Metz, moreover, is a place of such a topographical configuration, that very little art is needed to transform it into a strong fortress. If anyone should destroy these additions to nature—which would be a very expensive undertaking—they could be quickly restored. Consequently I looked also upon this suggestion as insufficient.

There might have been one other means—and one which the inhabitants of Alsace and Lorraine favored—of founding there a neutral territory similar to Belgium and Switzerland. There would then have been a chain of neutral states from the North Sea to the Swiss Alps, which would have made it impossible for us to attack France by land, because we are accustomed to respect treaties and neutrality, and because we should have been separated from France by this strip of land between us. France would have received a protecting armor against us, but nothing would have prevented her from occasionally sending her fleet with troops to our coast—a plan she had under consideration during the last war, although she did not execute it—or from landing her armies with her allies, and entering Germany from there. France would have received a protecting armor against us, but we should have been without protection by sea, as long as our navy did not equal the French. This was one objection, although one of only secondary importance. The chief reason was that neutrality can only be maintained when the inhabitants are determined to preserve an independent and neutral position, and to defend it by force of arms, if need be. That is what both Belgium and Switzerland have done. As far as we were concerned in the last war no action on their part would have been necessary, but it is a fact that both these countries maintained their neutrality. Both are determined to remain neutral commonwealths. This supposition would not have been true, in the immediate future, for the neutrality newly to be established in Alsace and Lorraine. On the contrary, it is to be expected that the strong French elements, which are going to survive in the country for a long while, and whose interests, sympathies, and memories are connected with France, would have induced the people to unite with France in the case of another Franco-German war, no matter who their sovereign might be. The neutrality of Alsace-Lorraine, therefore, would have been merely a sham, harmful to us and helpful to France. Nothing was left, therefore, but to bring both these countries with their strong fortresses completely under German control. It was our purpose to establish them as a powerful glacis in Germany's defence against France, and to move the starting point of a possible French attack several days' marches farther back, if France, having regained her strength or won allies, should again throw down the gauntlet to us.

The chief obstacle to the realization of this idea, which was to satisfy the incontestable demands of our safety, was found in the opposition of the inhabitants themselves, who did not wish to be separated from France. It is not my duty here to inquire into the causes which made it possible for a thoroughly German community to become so deeply attached to a country speaking a different tongue and possessing a government which was not always kind and considerate. To a great extent this may have been due to the fact that all those qualities which distinguish the Germans from the French are found to such a high degree in Alsace-Lorraine, that the inhabitants of this country formed—I may say it without fear of seeming presumption—an aristocracy in France as regards proficiency and exactness. They were better qualified for service, and more reliable in office. The substitutes in the army, the gendarmes, and the civil officers were from Alsace-Lorraine in numbers entirely out of proportion to the population of these provinces. There were one and one half million Germans who knew how to make use of these virtues among a people who have other virtues but who are lacking in these particular ones. Thanks to their excellence they enjoyed a favored position, which made them unmindful of many legal iniquities. It is, moreover, characteristic of the Germans that every tribe lays claim to some kind of superiority, especially over its immediate neighbors. As long as the people of Alsace and Lorraine were French, Paris with its splendor and the grandeur of a united France stood behind them; they could meet their fellow Germans with the consciousness that Paris was theirs, and thus find a reason for their sense of exclusive superiority. I do not wish to discuss further the reasons why everyone attaches himself more readily to a big political system which gives scope to his abilities, than to a divided, albeit related, nation, such as existed formerly on this side of the Rhine, in so far as the Alsatians were concerned. The fact is that such disinclination existed, and that it is our duty to overcome it by patience. We have, it seems to me, many means at our disposal. We Germans are accustomed to govern more benevolently, sometimes more awkwardly—but in the long tun really more benevolently and humanely, than the French statesmen. This is a merit of the German character which will soon appeal to the Alsatian heart and become manifest. We are, moreover, able to grant the inhabitants a far greater degree of communal and individual freedom than the French institutions and traditions ever permitted.

If we watch the present movement in Paris (the Commune), we shall find, what is true of every movement possessing the least endurance, that it contains at bottom a grain of sense in spite of all the unreasonable motives which attach to it, influencing its individual partisans. Without this no movement can attain even that degree of force which the Commune exercises at present. This grain of sense—I do not know how many people believe in it, but surely the most intelligent and best who at present are fighting against their countrymen do believe in it—is, to put it briefly, the German municipal government. If the Commune possessed this, then the better element of its supporters—I do not say all—would be satisfied. We must differentiate according to the facts. The militia of the usurpers consists largely of people who have nothing to lose. There are in a city of two million inhabitants many so-called "repris de justice," or as we should say "people under police supervision," who are spending in Paris the interval between two terms in prison. They are congregating in the city in considerable numbers and are ready to serve disorder and pillage wherever it may be. It is these people who gave to the movement, before we had scrutinized its theoretical aims, the occasionally prominent character which seemed to threaten civilization, and which, in the interest of humanity, I now hope has been overcome. It is, of course, quite possible that it may recur.

In addition to this flotsam, which is found in large masses in every big city, the militia which I mentioned consists of many adherents of an international European republic. I have been told the figures with which the foreign nations are there represented, but I remember only that almost eight thousand Englishmen are said to be in Paris for the sake of seeing the realization of their plans. I assume that these so-called Englishmen are largely Irish Fenians. And then there are many Belgians, Poles, adherents of Garibaldi, and Italians. They are people who really do not care much for the "Commune" and French liberty. They expect something else, and they were, of course, not meant, when I said that there is a grain of sense in every movement.

