The German Empire on the Road to Disaster, or Two Fateful Years
The Fall of the Paladin
In the article "On the Threshold of the First World War: Through the Reflections of Lieutenant General P.S. Makhrov"The discussion was about the process of unification of Germany and its formation as a colonial empire.
Let's continue. On the way to the First World War stories Germany had two epochal years.
The first year was 1888. It was truly tragic for the Germans, as two of their emperors passed away one after the other. First, Wilhelm I, and then, after reigning for only 99 days, Frederick III died of throat cancer. Perhaps his death was fatal for the empire, and for Europe as well.
Two points must be taken into account regarding this monarch. First, Frederick III was known as an Anglophile, apparently largely due to the influence of his wife, the British Princess Victoria.
In any case, there is reason to believe that if he had lived longer, Germany would hardly have challenged Great Britain at sea.
Likewise, through skillful diplomacy, Frederick III might have been able to avoid the rapprochement between Russia and France, which was dangerous for Germany. And this is the second point.
It was determined by the absence of militaristic inclinations in the Emperor and his desire to refrain from an aggressive policy in the international arena, at least in relation to the United Kingdom, which at that time, without exaggeration, played a leading role in the world political drama.
For example, during the reign of Frederick III it is difficult to imagine the Moroccan crises, which we will still have to talk about, as well as his approval of the expensive program of building an ocean fleet, which only provoked an arms race and Europe's slide towards world war.
Crown Prince Friedrich – the future Friedrich III – with his wife Victoria
However, the question remains: how would the Emperor have dealt with the logic of the imperialist phase of capitalist development, which demanded that Germany have access to raw materials and markets for goods, which was unthinkable without competition from Great Britain?
Another thing is that the arms race and the challenge thrown down to the British, which pushed the latter into the arms of yesterday's geopolitical rivals, did not seem like a panacea to the Germans and formed against them what Otto von Bismarck called the nightmare of coalitions.
Germany's Missed Chance
However, one cannot claim with absolute certainty that the world war was determined by the logic of history, at least in the Marxist sense. The reflections of American military historian and strategy expert E. Luttwak are interesting, though far from incontrovertible, on this subject.
Yes, the quote is very long, but I felt it necessary to offer it to the readers’ attention due to the non-trivial nature of the author’s thoughts:
By 1890, Germany had overtaken Britain in industrial innovation, thereby conquering global markets, accumulating capital and funding more and more new inventions to outpace Britain in every other sector of the economy.
In the still-preeminent steel industry, Germany's advantage grew, and in the leading chemical industry, it was simply absolute. This more or less ensured German superiority in most other forms of modern industrial production, including the nascent electrical industry (admittedly, it was in Great Britain in 1881 that the first public electricity supply system was established, but the alternating current generator was manufactured by the German company Siemens).
English entrepreneurs and managers were too poorly educated to benefit from science and technology, and in any case it was not British but German universities that advanced science and introduced most of the new forms of education.
Moreover, in British mines and factories, which were often the scene of fierce class struggle, unions fiercely resisted all new labor-saving machines and technologies—in other words, virtually any innovation. German workers were much more secure and receptive to innovation. They had just been granted the world's first old-age and disability pensions, as well as health and accident insurance.
Thus, Germany's superiority was more systemic. Both countries were constitutional monarchies, but the German executive, under its emperor, enjoyed far greater powers, which were used not only to curb parliamentary opposition but also to promote innovation on a large scale.
One result of this was a pension system that was later copied around the world; another was that a unified Germany had an efficient railway network, unlike the chaos of 120 British railway companies that filled London with unconnected stations and lines, sometimes running parallel to different stations in the same small town.
The trend towards centralisation in Germany also affected industry, favouring powerful integrated companies that were able to finance their R&D while their smaller British competitors were unable to do so.
All this meant that the British had no real hope of avoiding their relative decline compared to Germany.
German superiority in all fields was only a matter of time, while in science (and in all its branches) the British had already lost: by 1900, it was already impossible to study a wide range of subjects in British universities, from chemistry to Greek poetry, without a good knowledge of German, while English was necessary only for English literature.
In the financial field, the faster-growing generation of new capital from the more dynamic German economy prevailed over the experience and global connections of London merchant bankers and their systemic advantage in owning the pound sterling, the world's leading reserve currency.
