Anton Rupert: A Biography. Ebbe Dommisse

London, Rome and New York, keenly interested in exhibitions and window displays, always on the lookout for innovations and new developments in the industries in which he was involved. And then he could still attend concert performances at night.

      Rupert prided himself on not having missed a single day’s lessons throughout his school career. Although he was never an athlete or a sportsman, he enjoyed excellent health despite the gruelling pace of his business activities that was not conducive to a balanced lifestyle – he often described aeroplanes as ‘flying hospitals’. But, as he himself pointed out in his book Leiers oor leierskap, health and physique are not preconditions for achievement. ‘A great mind can control a weak body. Roosevelt was a cripple, Julius Caesar an epileptic, and Napoleon had ulcers. Fat or thin is also of no consequence, because Bismarck was obese, Gandhi skin and bone. And yet they all had boundless energy.’

      In 1958 Philipp Reemtsma visited South Africa and signed an agreement to market Peter Stuyvesant in Germany. ‘Peter Stuyvesant gave us the wings of Mercury and my men sold it across the world,’ says Rupert. ‘The airline labels on our briefcases not only reflected the spirit of movement, but also became the personification of our theme: “International passport to travelling pleasure”.’ On his South African visit Reemtsma also had a good look at Rembrandt’s advertising and noted the success of the ‘international passport’ slogan.

      Before the launch of the brand in Germany at the beginning of 1959, Rupert made a thorough study of the post-war market. Apart from the preference for new brands, he identified three motives that were inherent in the ‘German character’: Heimweh (nostalgia for home), Lebenschmerz (lit. ‘existential sorrow’, melancholy) and Fernweh (longing for faraway places). Whereas the Peter Stuyvesant brand, with its cosmopolitan image, would clearly not appeal to Heimweh, it played right into the hands of Fernweh. Rupert emphasises that Stuyvesant’s theme radiated ‘joy of living’, something similar to the old motto Kraft durch Freude (Power through Joy).7

      The German campaign linked the notion of pleasure with international travel. It was enthusiastically promoted by Fritz Bühler, a marketing expert from Basle appointed by Reemtsma to design a dynamic German version of the ‘international passport’ theme. He encapsulated it in the slogan ‘Der Duft der grossen weiten Welt’ (The aroma of the great wide world). It was dead right for Germany. Here was a nation hemmed in by other countries on all sides, with only a short coastline in the north. For their holidays they poured across their borders. ‘As an escape from unpleasant wartime memories and the unpleasant past, Peter Stuyvesant conveyed to young and old the idea of easily achievable affluence and hope beyond their borders,’ relates Rupert. Aeroplanes became a regular feature of Stuyvesant ads at a time when air travel was little more than a dream to impoverished Germans.

      Other factors also helped to strengthen the campaign, like the new, distinctive and youthful image of the packet. Modern media like radio, television and the cinema were used for the first time. For the first time since the war march music was used in German advertising: the Sportsmaster tune became a hit. Panel vans painted with the logo were used by sales people whose appearance matched the brand.

      The new cigarette eventually made history in the field of German brands. A long-time associate of Reemtsma, the marketing expert Hans Domizlaff, architect of Markentechnik, a focus on pre-war brands, had to admit: ‘It’s beyond my comprehension.’ Rupert explains that the older marketing experts were not enthusiastic about Peter Stuyvesant’s phenomenal growth rate – it was generally accepted that a fast-growing brand would also fade quickly. In his view, the ‘philosophy’ of the brand was such that it was planned from the first day to remain youthful and attractive to young and old. He has been told, in Germany and elsewhere, that Peter Stuyvesant confounded the expectations of many marketing experts and that the phrase ‘like Peter Stuyvesant’ often cropped up in marketing meetings. An important prerequisite for the brand’s success had been the fact that it was based on a sound marketing decision – giving the Germans something that appealed to them specifically. ‘But in the final analysis − even more important than advertising − success depends on giving value for money through constant quality control. A good product benefits from a brand and advertising; for a poor product, it can mean “sudden death”.’

      Rupert’s passion for brands and marketing techniques has benefited from his keen eye for colour and composition. Ever since his boyhood visit to his uncle Fred Knoetze’s newspaper in Somerset East he had been interested in printing and colour. He actually made a careful study of colours, their qualities and effects. According to Hans Knoetze, public relations officer of the Rembrandt Group, Rupert’s exceptional feel for colours and textiles is reflected in the great quantity of ties and the metres of material for tailor-made suits he bought to share with people as gifts. Knoetze relates that on birthdays, people would often be called in by Rupert to choose a tie from an amazing collection. ‘But you weren’t supposed to take too long to choose; with his marketing instinct, he expected you to know instantly what you liked!’8

      In 1959, a year after Peter Stuyvesant was launched in Germany, Philipp Reemtsma died. Rupert flew to Hamburg to visit him on his deathbed. He considered Reemtsma his ‘third father’, as Dr Stals had been a ‘second father’ – besides his own parents, the two older men had had a profound influence on his life and thought. At the hospital he was refused admission to the sickroom. He suspected Reemtsma’s wife Gertrud was behind it.

      During his lifetime Reemtsma had exacted three promises from his ‘adoptive son’: Rupert was to take over his business, groom his nephew Hermann Hinrich to run it, and see to it that his own young son Jan Philipp went to a Swiss boarding school. Immediately after her husband’s death Gertrud Reemtsma called a directors’ meeting from which Rupert, waiting at the door, was excluded. When summoned at last, he was told that the group would continue without him. He offered to market their brands, but that, too, was refused. Leaving, Rupert declared in that case he could do nothing more for them. One man who tried in vain to have the decision reversed was Hans Domizlaff, the marketing expert who had helped Reemtsma to develop some of the most successful German cigarette brands and who had come to know Rupert well.9

      Rupert was deeply disappointed by the decision, as an interest in Reemtsma would have made his group the second largest tobacco group in the world. He was also prevented from keeping any of his promises to his old friend.

      Gertrud Reemtsma continued with the business until Reemtsma’s surviving son, Jan Philipp, who was more interested in academia, persuaded her to sell most of the family shares to the coffee company Tchibo. The young Reemtsma, who used his fortune to finance left-wing institutions, was kidnapped in 1996 and released after 33 days for a ransom of 15 million euros.