The needs and wishes of the large French communities are thoroughly justified, considering not only their own political past, which grants them a very moderate amount of freedom, but also the tradition of the French statesmen who are offering to the cities their very best possible compromise with municipal freedom. The inhabitants of Alsace and Lorraine have felt these needs most forcefully owing to their German character, which is stronger than the French character in its demands for individual and municipal independence. Personally I am convinced that we can grant the people of Alsace and Lorraine, at the very start, a freer scope in self government without endangering the empire as a whole. Gradually this will be broadened until it approaches the ideal, when every individual and every community possesses as much freedom as is at all compatible with the order of the State as a whole. I consider it the duty of reasonable statesmanship to try to reach this goal or to come as near to it as possible. And this is much easier, with our present German institutions, than it will ever be in France with the French character and the French centralized system of government. I believe, therefore, that, with German patience and benevolence, we shall succeed in winning the men of Alsace and Lorraine—perhaps in a briefer space of time than people today expect.

But there will always be some residuary elements, rooted with every personal memory in France and too old to be transplanted, or necessarily connected with France by material interests. For them there will be no compensation for the broken French bonds, or at least none for some time to come. We must, therefore, not permit ourselves to believe that the goal is in sight, and that Alsace will soon be as intensely German in feeling as Thuringia. On the other hand, we need not give up the hope of living to see the realization of our plans provided we fulfill the time generally allotted to man.

The problem of how to approach this task, gentlemen, will now primarily concern you. What should be the form of our immediate procedure? for it should surely not bind us irrevocably for all the future. I would ask you not to deliberate as if you were to create something that will hold good for eternity. Do not endeavor to form a definite idea of the future as you may think it should be after the lapse of several decades. No man's foresight, I hold, can reach as far as that. The conditions are abnormal; they had to be so—our entire task was so—not only as regards the mode of taking possession of Alsace, but also as regards the present owners. An alliance of sovereign princes and free cities making a conquest which it is compelled to keep for its own protection, and which is, therefore, held in joint possession, is very rare in history. It is in fact, I believe, unique, if we disregard a few ventures by some Swiss cantons, which after all did not intend to assimilate the countries which they had jointly conquered, but rather to manage them as common provinces in the interest of the conquerors. Considering, therefore, the abnormal conditions and our abnormal task, we are most especially called upon to guard against overestimating the perspicacity in human affairs of even the most far sighted politicians. I for one do not feel capable of foretelling with certainty what the conditions in Alsace-Lorraine will be three years hence. To do this one would need an eye capable of piercing the future. Everything depends on factors whose development, conduct, and good will are beyond our power of regulation. What we are proposing to you is merely an attempt to find the right beginning of a road, the end of which we shall know only when we have been taught the necessary lessons by actual experience with the conditions of the future. Let me ask you, therefore, to follow at first the same empirical road which the governments have followed, and to take conditions as they are, and not as we may wish they should be. If one has nothing better to put in the place of something that one does not entirely like, one had better, I believe, let matters take their own course, and rest satisfied at first with conditions as they are. As a matter of fact the allied governments have jointly taken these countries, while their common possession and common administration, although constituting an established premise, may be modified in future by our own necessities and the needs of the people of Alsace and Lorraine. As regards the definite form which the proposition may take some day, I sincerely urge you to follow the lead of the governments and to defer your judgment. If you are bolder than we are in prejudging what will happen, we shall gladly meet your wishes, since we must work together. The caution with which I have announced to you the convictions of the allied governments, and with which these governments have formed their convictions, is an indication to you of our willingness to be set right, if you should offer us a better plan, especially if experience—even a short experience—should have proved it to be a better plan.

When I announce to you our willingness to work hand in hand with you, you are, I am sure, equally ready to join us in exercising German patience and German love toward all, and especially toward our new countrymen, and in endeavoring to discover, and finally to reach, the right goal.



WE SHALL NEVER GO TO CANOSSA!

May 14, 1872

TRANSLATED BY EDMUND VON MACH, PH.D.

[Early in 1872 the German government tried to bring about a peaceful understanding with the ultramontane (i. e., Catholic) party by courteous advances made to the pope. The cardinal prince Hohenlohe-Schillings-fuerst was designated as ambassador to His Holiness the Pope who was asked whether the prince would be acceptable. The pope replied in the negative, and thereby deeply hurt the emperor. When the expenses of this post in the budget were under discussion in the Reichstag, Mr. von Bennigsen expressed the hope that they would be struck from the budget in future, to which Bismarck replied as follows:]

I can readily understand how the idea may arise that the expenses for this embassy have become unnecessary, because there is no longer a question here of protecting German subjects in those parts. I am, nevertheless, glad that no motion has been made to abolish this position, for it would have been unwelcome to the government.

The duties of an embassy are in part, it is true, the protection of its countrymen, but in part also the mediation of the political relations which the government of the empire happens to maintain with the court where the ambassador is accredited. There is no foreign sovereign authorized by the present state of our legislation to exercise as extensive rights within the German empire as the pope. While these rights are almost those of a sovereign, they are not guarded by any constitutional responsibility. Considerable importance, therefore, attaches to the kind of diplomatic relations which the German empire is able to maintain with the head of the Roman Church, who exerts such a remarkably strong and, for a foreign sovereign, unusual influence among us. Considering the prevailing tendencies of the Catholic Church at the present time, I scarcely believe that any ambassador of the German empire would succeed in inducing His Holiness the Pope, by the most skilful diplomacy and by persuasion, to modify the position which he has taken, on principle, in all secular affairs. There can, of course, be no question here of forceful actions, such as may occur between two secular powers. In view of the recently promulgated doctrines of the Catholic Church, I deem it impossible for any secular power to reach a concordat without effacing itself to a degree and in a way which, to the German empire at least, is unacceptable. You need not be afraid, we shall never go to Canossa, either actually or in spirit.

