But the distinction between such conditions here and the pre-war conditions in Germany is that they obtained, although in milder form, in Germany in peace times as well. And the Anglo-Saxon conception of the state is as of a thing existing for the sake of the people and with no possible interests that cannot be served by the democratic and individualistic development of its people. Between this conception and the conception held by Germany's rulers there is a wide and irreconcilable difference.
Apart, however, from any consideration of the merits of the German system, it must be admitted that the world has never seen another such intelligent application of principles of statecraft to the end sought to be attained. That the system eventually collapsed was not due to its internal faults, but to abnormal and unforeseeable events. The extent of its collapse, however, was directly due to the structure of the system itself.
It has already been pointed out that authority was the keynote of the German system. This authority, embodied in school and church, began to mold the plastic mind of the German child as early as the age of six. "The Emperor is the father of his country and loves his children like a father; we owe him the obedience due to a father," taught the school. "Submit yourselves unto authority," said the church, using Paul's words to serve the ends of the state. The child came from school and church to his military service and found authority enthroned there. He had to obey the orders of every Vorgesetzter (superior in authority) from field marshal down to corporal. He found that, in the absence of officers or non-commissioned officers, he must submit himself to the authority of the Stubenältester, the senior soldier in the same room with him. Insubordination was punished rigorously.
Precept, example and punishment were but a part of a system calculated to make discipline and submission to authority advisable and profitable. The penalties prescribed by the German penal and military codes for infractions of the laws were far less severe than the penalties prescribed in the code of any American state, but conviction was followed by a consequence of great moment in Germany: the man who was vorbestraft, that is, who had been punished for any transgression, found himself automatically excluded from any opportunity to become a Beamter, or government official.
The system of punishment had always as its chief purpose the laying of emphasis upon duty, and this was often arrived at in an indirect way. For example, the soldier who failed to keep his valuables in the locker provided for him in his barracks and who lost them by theft, was punished for his own negligence.
No other country in the world employed so large a proportion of its total population in the administration of government, and in no other country was the system so cleverly calculated to make government office attractive to the average man. The salaries were not larger than those earned by men of the same class in non-official employments, but employment under the government offered in addition both material and moral advantages. The chief material advantage was the right to retire after a specified number of years of service on liberal pension. The moral advantages rested in the dignity of government service and in the special protection afforded government servants. A carefully graded scale of titles made its appeal to personal vanity. This has frequently been described as particularly German, but it was, in the last analysis, merely human. There are comparatively few men in any country, not excluding America, who are totally indifferent to titles, and there is at least one state whose fondness for them has become a stock subject for all American humorists. What was, however, particularly German was the astuteness with which the ruling-classes of Germany had turned this human weakness to account as an asset of government, and also the extent to which it had been developed, especially downward. Mr. Smith, who cleans the streets of an American city, would not be especially gratified to be addressed as Mr. Street-Cleaner, but his German colleague felt a glow of pride at hearing the address "Herr Street-Cleaner Schmidt," and this feeling was a very real asset to his government. It was the same at the other end of the scale. The government councillor was the more faithful and energetic in his devotion to the government's work because he knew that by faithfulness and energy he would eventually become a "privy government councillor" and the next step would be to "real privy government councillor, with the predicate 'Your Excellency'." And since wives bore the titles of their husbands, the appeal was doubly strong.
The Beamter enjoyed furthermore special protection under the law. To call an ordinary person "idiot," for example, was a Beleidigung or insult, but the same term applied to a Beamter became Beamtenbeleidigung, or "insult to an official," and involved a much sharper punishment, and this punishment increased with the dignity of the person insulted until the person of the Kaiser was reached, an insult to whom was Majestätsbeleidigung, an insult to majesty, or lèse majesté, as the French term it. Prosecutions for Majestätsbeleidigung were not frequent, but the law was occasionally invoked. One of the last prosecutions for this offense occurred in 1913, when a man who had demonstratively turned a picture of the Kaiser toward the wall in the presence of a large gathering was sent to jail for four months.
Personal vanity was further exploited by a system of orders, decorations and civil-service medals. This system originated from an ancient custom which, with increasing travel, had become onerous. Royalty was everywhere expected to tip servants only with gold, and since the smallest gold coin was the equivalent of the American $2.50-piece, this constituted a severe financial tax on the poorer ruler of small principalities, who traveled much. One of these petty rulers conceived the bright idea of creating a system of bronze orders or medallions and substituting these inexpensive decorations for tips. The event justified his expectations; they were esteemed more highly than cash tips by people whose vanity was flattered at receiving a "decoration" from royalty. Eventually all states and the Empire adopted them. On fête days railway station-masters could be recognized on the streets by their numerous decorations. The railway-engineer, the mail-carrier, the janitor in a government office—all these men knew that so many years of loyal service meant recognition in the form of some sort of decoration for the coat-lapel, and these, in the stratum of society in which they moved, were just as highly regarded as was the Red Eagle or Hohenzollern House Order in higher classes of society. There is no room whatever for doubt that these things, whose actual cost was negligible, played a large part in securing faithful and devoted service to the government and compensated largely—and especially in the case of higher officials—for somewhat niggardly salaries. A prominent English statesman, visiting Berlin some years before the war, expressed to the writer his regret that England had not built up a similar system, which, in his opinion, was a powerful factor in securing a cheap and good administration of public affairs. Like the system of titles, it took advantage of a weakness not merely German, but human. Instances of the refusal of foreign orders and decorations by Americans are rare.
All these things, then, were factors of almost inestimable value in building up a strong governmental machine. At bottom, however, the whole structure rested upon another factor which should receive ungrudging admiration and recognition, regardless of one's attitude toward Germany or its governing classes. This was the strong sense of duty inculcated in every German, man or woman, from lowest to highest. Self-denial, a Spartan simplicity, faithfulness in the discharge of one's obligations—these were the characteristics that set their seal upon the average German. In some of the larger cities, and notably in Berlin, the Spartan ideals of life had been somewhat abandoned in the years preceding the war, but elsewhere they persisted, and nowhere to a greater extent than among the ruling-classes of Prussia, the so-called Junker. Former Ambassador Gerard has paid a deserved tribute to this class, [5] and the universal condemnation visited upon them by democratic peoples cannot justify a refusal to give them their due.
[ [5] "There is no leisure class among the Junkers. They are all workers, patriotic, honest and devoted to the Emperor and the Fatherland. If it is possible that government by one class is to be suffered, then the Prussian Junkers have proved themselves more fit for rule than any class in history. Their virtues are Spartan, their minds narrow but incorruptible, and their bravery and patriotism undoubted. One can but admire them and their stern, virtues." James W. Gerard, My Four Years in Germany, p. 123.