and then subjected to decisions made by his creator and by those who manipulate him.

This raises an uncomfortable question: should the Golem be held responsible for actions that arise from the way he was created, animated, and controlled?

The film does not offer a simple philosophical answer.

Instead, it places the audience before a conflict between intention and consequence.

The Golem may be dangerous, but the danger is inseparable from the choices of the human beings around him.

11. The Architecture of Fear and the Fragility of Power

The film's expressionist architecture also deserves a political interpretation.

The distorted buildings and narrow spaces create a world in which individuals seem small and vulnerable in relation to the structures surrounding them.

The imperial palace, apparently a symbol of authority and stability, is itself threatened by collapse.

The Golem saves the Emperor and his court by physically holding up the ceiling. This moment is particularly significant: the persecuted community's protector becomes the instrument through which the ruler's own life is preserved.

The Emperor then withdraws the expulsion order.

The scene suggests a striking paradox. A community that has been threatened by political authority is saved by a being created outside the ordinary structures of that authority.

The film does not need to be interpreted as a direct political allegory to make this contrast meaningful.

Its imagery raises questions about power, dependence, fear, and the fragile foundations of institutions.

12. The Golem in Jewish Cultural Memory

The Golem has survived because it can be interpreted in many different ways.

It is a figure of protection, but also of danger. It represents the human desire to create, but also the limits of human control.

For Jewish communities, the legend has often been connected to historical vulnerability and the hope that a protector might emerge when ordinary institutions fail.

Its association with Prague became particularly influential in nineteenth-century literary and folkloric accounts. The legend was subsequently adapted through literature, theater, cinema, and other forms of popular culture.

The 1920 film played an important role in bringing this figure to an international audience.

Its visual interpretation helped establish the Golem as one of the most recognizable artificial beings in the history of cinema.

13. A Film That Was Not a Prophecy

The title of this investigation highlights the fact that The Golem was released thirteen years before the Nazi dictatorship.

That interval is historically important, but it must not be turned into an unsupported claim.

The film did not predict Hitler's rise to power, the Nuremberg Laws, Kristallnacht, or the Holocaust.

Its narrative comes from a much older tradition, and its immediate historical setting was the Germany of the early Weimar Republic.

What makes the film so compelling today is the way its central themes intersect with later history.

A Jewish community faces persecution. Political authority threatens expulsion. A protector is created through extraordinary means. The creature initially saves the community, but eventually becomes uncontrollable.

The story does not reproduce the events of the Holocaust. It does, however, invite reflection on the vulnerability of minorities, the consequences of intolerance, and the danger of political power without ethical limits.

Historical interpretation must remain attentive to differences between periods. Recognizing connections does not require confusing them.

14. Reflection: What Does It Mean to Create Something We Cannot Control?

More than a century after its release, The Golem remains relevant because its questions have not disappeared.

Human beings continue to create powerful instruments, systems, and institutions in the hope of solving problems.

But every creation carries the possibility of consequences that exceed the intentions of its creators.

The Golem is born as a protector. His existence is justified by the danger facing the Jewish community. Yet once the immediate threat disappears, the creature becomes a problem that its creator can no longer easily resolve.

This transformation invites us to consider the relationship between power and responsibility.

It also reminds us that a being created to serve a purpose may become the victim of the very people who claim to control it.

Perhaps the film's greatest achievement is that it does not reduce this question to a simple battle between good and evil.

Instead, it presents a tragic chain of decisions in which fear, ambition, jealousy, authority, and the desire for protection become entangled.

The Golem is both a creation and a warning.

Conclusion: An Enduring Masterpiece of Silent Cinema

The Golem: How He Came into the World is far more than an early horror film.

It is an important work of German Expressionist cinema, a creative adaptation of Jewish folklore, and a narrative rich in historical and philosophical possibilities.

Its story connects an ancient legend to the anxieties of postwar Germany, while its visual language demonstrates the extraordinary artistic potential of silent cinema.

The film also offers a lasting meditation on persecution, collective survival, artificial creation, and the ethical responsibilities associated with power.

Its release in 1920, thirteen years before Hitler became Chancellor, gives it a particularly striking place in historical retrospect. But its importance does not depend on the idea that it predicted the future. Its value lies in the older questions it brings to the surface—questions about intolerance, human ambition, the vulnerability of communities, and the consequences of creations that escape human control.

More than a century later, the Golem remains alive in our cultural imagination.

Not because it was made of clay, but because the questions it represents are still part of the human condition.


Methodological Note

This article distinguishes between:

  • Documented facts: film production, historical dates, political events, and verifiable historical records.
  • Religious and folkloric traditions: accounts of the Golem, mystical interpretations, and the later association with Rabbi Judah Loew of Prague.
  • Critical interpretations: readings of the film's visual language, political context, and philosophical themes.
  • Contemporary analogies: comparisons with Frankenstein, modern science fiction, and artificial intelligence.

The film's narrative should not be confused with independently documented historical events. Nor should the historical persecution of Jewish communities in different periods be treated as a single, uniform phenomenon.

The purpose of this investigation is to examine the evidence, identify meaningful connections, and preserve the distinction between historical documentation and interpretation.