Nevertheless, I cannot deny that the position of the empire as regards its religious peace is somewhat shaken. It is not my duty here to investigate motives, or to ask which one of the two parties is at fault, but to defend an item of the budget. The united governments of the German empire are searching eagerly and, in justice to their Catholic and their Evangelical subjects, diligently for means which will secure a more agreeable state of affairs than the present, and which will do so as peacefully as possible, and without unnecessarily disturbing the religious relations of the empire. I doubt whether this can be done except by legislation—I mean general and national legislation, for which the governments will have to ask for the assistance of the Reichstag.

But you will agree with me that this legislation should proceed with great moderation and delicacy, and with due regard for every one's freedom of conscience. The governments must be careful to avoid anything which will render their task more difficult, such as errors of information or ignorance of the proper forms, and must strive to readjust their internal peace with tender regard for religious sensibilities, even those which are not shared by all. In this connection it is, of course, necessary that the Holy See should be at all times well informed of the intentions of the German governments, certainly more so than has been the case heretofore. One of the chief causes of the present disturbance in religious matters is, I believe, the misinformation which has reached His Holiness the Pope concerning the conditions in Germany and the intentions of the German governments, and which has been due either to excitement or to the wrong color given it by evil motives.

I had hoped that the choice of an ambassador, who possessed the full confidence of both parties, would be welcome in Rome, of a man who loves truth and deserves confidence, and whose character and bearing are conciliatory; in short, of a man like the well known prince of the Church whom His Majesty the Emperor had appointed to this post. I had hoped that this choice would be regarded as a pledge of our peaceful attitude and willingness to make advances, and would serve as a bridge to a mutual understanding. I had hoped that it would give the assurance that we should never ask anything of His Holiness the Pope but what a prince of the Church, allied to him by the most intimate ties, could present and convey to him, and that the forms would always be in keeping with those which characterize the intercourse of one prince of the Church with another. This would have avoided all unnecessary friction in a case which is difficult enough.

Many fears were expressed both by the Protestants and the liberals concerning this appointment, based, I believe, on an erroneous interpretation of the position of an envoy or an ambassador. An ambassador really is a vessel which reaches its full value only when it is filled with the instructions of its master. In such delicate matters as these, however, it is desirable that the vessel should be agreeable and acceptable, and that it should be incapable of containing poisons or potions without immediately revealing them, as people used to say of ancient crystals. Unfortunately, and for reasons which have not yet been given, these intentions of the Imperial Government could not be carried out because they met with a curt refusal on the part of the Holy See. I can truly say that such a case does not often happen. When a sovereign has made his choice of an ambassador, it is customary for him to inquire, from courtesy, whether the ambassador will be persona grata with the sovereign to whom he will be accredited, but the receipt of a negative reply is most unusual, for it necessitates the repeal of an appointment already made. What the emperor can do toward the appointment he does before asking the question. In other words he has made the appointment before he asks the question. The negative reply, therefore, is a demand that a step once taken shall be repealed, a declaration which says: "You have made a wrong choice!"

I have been foreign minister for about ten years, and have been engaged in questions of higher diplomacy for twenty-one years, and I am not mistaken, I believe, when I say that this is the first and only case in my experience where such a question has been answered in the negative. I have known more than once of doubts expressed concerning ambassadors who had served for some time, and of courts confidentially conveying their wish that a change be made in the person accredited to them. In every case, however, the court had had the experience of diplomatic relations with the particular person through several years, and was convinced that he was not qualified to safeguard the good relations which it wished to maintain with us. It explained, therefore, in a most confidential and delicate way, generally by means of an autograph letter from one sovereign to the other, why it had taken this step. Such requests are rarely, if ever, made unconditionally. In recent times, as you know, a few cases have occurred, one of which at least was a very flagrant one, when the recall of an ambassador was demanded; but as I have said, I do not remember another instance where an ambassador was refused when he was to be newly appointed. My regrets at this refusal are exceedingly keen, but I am not justified in translating these regrets into a feeling of vexation, for in justice to our Catholic fellow-citizens the Government should not relax its exertions in trying to find ways and means of regulating the dividing line between the spiritual and the secular powers. Such a division is absolutely necessary in the interest of our internal peace, and it should be brought about in the most delicate manner, and in a way which will give least offence to either confession. I shall, therefore, not be discouraged by what has happened, but shall continue to use my influence with his Majesty the Emperor to the end that a representative of the empire may be found for Rome who enjoys the confidence of both powers, if not in equal measure, at least in measure sufficient for his duties. I cannot, of course, deny that our task has been rendered decidedly more difficult by what has happened.

* * * * *



BISMARCK AS THE "HONEST BROKER"

February 19, 1878

TRANSLATED BY EDMUND VON MACH, PH.D.

[The complete victory which Russia had won in the Turkish war had greatly disturbed the European powers, and in Germany much apprehension was felt for the safety of Austria. England, too, was much concerned, for she had been displeased at Bismarck's refusal to intervene in the war. German public opinion was aroused, and the representative von Bennigsen joined with four colleagues in the following interpellation, which they made in the Reichstag on February 8: "Is the Chancellor willing to inform the Reichstag of the political situation in the Orient, and of the position which the German empire has taken or intends to take in regard to it?" The interpellation was put on the calendar of February 19, and while Bismarck regarded it as ill timed he was ready to reply, lest his silence be misunderstood.]

I first ask the indulgence of the Reichstag if I should not be able to stand while I say everything I have to say. I am not so well as I look.

With regard to the question, I cannot deny that I was in doubt, when I first saw the interpellation, not whether I would answer it—for its form gives me the right to answer it with a "No"—but whether I should not have to say "No." Do not assume, gentlemen, as one generally does in such cases, that the reason was because I had to suppress a good deal which would compromise our policy or restrict it in an undesirable manner. On the contrary, I have hardly enough to say in addition to what is already generally known to induce me, of my own initiative, to make a statement to the representatives of the empire.

