William of Germany

by Stanley Shaw

The "November Storm" was a collision between the Emperor and his folk, a result of his so-called "personal regiment."

In a general way the latter phrase is intended to describe and characterize the method of rule adopted by the Emperor from the very beginning of his reign, especially as exhibited in his semi-official utterances, public and private, in his correspondence, private conversation, and public and private conduct generally. According to the popular interpretation of the Imperial Constitution—the nearest thing to a Magna Charta in Germany—the Emperor should observe, in his words and acts, a reserve which would prevent all chance of creating dissension among the federated States and in particular would secure the avoidance of anything which might disturb Germany's relations to foreign countries or interfere with the course of Germany's foreign policy as carried on through the regular official channel, the Foreign Office. The ground for this popular interpretation is a constitutional device which to an Englishman, if it be not offensive to say so, can only recall the well-known definition of a metaphysician as "a blind man, in a dark room, looking for a black cat, which is not there."

The device is known as the Chancellor's "responsibility," which was regarded, and is still regarded in Germany, as at once "covering" the Emperor and offering to his folk a safeguard against unwisdom or caprice on his part. The nature of this responsibility which is evidenced by the Chancellor signing the Emperor's edicts and other official statements, is so frequently discussed by German politicians, the position of the Chancellor—the Grand Vizier of Germany he has been picturesquely called—is so influential, and the intercourse between the Emperor and the Chancellor is so close, exclusive, and confidential, that an examination of the meaning of the term "responsibility" in this connexion is desirable.

Whenever the Emperor does anything important or surprising, especially in foreign policy, the first question asked by his subjects is, has he taken the step with the knowledge, and therefore with the joint responsibility, of the Chancellor? If the answer is in the negative, it is the "personal regiment" again, and people are angry: if the latter, they may disapprove of the step and grumble at it, but it is covered by the Chancellor's signature and they can raise no constitutional objection. Hence the demand usually made on such occasions for an Act of Parliament once for all defining fully and clearly the Chancellor's responsibilities. According to Prince von Bülow, and it is doubtless the Emperor's own view, the responsibility mentioned in the Constitution is a "moral responsibility," and only refers to such acts and orders of the Emperor as immediately arise out of the governing rights vested in him, not to personal expressions of opinion, even though these may be made on formal occasions; and the Prince goes on to say that if a Chancellor cannot prevent what he honestly thinks would permanently and in an important respect be injurious to the Empire, he is bound to resign.

The Chancellor, then, takes responsibility of some kind. But responsibility to whom? To the Emperor? To the Parliament? To the people? The answer is, solely to the Emperor, for it is the Emperor who appoints and dismisses him as well as every other Minister, imperial or Prussian, and the Emperor is only responsible to his conscience. In parliamentarily ruled countries like England Ministers are responsible to Parliament, which expresses its disapproval by the vote of a hostile majority, or in certain circumstances by a vote of censure or even impeachment. In Germany, where the parliamentary system of government does not exist, and where there is no upsetting Ministries by a hostile majority, and no parliamentary vote of censure or impeachment, no Minister, including the Chancellor, is responsible, in the English sense of the word, to Parliament; accordingly, a German Chancellor may continue in office in spite of Parliament, provided of course the Emperor supports him. At the same time the Chancellor to-day is to some indefinable extent responsible to Parliament, and therefore to the people, in so far as they are represented by it, for he must keep on tolerable terms with Parliament as well as with the Emperor, or he will have to give up office. How he is to keep on terms with a Parliament consisting of half a dozen powerful parties and as many more smaller fractions and factions is probably the part of his duties that gives him most trouble and at times, doubtless, very disagreeably interferes with the placidity of his slumbers.

There is no struggle for government in Germany between the Crown and the people: Germans have no ancient Magna Charta, no Habeas Corpus, no Declaration of Rights to look back to on the long road to liberty. In the protracted struggle for government between the English people and their rulers, the people's victory took the form of parliamentary control while retaining the monarch as their highest and most honoured representative. Socially he is their master, politically their servant, the "first servant of the State." In Germany there has never, save for a few months in 1848, been any struggle of a similar political extent or kind. German monarchs including the Emperor, have applied the expression "first servant of the State" to themselves, but they did not apply it in the English sense. They applied it more accurately. In Germany the State means the system, the mechanism of government, inclusive of the monarch's office: in England the word "State" is more nearly equivalent to the word "people." To serve the system, the government machinery, is the first duty of the monarch, and government is not a changing reflection of the people's will, but a permanent apparatus for maintaining the power of the Crown, harmonizing and reconciling the sentiments and interests of all parts of the Empire, and for conducting foreign policy.

It may be objected that legislation is made by the Reichstag, that the Reichstag has the power of the purse, and that it is elected by universal suffrage; but in Germany the Government is above and independent of the Reichstag; legislation is not made by the Reichstag alone, since it requires the agreement of the Federal Council and of the Emperor, and—what is of great practical importance—Government issues directions as to how legislation shall be carried into effect. The law of 1872 passed against the Jesuits forbade the "activity" of the Order, but the interpretation of the word "activity," and with it the effects of the law, were left to the Government.

Kings of Prussia and German Emperors have never shown much affection for their Parliaments: Parliaments are apt to act as a check upon monarchy, and in Prussia in particular to interfere with the carrying out of the divinely imposed mission. This is not said sarcastically; and the Emperor, like some of his ancestors, has more than once expressed the same thought. Parliaments in Germany only date from after the French Revolution. After that event there came into existence in Germany the Frankfurt Parliament (1848), the Erfurt Parliament (1850), and the Parliament of the German Customs Union (1867). These, however, were not popularly elected Parliaments like those of the present day, but gatherings of class delegates from the various Kingdoms and States composing the Germany and Austria of the time. Since the Middle Ages there had always been quasi-popular assemblies in Prussia, but they too were not elected, and only represented classes, not constituencies. The present Parliaments in Prussia and the Empire are Constitutional Parliaments in the English sense, elected by universal suffrage, the one indirectly, the other directly.

The present Prussian Diet dates from the "First Unified Diet," summoned by Frederick William IV in 1847, which was transformed next year under pressure of the revolutionists into a "national assembly." This was treated a year after by General Wrangel almost exactly as Cromwell treated the Rump. The General entered Berlin with the troops which a few weeks before had fought against the revolutionists of the "March days." He passed along the Linden to the royal theatre, where the "national assembly" was in session, and was met at the door by the leader of the citizens' guard with the proud words, "The guard is resolved to protect the honour of the National Assembly and the freedom of the people, and will only yield to force."

Wrangel took out his watch—one can imagine the old silver "turnip"—and with his thumb on the dial replied: