A Brief and Personal History of Mennonites and Trauma

A Mennonite: My Cultural Background

When I was young, I was largely unable to distinguish between Mennonite-specific cultural details, small town life, general Christianity, and the dominant 90s culture. I was told seemingly anecdotal stories of Christians being horrifically oppressed, but didn’t understand how those tales applied to me. I knew some of the foods we ate were culturally specific, and our Christian traditions were somehow more valid than those of outsider Christians. I knew my relatives on both sides immigrated to Canada from Paraguay, but I wasn’t sure where they had come from before then. My top guesses were Russian or German ancestry, but I had no real idea.

Greeting card seen at
Mennonite Heritage Village Museum

My first discovery into the true origins of my ancestors came with the completion of a DNA ancestry kit. I was genuinely surprised to learn my genetic make-up is as equally matched to Dutch as it is to German, with Belgian and Scandinavian in smaller amounts. More recently, I gained access to my full genealogical background (as much as is possible) and discovered these estimates to be consistent with the historical record. My earliest recorded ancestor, Francis Thijssen, was born 1545 in Belgium. His son married and had children in the Netherlands, while his grandson married and had children in Sweden. By the late 1600s, when Francis’ grandson had grandchildren and church recordkeeping was established, most of my ancestors were settled in and around Danzig, Poland.

In recent years I have experienced a surge of interest around my heritage, culture, and our history. I grew up being encouraged to learn, but only about that which was "approved and permitted". Resources had to be sourced through or heavily vetted by community leadership, including heads of family. Learning about Mennonite history independently, through my own perspective, has felt a bit taboo in and of itself. This is one reason it has taken me so long to discover my interest in this area.

Mennonite Beginnings: The Reformation

Mennonites haven’t always existed. We are a small sect of Christians who isolated in order to preserve our faith and, at times, our actual lives, over generations forming a unique cultural group. Our origin lies within the Reformation of the 1500’s, and specifically within the formation of Anabaptist beliefs. The name Mennonite refers to Menno Simons, the man who established the first Mennonite church in Danzig, Poland. But he is only one of many critically influential figures in the development of Mennonite theological tenets. Mennonites technically remain under the Anabaptist umbrella, alongside the Amish and the Hutterites.

Through the Reformation the Roman Catholic Church, along with its enforcers including other Protestant groups, hunted down “heretics” which included all varieties of Anabaptists. Trials would be held wherein the guilty party was to denounce their personal beliefs and commit to the ideology and theology of the Roman Catholic Church. When they did not, these people would be executed. The true stories of Anabaptist martyrs were likely the basis for the stories of Christian oppression told to me when I was a child. As a Mennonite who has adopted Pagan practices as an adult, it is historically relevant to me that at the time it would have been just as dangerous to be assumed a witch as a Mennonite; The Catholic Church wanted both extinguished.

Statue of Dirk Willems
and his captor at MHV

It was also very interesting for me to learn the history of Mennonites adopting non-violence, alongside other foundational beliefs and behaviors. Through the Reformation, a variety of Anabaptist groups developed, and they didn’t all agree on how to handle their experience of oppression. Some of these groups chose violence and these demonstrations of violence ended in their slaughter. When news of these tragic events spread, Menno Simons and those who agreed with his message of peace adopted an attitude of non-violence. Secrecy and loyalty were organically adopted for collective survival, and martyrs for the cause were used as proof of the groups' superior faith.

Etching of Dirk Willems
and his captor

Arguably the most well-known Anabaptist martyr, and whose etching is often depicted as the cover of the book Martyr’s Mirror, is Dirk Willems. He escaped from prison, and when his pursuer fell through thin ice he stopped to save the man’s life. Dirk was then recaptured and executed. His story and its popularity among Mennonites illustrate the high expectation of non-violence encouraged by Mennonite beliefs.

Mennonites in Danzig: How Dutch Became Russian

Dutch Mennonites began settling in Danzig, Poland in the 1500s to avoid the religious persecution they faced elsewhere in Europe. While tolerant of their beliefs, the city council made life difficult for Mennonites through limiting their economic opportunities. Mennonites were allowed exemption from military service, but only after agreeing to pay a special tax instead. At times, xenophobic rumors were spread and even literature distributed claiming Mennonites to be harmful to the wider community. Through these hardships, and in an effort to preserve their spiritual and cultural heritage, many Mennonites maintained largely closed social communities despite participating in the wider economy in Danzig. For over 200 years, this is where the vast majority of Mennonites in my lineage lived and died. Yet I had never heard of the area until I did my own research.