The discussions in the English parliament have almost exhaustively answered one part of the question "What is the political situation in the Orient at the present time?" If, in spite of the paucity of the information with which I am addressing you, I do not say "No" it is because I fear the inference that I have much to suppress, and because such an inference is always disquieting, especially when it is coupled with the desire to make capital out of my silence. I am the more pleased to address you with complete frankness, because the interpellation and the way it was introduced have given me the impression that if the German policy wishes to correspond to the majority opinion of the Reichstag—in so far as I may consider the recent comments an expression of this opinion—it has only to continue along the path which it has thus far followed.

Regarding the present situation, I suspect that you already know everything I can say about it. You know from the press and the English parliamentary debates that at present one can say in the Orient, "The arms are idle, and the storms of war are hushed"—God grant, for a long while! The armistice which has been concluded grants the Russian army an unbroken position from the Danube to the sea of Marmora, with a base which it lacked formerly. I mean the fortresses near the Danube. This fact, which is nowhere denied, seems to me to be the most important of the whole armistice. There is excluded from the Russian occupation, if I begin in the north, a quadrangular piece, with Varna and Shumla, extending along the shore of the Black Sea to Battshila in the north, and not quite to the Bay of Burgas in the south, thence inland to about Rasgrad—a pretty exact quadrangle. Constantinople and the peninsula of Gallipoli are also excluded, the very two points on whose independence of Russia several interested powers are laying much stress.

Certain peace preliminaries preceded the armistice, which at the risk of telling you things you already know I shall nevertheless review because they will answer the question whether German interests are at stake in any one of them. There is, in the first place, the establishment of Bulgaria "within the limits determined by the majority of the Bulgarian population, and not smaller than indicated by the conference of Constantinople."

The difference between these two designations is not of sufficient importance, I believe, to constitute a reasonable danger to the peace of Europe. The ethnographical information which we possess is, it is true, not authentic nor without gaps, and the best we know has been supplied by Germans in the maps by Kiepert. According to this the national frontier—the frontier of the Bulgarian nationality—runs down in the west just beyond Salonica, along a line where the races are rather unmixed, and in the east with an increased admixture of Turkish elements in the direction of the Black Sea. The frontier of the conference, on the other hand, so far as it is possible to trace it, runs—beginning at the sea—considerably farther north than the national frontier, and two separate Bulgarian provinces are contemplated. In the west it reaches somewhat farther than the national frontier into the districts which have an admixture of Albanian races. The constitution of Bulgaria according to the preliminaries would be similar to that of Servia before the evacuation of Belgrade and other strongholds; for this first paragraph of the preliminaries closes with these words, "The Ottoman army will not remain there," and, in parenthesis, "barring a few places subject to mutual agreement."

It will, therefore, devolve upon the powers who signed the Paris treaty of 1856 to discuss and define those sentences which were left open and indefinite there, and to come to an agreement with Russia, if this is possible, as I hope it may be.

Then there follow "The Independence of Montenegro * * * also of Roumania and Servia;" and directions concerning Bosnia and Herzegovina, whose reforms "should be analogous."

None of these things, I am convinced, touches the interests of Germany to such an extent that we should be justified in jeopardizing for its sake our relations with our neighbors—our friends. We may accept one or the other definition without loss in our spheres of interest.

Then there follows, under paragraph five, a stipulation concerning the indemnity of war, which leaves the question open, whether "it should be pecuniary or territorial." This is a matter which concerns the belligerents in so far as it may be pecuniary, and the signers of the Paris treaty of peace in so far as it may be territorial, and will have to be settled by their consent.

Then there follows the provision concerning the Dardanelles. This, I believe, has given cause for much more anxiety in the world than is justified by the actual possibilities of any probable outcome. "His Majesty the Sultan declares his willingness to come to an agreement with His Majesty the Emperor of Russia with a view of safeguarding the rights and interests of Russia in the straits of the Bosphorus and the Dardanelles."

The question of the Dardanelles is freighted with importance when it means placing the control there—the key of the Bosphorus—in other hands than heretofore, and deciding whether Russia shall be able to close and to open the Dardanelles at will. All other stipulations can have reference only to times of peace, for in the more important times of war the question will always hinge on whether the possessor of the key to the Dardanelles is in alliance with or dependent on those living outside or inside the Dardanelles, on Russia or on the opponents of Russia. In case of war, I believe no stipulation which may be made will have the importance which people fear, provided the Dardanelles are in times of peace in the possession of people who are fully independent of Russia. It may be of interest for the people on the shores of the Mediterranean to know whether the Russian Black Sea fleet shall be permitted in times of peace to sail through the Dardanelles and to show itself on their shores. If, however, it shows itself there, I should infer Peace, like good weather from the barometer; when it withdraws and carefully secludes itself, then it is time to suspect that clouds are gathering. The question, therefore, whether men-of-war shall be permitted to pass the Dardanelles in times of peace, although by no means unimportant, is to my way of thinking not sufficiently important to inflame Europe.

The question whether the possession of the Dardanelles shall be shifted to other owners is entirely different. It constitutes, however, a conjectural eventuality which the present situation does not contemplate, I believe, and on which I shall, therefore, express no opinion. My only concern at present is to give an approximate definition, as best I can, of those weighty interests which may lead to another war after the Russian-Turkish war has been actually concluded. For this reason I deem it important to affirm that the stipulations of peace concerning the Dardanelles mean less for the men-of-war than for the merchant marine. The preeminent German interest in the Orient demands that the waterways, the straits as well as the Danube from the Black Sea upward, shall continue as free and open to us as they have been until now. I rather infer that we shall surely obtain this, for as a matter of fact it has never even been questioned. An official communication on this point which I have received from St. Petersburg simply refers to the existing stipulations of the treaty of Paris. Nothing is jeopardized; our position can be no worse and no better than it has been.