The Warburg family of Hamburg seemed destined to overtake the Rothschilds of London, while British merchant banks had already been surpassed by the Deutsche Bank, which by 1914 had become the largest in the world and was (and still is) more competent in the financial business.
A realistic thirty-year forecast, from 1890 onwards, would see Germany overtake an increasingly decrepit Britain in every respect by 1920, as a result of realising the benefits of possessing the world's most advanced industry, the best universities, the richest banks and the most harmonious society, thanks to state-provided social security.
In the still-preeminent steel industry, Germany's advantage grew, and in the leading chemical industry, it was simply absolute. This more or less ensured German superiority in most other forms of modern industrial production, including the nascent electrical industry (admittedly, it was in Great Britain in 1881 that the first public electricity supply system was established, but the alternating current generator was manufactured by the German company Siemens).
English entrepreneurs and managers were too poorly educated to benefit from science and technology, and in any case it was not British but German universities that advanced science and introduced most of the new forms of education.
Moreover, in British mines and factories, which were often the scene of fierce class struggle, unions fiercely resisted all new labor-saving machines and technologies—in other words, virtually any innovation. German workers were much more secure and receptive to innovation. They had just been granted the world's first old-age and disability pensions, as well as health and accident insurance.
Thus, Germany's superiority was more systemic. Both countries were constitutional monarchies, but the German executive, under its emperor, enjoyed far greater powers, which were used not only to curb parliamentary opposition but also to promote innovation on a large scale.
One result of this was a pension system that was later copied around the world; another was that a unified Germany had an efficient railway network, unlike the chaos of 120 British railway companies that filled London with unconnected stations and lines, sometimes running parallel to different stations in the same small town.
The trend towards centralisation in Germany also affected industry, favouring powerful integrated companies that were able to finance their R&D while their smaller British competitors were unable to do so.
All this meant that the British had no real hope of avoiding their relative decline compared to Germany.
German superiority in all fields was only a matter of time, while in science (and in all its branches) the British had already lost: by 1900, it was already impossible to study a wide range of subjects in British universities, from chemistry to Greek poetry, without a good knowledge of German, while English was necessary only for English literature.
In the financial field, the faster-growing generation of new capital from the more dynamic German economy prevailed over the experience and global connections of London merchant bankers and their systemic advantage in owning the pound sterling, the world's leading reserve currency.
The Warburg family of Hamburg seemed destined to overtake the Rothschilds of London, while British merchant banks had already been surpassed by the Deutsche Bank, which by 1914 had become the largest in the world and was (and still is) more competent in the financial business.
A realistic thirty-year forecast, from 1890 onwards, would see Germany overtake an increasingly decrepit Britain in every respect by 1920, as a result of realising the benefits of possessing the world's most advanced industry, the best universities, the richest banks and the most harmonious society, thanks to state-provided social security.
Perhaps the Germans would have assumed a leading role in global politics and economics, becoming akin to the modern United States, if their imperial ship had been steered by Frederick III. And relations between Germany and Great Britain would have taken on the character, at least approximately, that we see today between the United States and China – fierce economic competition without a heated confrontation.
But, alas, William II ascended the throne. He was only 29 years old. While not without talent, he nonetheless possessed character traits that were difficult to reconcile with the qualities required of a monarch in a situation where a ruler was required to steer the ship of the state entrusted to him by God amidst an approaching storm.
The Future and Past of the German Empire
Good advisors would have been most welcome here. But, as contemporaries believed, Wilhelm II could not tolerate employees at his side who claimed to be anything more than mere executors of the monarch's will, as Bismarck pointed out:
The Emperor prefers to have secondary people as ministers.
Tyranny? Not in Wilhelm II's worldview. He viewed his power from a sacred perspective, as did, incidentally, his cousin Nicholas II, who considered himself "an instrument in the hands of the Almighty."
In a sense, he saw politics as a kind of sacred rite. This is no exaggeration, but an echo of heated debates in European philosophical, theological, and political circles: was the monarch a simple layman or a sword-girt cleric?
