The Lost Fruits of Waterloo

by John Spencer Bassett

But Silesia fixed a firm hold on the Prussian imagination. Long justified as an act necessary to the safety of the Fatherland, and therefore permissible, it has given sanction for the idea that wrong may be done that good shall result, if only the state is to be benefitted. It is a false doctrine, and it can do nothing but lead to wars. Nations are under the same obligations to do right as individuals.

The next phase of German history which has interest for us in connection with this study is that which lies between the years 1806 and 1813. It was a period of deep humiliation at the hands of Napoleon. The small states were huddled together in a Confederation which was, in fact, a tool of the Emperor of France, and Prussia lay like a trembling and crushed thing in his hand. No living man who hates Germany for the deeds of the present war could wish her a worse fate than Napoleon inflicted on her after the battle of Jena in 1806. He insulted the king, burdened the people with requisitions, and limited their armies. It was the acme of national shame for the nation that is now so strong.

The cause of these woes was the lack of organization, and perhaps Napoleon did the nation a service when he beat the Prussians into a realization of it. No nation is so poor that it has not reformers who see in what way its evils may be corrected. In the days that preceded the calamities of which I speak Prussia had her prophets crying to deaf men. Misfortune opened the ears of the rulers so that the prophets might be heard. Reforms were adopted out of which has grown the Germany of today. They all looked toward the unification of national energy, whatever its form; but they are expressed in three notable ways: universal military service, the correction of waste energy in civil life, and the inculcation of the spirit of obedience to authority. On these principles chiefly a new Germany was built.

We have said a great deal recently about crushing the German military system. Probably we do not know just what we mean in saying this. At least, it was not always our habit to decry the system. Many a time we have spoken with admiration of the reforms of Scharnhorst, of the glory of Leipzig and of the services of Blücher at Waterloo. If we stop to think we shall see that our real objection is the purpose for which the German military system has been used. And it seems that if it is to be broken into pieces it must be opposed with a stronger system built on a similar plan.

The next period that expresses Germany’s peculiar spirit is the era of Bismarck, 1862 to 1890. It was the time of the cult of iron. Bismarck was the “Iron Chancellor,” the nation offered its enemies “blood and iron.” Iron cannon, iron words, and iron laws became the ideals of the people. Statesmen, historians, poets, editors, professors, and all other patriots began to worship according to the rite of the new cult. And iron entered into the blood of the Germans.

To carry out Bismarck’s policy it was necessary to break down a promising liberal movement that seemed on the point of giving Prussia responsible government. It was his faith that a united Germany must hew her way into the position of great power in Europe, and in order to have a state that could do this there must be a strong central authority, able to direct all the resources of the state to the desired end. The large number of small nobles had long ago formed the celebrated Junker autocracy, a body with like ideals. He gave their restless energy a more definite political and military object, and made them take places as parts of his great state machine.

He had his reward. In 1866 he fought a decisive war against Prussia’s old enemy, Austria, and won it so quickly that even the Prussians were astonished. In 1870–1871 he threw the state against France in a war that left the land of Napoleon as completely at his feet as Prussia had been at the feet of the Corsican. And then in the moment of exultation over the victory he founded the German empire by uniting with Prussia the numerous smaller German states. There is much to support the suggestion that a similar stroke is held in reserve to create a Mittel-Europa of Germany and Austria-Hungary as a final glory of the present war, if Germany shows herself able to carry off the victory.

Bismarck’s ambition for Germany was to hold a position of arbiter in Continental affairs. He felt that this was the best way to make his country safe from hostile combinations, and it met his ideal of the dignity to which Germany ought to attain. He achieved his desire in the Three Emperors’ League and the Triple Alliance. Predominance in influence was the height of his ambition. The conquest of new lands, and the support of industry and trade by a policy of territorial expansion, were not within his plans. He was a man of an older generation to whom a predominance among the Great Powers was better than chasing the rainbow of world empire.

In 1888 died Wilhelm I, the king whom Bismarck made Emperor. He was an honest man who loved the simple and sound Germany in which he was reared. At this time the leading men of 1871 were passing from power and a group was coming on the scene who were young men in the intoxicating times of Sedan and Metz. A new emperor came to the throne, possessing great energy and the capacity of forming vast plans. He was eleven years old when the empire was proclaimed at Versailles, the age at which ordinary boys begin to wake from the dreams of childhood. From such dreams Wilhelm II passed to dreams of imperial glory. The idea of bigness of authority that he thus formed has remained with him to this day. Add the effects of an impulsive disposition and an unusual amount of confidence in himself and you will account for the peculiar gloss spread over a character that is strong and otherwise wholesome.

Early in his reign he gave ground for alarm by several acts that are hardly to be described in a less severe word than “bumptious.” He dismissed Bismarck from the Chancellorship, seemingly for no other reason than that he wished a chancellor who would be more obedient to the imperial will, and he uttered many sentiments which caused sober men to wonder what kind of emperor he was going to be. But as the years passed it was noticed that all his aberrations fell short of disaster, and as he was very energetic and devoted to efficiency in civil and military matters the world came at last to regard him with real esteem.