The interest which we have in a better government of a Christian nation and in the safeguards against those acts of violence which have occurred at times, under Turkish rule, is taken care of by the agreements mentioned above. And this is the second interest which Germany has in this whole affair. It is less direct, but is dictated by humanity.

The rest of the preliminary stipulations consists—I will not say of phrases, for it is an official paper—but it has no bearing on our present discussion.

With these explanations I have answered to the best of my ability the first part of the interpellation concerning the present state of affairs in the Orient, and I fear, gentlemen, that I have said nothing new to any one of you.

The other parts of the question refer to the position which Germany has taken or intends to take in view of the now existing conditions and innovations.

As to the position which we have already taken I cannot now give you any information, for officially we have been in possession of the papers to which I have referred only a very short while, I may say literally only since this very morning. What we knew beforehand was in general agreement with these papers, but not of a nature to make official steps possible. It consisted of private communications for which we were indebted to the courtesy of other governments.

Official steps, therefore, have not yet been taken, and would be premature in view of the conference, which I hope is at hand. All this information will then be available and we shall be in a position to exchange opinions concerning these matters. Any alterations, therefore, of the stipulations of 1856 will have to be sanctioned. If they should not be, the result would not necessarily be another war, but a condition of affairs which all the powers of Europe, I think, have good cause to avoid. I am almost tempted to call it making a morass of matters. Let us assume that no agreement about what has to be done can be reached in the conference, and that the powers who have a chief interest in opposing the Russian stipulations should say: "At the present moment it does not suit us to go to war about these questions, but we are not in accord with your agreements, and we reserve our decision"—would not that establish a condition of affairs which cannot be agreeable even to Russia? The Russian policy rightly says, "We are not desirous of exposing ourselves to the necessity of a Turkish campaign every ten or twenty years, for it is exhausting, strenuous, and expensive." But the Russian policy, on the other hand, cannot wish to substitute for this Turkish danger an English-Austrian entanglement recurring every ten or twenty years. It is, therefore, my opinion that Russia is equally interested with the other powers in reaching an agreement now, and in not deferring it to some future and perhaps less convenient time.

That Russia could possibly wish to force the other powers by war to sanction the changes which she deems necessary I consider to be beyond the realm of probability. If she could not obtain the sanction of the other signers of the clauses of 1856, she would, I suppose, be satisfied with the thought "Beati possidentes" (happy are the possessors). Then the question would arise whether those who are dissatisfied with the Russian agreements and have real and material interests at stake, would be ready to wage war in order to force Russia to diminish her demands or to give up some of them. If they should be successful in forcing Russia to give up more than she could bear, they would do so at the risk of leaving in Russia, when the troops come home, a feeling similar to that in Prussia after the treaties of 1815, a lingering feeling that matters really are not settled, and that another attempt will have to be made.

If this could be achieved by a war, one would have to regard, as the aim of this war, the expulsion of Russia from the Bulgarian strongholds which she is at present occupying, and from her position which no doubt is threatening Constantinople—although she has given no indication of a wish to occupy this city. Those who would have accomplished this by a victorious war, would then have to shoulder the responsibility of deciding what should be done with these countries of European Turkey. That they should be willing simply to reinstate the Turkish rule in its entirety after everything said and determined in the conference, is, I believe, very improbable. They would, therefore, be obliged to make some kind of a disposition, which could not differ very much in principle from what is being proposed now. It might differ in geographical extent and in the degree of independence, but I do not believe that Austria-Hungary, for instance, the nearest neighbor, would be ready to accept the entire heritage of the present Russian conquest, and be responsible for the future of these Slavic countries, either by incorporating them in the state of Hungary or establishing them as dependencies. I do not believe that this is an end which Austria can much desire in view of her own Slavic subjects. She cannot wish to be the editor of the future in the Balkan peninsula, as she would have to be if she won a victory.

I mention all these eventualities, in which I place no faith, for the sake of proving how slight the reasonable probability of a European war appears to be. It is not reasonably probable that the greater or lesser extent of a tributary State—unless conditions were altogether unbearable—should induce two neighboring and friendly powers to start a destructive European war in cold blood! The blood will be cooler, I assure you, when we have at last come together in a conference.

It was to meet these eventualities that the idea of a conference was first proposed by the government of Austria-Hungary. We were from the start ready to accept it, and we were almost the first to do so. Concerning the selection of a place where the conference should be held, difficulties arose which I consider out of proportion to the significance of the whole matter. But even in this direction we have raised no objections and declared ourselves satisfied with the places which have been mentioned. They were Vienna, Brussels, Baden-Baden, Wiesbaden, Wildbad, a place in Switzerland—I should, however, say Wildbad was mentioned by no one but itself. Stuttgart was also mentioned. Any of these places would have been agreeable to us. It now seems—if I am correctly informed, and the decision must be made in a few days—that the choice will fall on Baden-Baden. Our interest, which is shared by those powers with whom we have corresponded, is the despatch of the conference irrespective of the choice of a place, which is for us of little consequence. As regards places in Germany I have expressed no opinion beyond this, that on German soil the presidency would have to be German. This view has nowhere been opposed. After the general acceptance of this principle it will depend on the men sent to attend this conference whether for reasons of expediency it must be adhered to. Personally I believe the conference is assured, and I expect that it will take place in the first half of next March. It would be desirable that the conference should take place sooner—and the uncertainty concerning it be ended. But before the powers join in a conference, they naturally desire an exchange of opinion the one with the other; and the connections with the seat of war are really very slow. The delay of the communications which reached us was, and still is, explained by the delay with which news comes from the seat of war. The suspicion which has for some time been felt in the press that this delay was intentional becomes unfounded when one realizes that the advance of the Russian army following January 30 was in consequence of the stipulations of the armistice, and did not constitute an advantage taken of an opportune moment. The boundaries within which the Russian army is stationed today are the lines of demarcation expressly mentioned in the armistice. I do not believe in any intentional delay from anywhere; on the contrary, I have confidence in the good intentions everywhere to send representatives to the conference speedily. We certainly shall do our part to the best of our ability.

