This passage of Op. 111 is a particularly rollicking (and "modern") example of syncopated texture for its time period, but composers have been using it since at least the Middle Ages.

There are lots of examples to be found in late Medieval traditions such as the primarly French ars subtilior and the Italian Trecento (both flourishing ca. 1370-1420). The composers of the late Renaissance and early Baroque experimented with it quite a bit, as well, especially Giovanni Gabrieli and Carlo Gesualdo. You don't see a ton of it in the high Baroque, and when you do, it's often just a short little gesture over a few beats (e.g., the first two beats of the second bar of the Hornpipe from Handel's Water Music). Bach uses it as a general unifying feature in parts of the 4th Brandenburg, as well as hiding a bit of it underneath dotted eighth-sixteenth patterns in the countersubject of Contrapunctus II from The Art of the Fugue. There's a super jazzy little one-bar breakdown at the climax of one of the other AotF fugues, too, but I can't remember off the top of my head which one it is right now (#6, maybe? EDIT: It's actually in m. 22 of the above-linked Contrapunctus II, at around 0:45 of the video. I thought it was closer to the end.).

By the time the high Classical and early Romantic composers roll around, syncopation is pretty common, mostly in accompanimental or dramatic figures. Beethoven uses it in the violins to accent the foreign C#° chord in the main theme of the first movement of the Eroica (m. 7), and very prominently later on in the movement to set up the closing theme just before the exposition repeat (mm. 123-131).

Anyways, I have a meeting right now, but I may come back and expand this a bit later today.

EDIT: Not much more to add, now that I reread. To quickly conclude, the Op. 111 passage you're asking about, like a lot of stuff in Beethoven's late sonatas and quartets, would have certainly been pretty remarkable to listeners in 1822, but the basic technical aspects of it were long in common use.