For example, when ascending the French throne in 1825, Charles X, for the last time in the history of the country, resorted to the traditional Bourbon rite of laying on hands on scrofulous patients, that is, in his worldview, he performed a sacred act, fulfilling the functions of a cleric, which was discussed in the article “Charles X: A Forgotten Rite or the End of the Long Middle Ages».
Wilhelm II didn't heal the sick, but, I repeat, he saw a sacred element in his royal service. However, mysticism is mysticism, and prose is prose—of life, I mean. And in this case, in the relationship between the young emperor and the very elderly chancellor, as they say, a sharp edge met a sharp edge. Bismarck, after all, also had difficulty tolerating the opinions of others and, on occasion, was ready to threaten the monarch with his resignation, likely viewing it as a form of blackmail.
It was the "Iron Chancellor" who introduced Wilhelm II, while he was still heir apparent, into the world of diplomacy. In 1886, he received the emperor's permission to introduce his grandson to state affairs by familiarizing him with Foreign Ministry documents. He entrusted the task of immersing him in the affairs of the Foreign Ministry to his son, Herbert, who headed the German Foreign Ministry from 1888 to 1890.
It is noteworthy that Crown Prince Friedrich was displeased with this; he believed it was necessary to begin his son's introduction to public administration not by immersing him in the intricacies of diplomacy, but by familiarizing him with the way things were done in his own country.
There was another reason that made Friedrich skeptical about the chancellor’s initiative: in one of his letters to him, he drew attention to his son’s tendency “towards too hasty and rash judgments, as well as towards conceit and exaggeration.”
Bismarck himself noted the heir's lack of inclination toward diligent work, which was likely a disadvantage, given his desire to see only executors of the monarch's will at his side in the future. For a lack of perseverance is synonymous with a superficial familiarity with matters of state importance and, as a consequence, hasty and ill-considered decisions, especially those that were mandatory to implement.
And what about Wilhelm II? He, in fact, prioritized foreign policy over domestic affairs in his public life and considered diplomacy his specialty, as he openly stated:
I make German policy myself, and my country must follow me wherever I go.
Wilhelm I
A rather straightforward—I would even say military-style—position. In this regard, one can only regret that the "Iron Chancellor" was never able to convince Wilhelm I to remove his son from the military and fully integrate him into civilian affairs.
In the end, Wilhelm II, in Bismarck's words, "came to the throne with views alien to our Prussian concepts and our state life."
But how did the last German monarch himself regard his mentor? With almost mystical admiration: "Bismarck was an idol in my temple, to whom I prayed," and he called him his grandfather's paladin.
German Akela missed
However, despite all the adoration from the young emperor, by 1888 it was becoming clear that the era of the unifier of Germany was drawing to an end, as his political intuition began to fail him and his calculations began to falter. Moreover, the Chancellor, born in the year of Waterloo, was already of a respectable age.
A year before his resignation, Bismarck suffered a setback in foreign policy, where he usually excelled. In 1889, British Foreign Secretary Richard Salisbury rejected his proposal for a military alliance against France. London continued to pursue a course of splendid isolation.
Didn't Bismarck know this? He did. His calculations likely hinged on the geopolitical rivalry between two colonial empires, primarily in West Africa and specifically in the strategically and economically important Niger basin. France's position there appeared preferable to Britain's, which worried London. Consequently, Britain benefited from a weakened France, or at least a reduction in its activity on the Black Continent.
An alliance between Berlin and London could well have facilitated this. However, Bismarck, presumably, failed to take into account that Great Britain was not happy with the weakening of the French Empire by strengthening the German Empire, including in Africa, where, in turn, rivalry between the British and Germans was already looming.
Accordingly, London had reason to fear that, having pushed the French out of the Niger Basin with German help, the Germans' next move would not be to push the British out of the disputed regions of Africa. Did London have reason for such concerns? Hypothetically, yes.
However, Bismarck was prepared to sacrifice the interests of the Reich in Africa, since he expressed a desire to join the Triple Alliance of Great Britain, which he had already formed, in order to weaken the emerging Franco-Russian alliance.
Accordingly, Germany was ready to make concessions, as evidenced by the Heligoland Pact, signed, however, after Bismarck’s resignation, in July 1890, which settled the contradictions between the two powers in East Africa in favor of Great Britain: its possessions in this part of the continent were expanded.