I now come to the most difficult part—excuse me if I continue for the present seated—I come to the most difficult part of the task set me, an explanation, so far as this is possible, of the position which Germany is to take in the conference. In this connection you will not expect from me anything but general indications of our policy. Its programme Mr. von Bennigsen has developed before you clearly and comprehensively, almost more so than nay strength at the present moment permits me to do.

When from many quarters the demand has been made upon us—to be sure from no government, but only from voices in the press and other well meaning advisers—that e should define our policy from the start and force it on the other governments in some form, I must say that this seems to me to be newspaper diplomacy rather than the diplomacy of a statesman.

Let me explain to you at once the difficulty and impossibility of such a course. If we did express a definite programme, which we should be obliged to follow when we had announced it officially and openly not only before you, but also before the whole of Europe, should we not then place a premium on the contentiousness of all those who considered our programme to be not favorable to themselves!

We should also render the part of mediation in the conference, which I deem very important, almost impossible for ourselves, because everybody with the menu of the German policy in his hand could say to us: "German mediation can go just so far; it can do this, and this it cannot do." It is quite possible that the free hand which Germany has preserved, and the uncertainty of Germany's decisions have not been without influence on the preservation of peace thus far. If you play the German card, laying it on the table, everybody knows how to adapt himself to it or how to avoid it. Such a course is impracticable if you wish to preserve peace. The adjustment of peace does not, I believe, consist in our playing the arbiter, saying: "It must be thus, and the weight of the German empire stands behind it." Peace is brought about, I think, more modestly. Without straining the simile which I am quoting from our everyday life, it partakes more of the behavior of the honest broker, who really wishes to bring about a bargain.

As long as we follow this policy we are in the position to save a power which has secret wishes from the embarrassment of meeting with a refusal or an unpleasant reply from its—let me say, congressional opponent. If we are equally friendly with both, we can first sound one and then say to the other: "Do not do that, try to arrange matters in this way." These are helps in business which should be highly esteemed. I have an experience of many years in such matters, and it has been brought home to me often, that when two are alone the thread drops more frequently and is not picked up because of false shame. The moment when it could be picked up passes, people separate in silence, and are annoyed. If, however, a third person is present, he can pick up the thread without much ado, and bring the two together again when they have parted. This is the function of which I am thinking and which corresponds to the amicable relations in which we are living with our friendly neighbors along our extensive borders. It is moreover in keeping with the union among the three imperial courts which has existed for five years, and the intimacy which we enjoy with England, another one of the powers chiefly concerned in this matter. As regards England we are in the fortunate position of not having any conflicting interests, except perhaps some trade rivalries or passing annoyances. These latter cannot be avoided, but there is absolutely nothing which could drive two industrious and peace-loving nations to war. I happily believe, therefore, that we may be the mediator between England and Russia, just as I know we are between Austria and Russia, if they should not be able to agree of their own accord.

The three-emperor-pact, if one wishes to call it such, while it is generally called a treaty, is not based on any written obligations, and no one of the three emperors can be voted down by the other two. It is based on the personal sympathy among the three rulers, on the personal confidence which they have in one another, and on the personal relations which for many years have existed among the leading ministers of all three empires.

We have always avoided forming a majority of two against one when there was a difference of opinion between Austria and Russia, and we have never definitely taken the part of one of them, even if our own desires drew us more strongly in that direction. We have refrained from this for fear that the tie might not be sufficiently strong after all. It surely cannot be so strong that it could induce one of these great powers to disregard its own incontestably national interests for the sake of being obliging. That is a sacrifice which no great power makes pour les beaux yeux of another. Such a sacrifice it makes only when arguments are replaced by hints of strength. Then it may happen that the great power will say: "I hate to make this concession, but I hate even worse to go to war with so strong a power as Germany. Still I will remember this and make a note of it." That is about the way in which such things are received. And this leads me to the necessity of vigorously opposing all exaggerated demands made on Germany's mediation. Let me declare that they are out of the question so long as I have the honor of being the adviser of His Majesty.

I know that in saying this I am disappointing a great many expectations raised in connection with today's disclosures, but I am not of the opinion that we should go the road of Napoleon and try to be, if not the arbiter, at least the schoolmaster of Europe.

I have here a clipping given me today from the Allgemeine Zeitung, which contains a noteworthy article entitled "The Policy of Germany in the Decisive Hour." This article demands as necessary the admission of a third power to the alliance of England and Austria. That means, we shall take part with England and Austria and deprive Russia of the credit of voluntarily making the concessions which she may be willing to grant in the interest of European peace. I do not doubt that Russia will sacrifice for the sake of peace in Europe whatever her sense of nationality and her own interests and those of eighty million Russians permit. It is really superfluous to say this. And now please assume that we took the advice of the gentlemen who think that we should play the part of an arbiter—I have here another article from a Berlin paper, called "Germany's Part as Arbiter"—and that we declared to Russia in some polite and amicable way: "We have been friends, it is true, for hundreds of years, Russia has ever been true-blue to us when we were in difficulties, but now things are different. In the interest of Europe, as the policemen of Europe, as a kind of a justice of the peace, we must do as we are requested, we can no longer resist the demands of Europe ...," what would be the result?

