When There Were Only Two
When Gudrun Höhl and Elfriede Höhn were appointed in the mid-1960s to what was then the Mannheim State College of Business and Economics, they were pioneers — both at the university and in their fields. Their paths into academia, however, had been shaped by war, new beginnings, and institutional resistance.

Prague, early May 1945. The war was nearly over, and the city was in turmoil. Gudrun Höhl, then working as a research assistant at the German-run Charles University, hurriedly packed her belongings. After the German garrison surrendered, the Red Army marched into Prague, which had been under Nazi rule since the 1939 annexation. Germans were arrested or expelled. Many did not survive the reprisals. Höhl appears to have fled in the final days before the invasion. Almost everything she owned — including her scholarly work — was left behind, lost for good.
Born in 1918 near Würzburg, Höhl grew up in a middle-class family. After attending an academic secondary school in Nuremberg, she trained initially as a teacher, preparing for a career in secondary education. Following her father’s early death, she also qualified to teach at elementary level — a precaution that was not uncommon for women of her generation. Ultimately, however, she chose a different path. She began studying geography, history, and German in Göttingen before transferring in 1940 to the German University in Prague, whose administration was closely entangled with SS structures.
Höhl herself remained politically disengaged, focusing instead on her academic work. She completed her doctorate, began teaching independently, and prepared her habilitation. At the time, she could not have imagined that it would take another 17 years before she would finally hold a professorship.
Responsibility without a professorship
After escaping from Prague, Höhl had to rebuild her life from scratch — without possessions, manuscripts, or institutional ties. In November 1946 she found a position as a research assistant at the University of Bamberg. The geography institute, depleted after the war, lacked senior staff. Höhl stepped in, taking on full responsibility for teaching for many years.
Despite her heavy teaching load, she continued to struggle financially. To make ends meet, she taught additional courses at the University of Erlangen and applied for funding to finish her habilitation. The idea of a young woman teaching independently at a university, however, raised concerns. In a 1951 letter, the vice president of the Emergency Association of German Science — today’s German Research Foundation (DFG) — warned that it was “organizationally harmful for a young scholar, and a female one at that, to teach without the supervision of an experienced institute director.” He even described this as a potential “danger” to the education of future geographers in Bavaria. Fortunately for Höhl, her immediate supervisors and former doctoral advisor took a different view. When a male professor was to be appointed to take over her lectures, they successfully argued that she should remain. The appointment was canceled.
Alone among men
Höhl eventually completed her habilitation in 1959; six years later she was appointed to the Chair of Physical Geography and Regional Studies at the Mannheim College of Business and Economics. For several years she remained the only woman professor there. In 1969, she was joined by Rosmarie Günther. When Günther was appointed to a senior academic post in 1976, the School of History and Geography’s governing council finally included two women — though this did not make their positions easy.
Among students, Höhl had a reputation. “She struck us as very disciplined and strict, not especially approachable,” recalls Ilse Page-Schlichenmaier, who joined several field excursions with her. “She could be quite brisk,” Günther adds, “but also sensitive.” Her briskness was hardly surprising given the climate of the time. “Those were years when men in the faculty council would simply talk over our contributions and continue the discussion among themselves,” Günther says. “Many women probably adapted their behavior as a result.” Höhl’s authoritative presence may also have contributed to her later appointment as dean. Yet she had another side as well: she loved dancing — frequently at the president’s ball, alongside business professor Hans Raffée.
Between teaching and research
One year after Höhl’s appointment, another woman joined the school: Elfriede Höhn. Her path, too, was anything but straightforward. Born in 1915 in Freudenstadt to a farming family, she initially pursued the security of a teaching career, working for several years as an elementary school teacher after completing her training. Only in 1941 did she begin studying psychology and modern languages, first in Marburg and later in Tübingen. By 1946 she had earned both her doctorate and her qualification to teach at the secondary level.
It is unclear when Höhn first envisioned becoming a professor. Alongside her academic work, she completed a teaching traineeship and trained state-certified special-education teachers. As in Bamberg, however, Tübingen faced a shortage of politically uncompromised professors after 1945. Like Höhl before her, Höhn quickly became indispensable. For eight years she was the only full-time staff member at the psychology institute, balancing teaching, research, and administrative responsibilities.
Breakthrough after setbacks
Her path to a professorship was nevertheless marked by setbacks. Her first attempt at habilitation failed in 1954. One committee member described her as “obstinate” and doubted her suitability for academic work. More troubling still, he argued that appointing a woman to the faculty would be “the beginning of all evils.” For Höhn, this was likely the greatest setback she ever faced. Yet she persevered. Her rejected habilitation thesis was published — and ultimately drew greater attention than many other works in the field.
In 1966 she completed her habilitation, entitled The Poor Student (“Der schlechte Schüler”), a study that quickly became a standard work in educational psychology. That same year she was appointed to the Chair of Education and Educational Psychology at the Mannheim College of Business and Economics. Her influence extended far beyond her discipline: she served on the university’s founding charter assembly and senate, later became dean, and in 1976 was appointed the university’s first female vice president. She advocated for student childcare, psychological counseling services, and the university’s Guest Student and Senior Citizens Program. In 1985 she became the first woman to receive the University Medal.
Pioneers with lasting impact
Gudrun Höhl and Elfriede Höhn were ahead of their time — and for many years, largely on their own. Even after their appointments, women’s advancement at Mannheim remained the exception. It was not until 1987 that another woman, Barbara Hopf, was appointed to a chair. Their stories illustrate how much persistence and resolve it took for women to claim a place in academia at the time — and how important it was that they helped open the door for those who followed.
Text: Linda Schädler / April 2026