But this kind of concession didn't play into Berlin's hands. In this case, Salisbury's personal qualities must be taken into account. While Bismarck was sometimes impulsive, Salisbury, according to historians, was lazy and even slow. His foreign policy strategy was based on the formula: "Watch and wait."
And he followed the course paved by his predecessors and had no intention of opening the English political embrace to the Germans.
Perhaps Bismarck overestimated the extent of the conflict between London and Paris, as well as between London and St. Petersburg, within the Great Game in Central Asia. In the previous article, we discussed how the creation of the German Empire, which, in addition to needing a market for its goods, raw materials, and cheap labor, upset the balance of power in Europe established by the Peace of Westphalia in 1648.
This pushed geopolitical rivals toward a rapprochement on anti-German grounds. It wasn't so much politics as geography—between Russia and France—that drove this. In turn, the geographic factor tempted the German General Staff to forcibly cut the geographic noose around Germany's neck, pardon the tautology, by launching a preemptive war against the Russians.
A similar initiative was put forward by the successor of Field Marshal G. von Moltke the Elder, who retired two years before Bismarck, Lieutenant General A. von Waldersee.
Bismarck, eager to avoid war with Russia and the formation of coalitions against Germany, was naturally opposed. However, Wilhelm II also did not support the Chief of the General Staff's initiative.
However, Bismarck's days in power, which had previously been largely undivided, were numbered and, more importantly, the course he had pursued was coming to an end.
Shadow of War
In 1890, Wilhelm II dismissed Bismarck. Herbert followed his father, albeit on his own initiative. It's unlikely he would have lasted long at the helm of the Foreign Ministry: he suffered from alcoholism, which ultimately led to his death in 1904.
Herbert Bismarck with his father
That's one thing. On the other hand, with the Chancellor's resignation, Herbert's foreign policy, which had been in sync with his father's strategy, was also curtailed, as Wilhelm II wrote in his memoirs:
Foreign policy was directed and dictated exclusively by the prince in agreement with Count Herbert, who passed on the chancellor's orders and converted them into instructions.
It is not surprising that, already out of office, Herbert criticized his successor as head of the German Foreign Ministry, L. von Caprivi, whose steps on the international stage will be discussed in the next article.
To be fair, the reasons for the end of the “Iron Chancellor’s” career were also due to the divergence of his views with Wilhelm II in the area of domestic policy, but this topic is beyond the scope of the story.
Accordingly, 1890 became the second, along with the death of two emperors, epochal year in the history of Germany, also associated with the death, only political, of the great chancellor.
An important detail: Bismarck resigned when negotiations began between him and Count P.A. Shuvalov on the renewal of the reinsurance treaty of 1887. Yes, it was not of an allied nature, but it kept Russia from sliding into the arms of France.
Incidentally, the relationship between these two diplomatic heavyweights is a rare case in politics, where both statesmen had camaraderie with each other, as evidenced by the letters from the former chancellor to the count.
Caprivi did not renew the reinsurance agreement. Bismarck lived for another eight years and could only watch in horror as his nightmare of coalitions gradually became reality. The year the chancellor died, Germany openly challenged Great Britain by adopting a program to build a blue-water navy.
This pushed the latter toward rapprochement with France and, consequently, with Russia, with which the Third Republic had already established an alliance. The shadow of a two-front war loomed ever larger over Germany. Did Wilhelm II notice? More on that later.
Использованная литература:
Bismarck, O. Thoughts and Memories, Vol. 3. - OGIZ - Gospolitizdat, 1941
Wilhelm II. Memoirs. Events and People. 1878-1918 / Translated by D. Trius. — Moscow-P.: L. D. Frenkel Publishing House, 1923
Luttwak, E.N. China's Rise in Defiance of Strategic Logic / Translated from English by N.N. Platoshkina. Moscow: Russian Foundation for Assistance to Education and Science, 2016
Medvedik I.S. Britain and France in the struggle for West Africa (80s)
Medvedik I.S. Britain and Germany in the scramble for West Africa in the late 19th century
Pertsev V. N. Gorenzollerns: Personality Characteristics and Review
political activity / V. N. Pertsev. - Minsk: Harvest, 2003
Podolnikov V.P. Wilhelm II and German Foreign Policy in the Late 19th Century
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