There are considerable numbers of Russians who do not love Germany, and who fortunately are not at the helm now, but who would not be unhappy if they were called there. What would they say to their compatriots, they and perhaps other statesmen who at present are not yet avowedly hostile to us? They would say: "With what sacrifices of blood and men and money have we not won the position which for centuries has been the ideal of Russian ambition! We could have maintained it against those opponents who may have a real interest in combating it. It was not Austria, with whom we have lived on moderately intimate terms for some time, it was not England, who possesses openly acknowledged counter-interests to ours—no, it was our intimate friend Germany who drew, behind our back, not her sword but a dagger, although we might have expected from her services in return for services rendered, and although she has no interests in the Orient."

Those approximately would be the phrases, and this the theme which we should hear in Russia. This picture which I have drawn in exaggerated lines—but the Russian orators also exaggerate—corresponds with the truth. We, however, shall never assume the responsibility of sacrificing the certain friendship of a great nation, tested through generations, to the momentary temptation of playing the judge in Europe.

To jeopardize the friendship which fortunately binds us to most European states and at the present moment to all,—for the parties to whom it is an eyesore are not in power,—to jeopardize, I say, this friendship with one friend in order to oblige another, when we as Germans have no direct interests, and to buy the peace of others at the cost of our own, or, to speak with college boys, to substitute at a duel—such things one may do when one risks only one's own life, but I cannot do them when I have to counsel His Majesty the Emperor as regards the policy of a great State of forty million people in the heart of Europe. From this tribune I therefore take the liberty of saying a very definite "No" to all such imputations and suggestions. I shall under no condition do anything of the kind; and no government, none of those primarily interested, has made any such demands. Germany, as the last speaker remarked, has grown to new responsibilities as it has grown stronger. But even if we are able to throw a large armed force into the scales of European policies, I do not consider anybody justified in advising the emperor and the princes (who would have to discuss the matter in the Bundesrat if we wished to wage an offensive war) to make an appeal to the proven readiness of the nation to offer blood and money for a war. The only war which I am ready to counsel to the emperor is one to protect our independence abroad and our union at home, or to defend those of our interests which are so clear that we are supported, if we insist on them, not only by the unanimous vote of the Bundesrat, which is necessary, but also by the undivided enthusiasm of the whole German nation.



SALUS PUBLICA—BISMARCK'S ONLY LODE-STAR

February 24, 1881

TRANSLATED BY EDMUND VON MACH, PH.D.

[On February 24, 1881, the budget of the empire for the ensuing year was under discussion. The representative, Mr. Richter, made use of this opportunity to attack the home-politics of the chancellor in their entirety. He felt great concern about the growing power of the chancellor, and called upon his liberal colleagues to stem the tide, and to curb the power of the chancellor. "Only if this is done will the great gifts which distinguish the chancellor continue to be fruitful for Germany. If this is not possible, and if we go on as we have been going, the chancellor will ruin himself, and he will ruin the country." Prince Bismarck replied:]

The remarks of the previous speaker have hardly touched on the subject under discussion, the budget, since I have been here. Consequently I am excused, I suppose, from adding anything to what the secretary of the treasury has said. The previous speaker has mainly concerned himself with a critique of my personality. The number of times the word "chancellor" appears in his speech in proportion to the total number of words sufficiently justifies my assertion. Well, I do not know what is the use of this critique, if not to instruct me and to educate me. But I am in my sixty-sixth year and in the twentieth of my tenure of office—there will not be much in me to improve. You will have to use me up as I am or push me aside. I, on my part, have never made the attempt to educate the Honorable Mr. Richter—I do not think I am called upon to do it; nor have I endeavored to force him from his sphere of activity—I should not have the means of doing this, nor do I wish it. But I believe he in his turn will lack the means of forcing me from my position. Whether he will be able to compress me and circumscribe me, as toward the end of his speech he said was desirable, I do not know. I am, however, truly grateful to him for the concern he expressed about my health. Unfortunately, if I wish to do my duty, I cannot take such care of myself as Mr. Richter deems desirable—I shall have to risk my health.

When he said that every evil troubling us, even the rate of interest and I know not what else, was based on the uncertainty of our conditions, and when he quoted the word of a colleague of a "hopeless confusion"—well, gentlemen, then I must repeat what I have said elsewhere and in the hearing of the Honorable Mr. Richter: Make a comparison and look about you in other countries! If our conditions with their ordered activities and their assured future at home and abroad constitute a "hopeless confusion," how shall we characterize the conditions of many another country? I can see in no European country a condition of safety and an assured outlook into the future similar to that prevailing in the German empire. I have already said on the former occasion that my position as minister of foreign affairs made it impossible for me to be specific. But everyone who will follow my remarks with a map in his hand, and a knowledge of history during the past twenty years, will have to say that I am right. I do not know what is the use of these exaggerations of a "hopeless confusion" and "a lack of assurance and uncertainty of the future." Nobody in the country believes it; and isn't that the chief thing? The people in the country know perfectly well how they are off, and all who do not fare as they wish are pleased to blame the government for it. When a candidate comes up for election, and says to them: "The government—or to quote the previous speaker—the chancellor is to blame for all this," he may find many credulous people, but in the majority he will find people who will say: "The chancellor surely has his faults and drawbacks"—but most people will not be convinced that I am to blame for everything. I am faring in this respect like Emperor Napoleon twelve years and more ago, who was accused, not in his own country but in Europe, as the cause of all evils, from Tartary to Spain, and he was not nearly so bad a creature as he was said to be—may I not also claim the benefit of this doubt with Mr. Richter? I, too, am not so bad as I am painted. His attack upon me, moreover, if he will stop to reflect, is largely directed not against me personally, or against that part of my activities in which I possess freedom of action, no—it is directed primarily against the constitution of the German empire. The constitution of the German empire knows no other responsible officer but the chancellor. I might assert that my constitutional responsibility does not go nearly so far as the one actually placed upon me; and I might take things a little easier and say: "I have nothing to do with the home policies of the empire, for I am only the emperor's executive officer." But I will not do this. From the beginning I have assumed the responsibility, and also the obligation, of defending the decisions of the Bundesrat, provided I can reconcile them with my responsibility, even if I find myself there in the minority. This responsibility I will take as public opinion understands it. Nobody, however, can be held responsible for acts and resolves not his own. No responsibility can be foisted on anybody—nor did the imperial constitution intend to do this—for acts which do not depend on his own free will, and into which he can be forced. The responsible person, therefore, must enjoy complete independence and freedom within the sphere of his responsibility. If he does not, all responsibility ceases; and I do not know on whose shoulders it will rest—so far as the empire is concerned it has disappeared completely.