Complete Bibliography and Research Sources

A. The Film and German Expressionist Cinema

  1. Wegener, Paul; Boese, Carl (directors). Der Golem, wie er in die Welt kam [The Golem: How He Came into the World]. Germany, 1920. Projektions-AG Union (PAGU).

  2. German History in Documents and Images (GHDI). “Paul Wegener, The Golem: How He Came into the World (1920).”
    https://germanhistorydocs.org/en/weimar-germany-1918-1933/paul-wegener-the-golem-how-he-came-into-the-world-1920

  3. Maya Barzilai. The Golem, How He Came into the World. Camden House, Boydell & Brewer, 2020.
    https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctv134vjq5

  4. Eisner, Lotte H. The Haunted Screen: Expressionism in the German Cinema and the Influence of Max Reinhardt. University of California Press, 1969.

  5. Kracauer, Siegfried. From Caligari to Hitler: A Psychological History of the German Film. Princeton University Press, 1947.

  6. Viennale. “Der Golem, wie er in die Welt kam.” Film record and production information.
    https://www.viennale.at/en/film/golem-wie-er-die-welt-kam

  7. Eye Filmmuseum. “Der Golem: wie er in die Welt kam.” Film record and restoration information.
    https://www.eyefilm.nl/en/whats-on/der-golem-wie-er-in-die-welt-kam/265224

  8. Fenyvesi, Beáta. “‘Images of the Secret Self’: The Idea of the Non-Human in German Expressionist and Early American Horror Cinema.” AVANCA | CINEMA, 2020.
    https://doi.org/10.37390/avancacinema.2020.a108

B. Jewish Tradition, Mysticism, and the Golem Legend

  1. Barzilai, Maya. “Golem.” Oxford Bibliographies in Jewish Studies. Oxford University Press, 2019; reviewed and confirmed in 2023.
    https://doi.org/10.1093/obo/9780199840731-0179

  2. Kieval, Hillel J. “Golem Legend.” YIVO Encyclopedia of Jews in Eastern Europe.
    https://encyclopedia.yivo.org/article/165

  3. The Hebrew Bible. Psalm 139:16. Reference to the Hebrew term golmi.

  4. The Babylonian Talmud. Tractate Sanhedrin 65b. Discussions concerning the creation of an artificial being.

  5. Sefer Yetzirah. The Book of Creation. An important work of Jewish mystical tradition concerning creation, letters, and numbers.

  6. “Sacred Texts and Jewish Humanoids: Uses of Sacred Texts and Textures When Creating a Golem or Other Artificial Creatures.” Postscripts: The Journal of Sacred Texts and Contemporary Worlds, vol. 15, no. 2, pp. 91–110, 2025.
    https://doi.org/10.1558/post.32031

C. Nazi Germany, Anti-Semitism, and the Holocaust

  1. United States Holocaust Memorial Museum (USHMM). “1933: Key Dates.” Holocaust Encyclopedia.
    https://encyclopedia.ushmm.org/content/en/article/1933-key-dates

  2. United States Holocaust Memorial Museum (USHMM). “The Reichstag Fire.” Holocaust Encyclopedia.
    https://encyclopedia.ushmm.org/content/en/article/the-reichstag-fire

  3. United States Holocaust Memorial Museum (USHMM). “Prewar Nazi Germany and the Beginnings of the Holocaust.” Holocaust Encyclopedia.
    https://encyclopedia.ushmm.org/content/en/timeline-group/holocaust/1933-1938

  4. United States Holocaust Memorial Museum (USHMM). “Law, Justice, and the Holocaust.” Holocaust Encyclopedia.
    https://encyclopedia.ushmm.org/content/en/article/law-justice-and-the-holocaust

  5. Evans, Richard J. The Coming of the Third Reich. Penguin Press, 2003.

  6. Friedländer, Saul. Nazi Germany and the Jews, Volume I: The Years of Persecution, 1933–1939. HarperCollins, 1997.

  7. Friedländer, Saul. Nazi Germany and the Jews, Volume II: The Years of Extermination, 1939–1945. HarperCollins, 2007.

D. Earlier European Persecution and the Spanish Inquisition

  1. Kamen, Henry. The Spanish Inquisition: A Historical Revision. Yale University Press, 1997.

  2. Peters, Edward. Inquisition. University of California Press, 1988.

  3. Roth, Cecil. A History of the Marranos. Jewish Publication Society of America, 1932.

E. Artificial Creation, Literature, and Science Fiction

  1. Shelley, Mary. Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus. 1818.

  2. Lang, Fritz (director). Metropolis. Germany, 1927.

  3. Kubrick, Stanley (director). 2001: A Space Odyssey. United States, 1968.

  4. Russell, Stuart; Norvig, Peter. Artificial Intelligence: A Modern Approach. Pearson.


Revista & Escolas de Mistérios
Author: R.V. Garcia
rodrigoenok.blogspot.com

An independent multidisciplinary investigation dedicated to the continuous search for truth, with a commitment to distinguishing documented facts, interpretations, and hypotheses.






Comentários