ENGELGORN

Last January, among the snowy streets of Davos, Switzerland, a woman was strolling while the world’s super-rich gathered for the annual World Economic Forum—often viewed by critics as the global Spectre ruling the world. She was met several times with expletives. The frosty reception was aimed at the one-meter-high placard she was carrying: it read “Tax the Rich.” The woman was Marlene Engelhorn, an Austrian millionaire heiress—hardly the kind of person one would expect to deliver a socialist and self-sabotaging political message.

Since 2021, Engelhorn has been calling for higher taxes on herself and her fellow 1% peers. As no one in her wealth class seemed to listen, she decided to act. The 31-year-old launched what she called the “tax I wish I had to pay.” Blaming the government for not taxing her enough, she set up an initiative in which 50 randomly selected Austrians would decide how to allocate 90% of the €25 million inheritance she received from her grandmother. Her great-great-grandfather would probably not have approved of such radical wealth redistribution: the Engelhorn family founded the German chemical giant BASF.

On July 17, 1821, a baby named Friedrich Engelhorn was born in Mannheim, a town in southern Germany. Nobody paid much attention—Europe was still reeling from the death of Napoleon two months earlier. The French emperor who had once conquered the continent, only to be defeated by the British at Waterloo, had died in exile on the island of Saint Helena. The news took weeks to reach the continent, under the shadow of post-Napoleonic restoration.

Friedrich’s early life unfolded against the backdrop of the Industrial Revolution, which was sweeping across Europe. Peasants were flocking to cities in search of factory jobs, and within two decades, another revolution—industrial and political—would be underway. Trained initially as a goldsmith, Friedrich studied abroad in elite workshops. But his destiny lay not in jewellery, but in colour.

At age 24, he founded a chemical company with a dull but descriptive name: BASF—short for Badische Anilin und Soda Fabrik—focusing on producing dyes. The factory opened in Ludwigshafen, across the Rhine River from Mannheim. Initially focused on aniline dyes, BASF quickly expanded and became a cornerstone of Germany’s emerging chemical industry.

Today, labels often read “No Artificial Colours”—but in 19th-century Germany, health and environmental concerns were non-existent. Engelhorn had a simple yet revolutionary idea: factories needed coal for their steam engines, and the coal industry generated countless by-products. From these, Friedrich created synthetic dyes—revolutionary at a time when natural dyes were still extracted from plants or stones, expensive and difficult to source.

Artificial dyes offered a cheaper, more vibrant and scalable alternative. Everything from walls to clothing could now be coloured. In 1865, BASF became the first company to employ an in-house physician. Just ten years later, Friedrich opened a plant in Butyrki, Russia—one of the first steps in European multinational expansion. Globalization had begun.

BASF’s coal-tar dye factory utilized by-products from the steel industry, enabling cheaper and more efficient production. Friedrich's commitment to research led to groundbreaking innovations like the Haber-Bosch process for synthesizing ammonia, revolutionizing agriculture by enabling large-scale fertilizer production.

Friedrich’s son, Carl, born in 1859, carried on the family legacy. Under his leadership, BASF expanded into pharmaceuticals and agrochemicals, becoming one of the world’s largest chemical companies. Carl navigated the company through turbulent times, including two world wars, by modernizing facilities and expanding internationally.

After the 1870 Battle of Sedan, Prussia—Germany’s forerunner—emerged as a European superpower. Its military dominance grew, and generals quickly saw chemistry’s potential in warfare. Carl was more than willing to support his nation’s militarization.

In 1914, when Serbian-Bosnian activist Gavrilo Princip assassinated Archduke Franz Ferdinand in Sarajevo, Europe held its breath. The killing triggered World War I. Back in Germany, the Engelhorn family toasted: war was good for business. During the conflict, BASF produced synthetic nitrates and chemical agents for warfare, aiding the Prussian war machine.

Despite this, the war was lost. The Reich collapsed, the Hohenzollern dynasty fell, and Germany emerged—impoverished and fractured. The Engelhorns, however, had profited handsomely from arms production and showed little concern for the ethical implications.

As Hitler rose during the Weimar Republic’s chaos, rearmament began anew. BASF, by then part of the IG Farben conglomerate, was instrumental in this second militarization. IG Farben also produced Zyklon B—a pesticide that became the Nazi regime’s tool for mass extermination in concentration camps.

When Allied forces bombarded Nazi Europe, BASF’s plants were heavily damaged. The company’s role in the Holocaust drew international condemnation. Yet, despite grave accusations, the family endured. Post-war Germany needed economic revival, and an unofficial amnesty allowed BASF’s rebirth. IG Farben wasn’t dismantled until 2012—nearly 80 years after the genocide. By mid-century, BASF had regained its stature as a global chemical leader.

The post-war boom only added to the Engelhorn fortune. Despite their connection to the Holocaust, the family never paid a single Deutsche Mark in reparations. Instead, they diversified into finance, real estate, and biotechnology. They enjoyed opulence and gave generously to causes in education, healthcare, and the arts.

Curt Engelhorn, Friedrich’s great-grandson, was born in 1926. Too young for WWI, and a teenager during the Holocaust, Curt studied chemistry at the University of Texas in Austin. He later became CEO of Boehringer Mannheim, a pharmaceutical firm in which he held a 40% stake. He transformed it into a pharmaceutical giant and sold it to Roche in 1997 for $10 billion, significantly growing the family fortune.

Keen to shed the past, Curt launched the Curt Engelhorn Foundation, funding science and research. But some old habits die hard.

Despite efforts to cleanse their image, the Engelhorns—now worth over $6 billion—found themselves in new scandals. In the 1990s, family members were implicated in tax evasion schemes, leading to legal battles and hefty fines. Curt himself faced accusations over €440 million in unpaid taxes. He settled with German authorities, but the episode was a stark reminder of the burden that comes with extreme wealth.

Before his death in 2016 at age 90, Curt ensured his family’s continuity. His daughters, Caroline and Veronica, embraced the family’s philanthropic tradition while maintaining a low profile. His brother Peter and another relative, Stefan, helped manage investments and charitable ventures. Leadership roles passed smoothly from one generation to the next—until Marlene decided to give it all away.

Marlene’s bold and unconventional act challenges everything the Engelhorns have historically stood for: preservation, legacy, continuity. In her eyes, wealth is not meant to be hoarded, but redistributed. Whether her family agrees or not, she is writing a very different chapter in the Engelhorn dynasty.