In the late 1700s, a majority of these Mennonites immigrated to an area along the Dnieper River (Ukraine), at the time occupied by Russia. This group would go on to call themselves “Russian Mennonites” and this would be the basis for my own and many others’ misunderstandings regarding Mennonite origins. The move to Russian-occupied territory was a strategic move to continue preserving the integrity of Mennonite culture and values, but it was also a strategic move on Russia’s part, to secure their newly claimed territory. This collaboration is one those of Russian Mennonite ancestry would go on to repeat with other governments. In our desire to preserve and protect ourselves, we have been shown to be willing pawns to powerful colonizers and warmongers.

Mennonites in Flight: Our Shared Trauma

This willingness to flee to the highest bidder, or the lesser abuser, is repeated throughout the history of my Mennonite ancestors. We ask only those questions which pertain to us, we take what we can get, and if we can’t have what we want, we leave. As a student of all things trauma-related, I have learned how our trauma or stress responses can become encoded in our DNA, and how this reflects on the generations thereafter. While I in no way excuse any harms caused by these individuals or groups, I can understand how this behavior became a pattern. I can understand how, after being hunted and killed for their version of Christianity, after being mocked and relegated to corners of society, after struggling to scrape together a good life for their families, Mennonites learned it was safer to run and hide inside of themselves.

Reasons Mennonites chose Manitoba

The next time we ran was to Canada, again being used by a government as human placeholders, to occupy the land stolen from its indigenous peoples. My 2^nd, 3^rd, 4^th, and 5^th Great Grandparents arrived to Canada over ten voyages from 1874 through 1877. After arriving to Quebec City, they had another long voyage to endure before arriving in Manitoba. Through the records, it is clear some did not survive the trip, or died in the winter months following. The guidance of the Metis was a critical resource from the moment Mennonites arrived, and surely more would have perished without their help. But after not too long, my ancestors felt threatened and fled again, this time to Paraguay, and were again used to colonize land claimed by occupying forces in South America.

Mennonites Today: What Can We Do With This Information?

While some of my relatives who told me stories and histories of Mennonites during my childhood did so with genuine knowledge behind them, the scattered and disjointed information I ingested overall resulted in a lack of understanding. The reality is Russian Mennonites are not Russian, Paraguayan Mennonites are not Paraguayan, and Manitoban Mennonites settled before Paraguayan Mennonites. These are all facts I could not put together before learning about Mennonite immigration patterns and Mennonite history in Europe. [It is worth noting much of this history and more about Mennonite culture can be easily accessed if one is able to visit the Mennonite Heritage Village Museum in Steinbach.]

From my perspective, understanding this history is incredibly important and useful. As I mentioned previously, our trauma patterns encode themselves into our offspring, giving them a head start if they are to face the same threats we have. Spanning a dozen generations, Mennonites in my lineage have frequently reacted to various threats by either closing their doors or packing up and leaving. Inside Mennonite communities, the practice of shunning those who refuse to conform or adhere to religious law has been common; this is another form of avoidance, or flight response. Even when not actively shunning, ignoring challenging topics, complex issues, or unusual people is yet another version of flight response I have observed in Mennonite communities. As a Mennonite whose flight response is particularly active, I am not criticizing my fellow Mennos for this trait. But I do believe developing a stronger sense of awareness around our flight response, and how it may be impacting those around us, is a helpful way to move forward collectively.

I’ll admit, I have felt hurt by Mennonites in my family and in my community due to behavior of this kind. I have felt the sting of passive shunning. I have felt the pain of extending my heart to those I love and receiving a cold shoulder. Understanding our shared history helps me understand these behaviors better, though it doesn’t heal the wounds created. I also now understand why I too turned to shunning, “Going no contact” as it is more commonly called these days, and perhaps why it felt so easy to do so. This is our familial and community pattern, and it takes awareness to deviate from a pattern.

Now, when I feel the flight response rising up in my body, I ask myself…

• What am I running from or avoiding?
• Is running or avoiding going to improve the situation?
• Is running or avoiding going to cause someone I love to hurt?
• Would running or avoiding actually keep me from experiencing pain, or simply prolong inevitable pain?
• Does the act of running or avoiding honor my spiritual values and goals?
• Would I be causing more harm than I am preventing through this act of running or avoidance, or would I be supporting someone else in their harmful actions?

When I look back at Mennonite history, I see a people fighting for their culture and heritage through a multitude of challenges. But I also see a people willing to harm other communities, and sometimes each other, as long as we can get a leg up. This isn’t a part of our history I’m proud of, and it is not a pattern I want to repeat as a Mennonite individual or Mennonite community. I am hopeful increased awareness can help each of us do better when we feel the need to run or hide, and that through understanding our history we will become more capable of building a better future.