As long, therefore, as Mr. Richter does not change the constitution, you yourselves must insist on having a chancellor who is absolutely free and independent in his decisions, for no man can hold him responsible for those things which he is unable to decide for himself, freely and independently. Mr. Richter has expressed the wish of limiting in several directions this constitutional independence of the chancellor. In the first place, in one direction where it is already limited and where he wishes to have it disappear entirely. This concerns his responsibility for those acts in our political life which the constitution assigns to the emperor in connection with the decisions of the Bundesrat and the Reichstag. There can be no doubt that these acts include also those which have to be performed, as the constitution says, in the name of the emperor; the submission, for instance, to the Reichstag of a resolve of the Bundesrat. Mr. Richter has correctly quoted an incident, mentioned in the North German Gazette, concerning the resolves on some collected cases of accidents, which I considered it incompatible with my responsibility to submit to you in the name of the emperor. I, therefore, did not do it. One may well ask: What has the constitutional law to say on this point? Was I justified in not acting? Was the emperor justified in not acting! Or was His Majesty the Emperor bound by the constitution to submit to you the resolve of the Bundesrat?

At the time when the constitution was being drawn I once discussed this point with an astute jurist, who had long been and still is with us in an important position—Mr. Pape. He said to me: "The emperor has no veto." I replied, "Constitutionally he has not, but suppose a measure is expected of him which he thinks he should not take, and against which his then chancellor warns him, saying: I cannot advocate it, and I shall not countersign it. Well, in this case is the emperor obliged to look for another chancellor, and to dismiss him who opposes the measure? Is he obliged to accept anyone as chancellor, suggested perhaps by the other party? Will he look for a second or third chancellor, both of whom may say: We cannot assume the responsibility for this bill by submitting it to the Reichstag?" Hereupon Mr. Pape replied: "You are right, the emperor possesses an indirect but actual veto."

I do not even go so far, for none of these cases are pressed to their logical conclusion. Let us, however, take a concrete case, which will make these matters perfectly clear. Suppose the majority of the Bundesrat had passed a bill with the approval of Prussia, but Prussia had made the mistake of not calling upon the Prussian minister designated to instruct the Prussian delegation in the Bundesrat; or even—Prussia had consented and the minister had been present, and had been in the minority also in the Prussian cabinet, and the emperor had directed him to submit the resolves of the Bundesrat to the Reichstag, to which the chancellor had replied: "I do not believe that I can answer for this, or that my responsibility permits me to do it." Then there results the possibility of the emperor's saying: "If that is so, I must look for another chancellor." This did not happen; another thing happened, namely—the resolve was not submitted. The ensuing situation is this, that the persons entitled to complain—if there are any—constitute the majority of the governments who passed this resolve in the Bundesrat.

This points the proper way, and I believe in weighty questions it would be taken to the end. In the present case if one were to make a test of what is really right, the majority of the Bundesrat would have to represent to His Majesty as follows: "We have passed a resolve, and our constitutional right demands that the emperor submit it to the Reichstag. We demand that this be done." The emperor might reply: "I will not investigate the law of the case to see whether I am obliged to act. I will assume that I am, and I do not refuse to act, but for the present I have no chancellor willing to countersign the order." In such a case can the chancellor be ordered to sign, because he shall and must do so? Can he be threatened with imprisonment as is done with recalcitrant witnesses? What would then become of his responsibility! If the chancellor continues to refuse, the majority of the Bundesrat may say to the emperor: "You must dismiss this chancellor and get another. We insist that our resolve be laid before the Reichstag. If this is not done, the constitution will be broken." Well, gentlemen, why not wait and see whether this will happen, and whether those entitled to complain will take this course, and if they do, whether His Majesty the Emperor will not be ready to say after all: "All right, I shall try to find a chancellor who is willing to submit the resolve."

I shall, of course, not enter here upon a discussion of the reasons which determined me in this concrete case. They were reasons not found in shut-in offices, but in God's open country, and they induced me to deem the enactment of this law undesirable. I did not possess the certainty that a majority of this house would have seen the impossibility of carrying out the law, but I did not wish to expose the country to the danger—it was a danger according to my way of thinking—of getting this law. The only moment when I could guard against this danger was when the law was to be submitted in the name of the emperor. The constitutional remedy against such a use of an opportunity is a change of chancellors. I can see no other remedy.

Mentioning the Reichstag brings me to my cooeperation with it. Mr. Richter's ideal is, it seems to me, a bashful, cautious chancellor who throws out careful feelers whether he may offend here, if he does this, or offend there—one who does not wait for a final vote of the Reichstag, but rushes home excitedly, as I have often seen my colleagues do, exclaiming: "Oh God, the law is lost, this man and that man are opposed to it"—and three weeks later the law has Passed in spite of them. I cannot enter upon such a policy of conjecture and proof by inference of what may be determined in the Reichstag when the tendency of those who talk the loudest, but who are not always the most influential, happens to be against a bill; and if Mr. Richter should succeed in procuring such a timid chancellor anxiously listening for every hint, my advice to you, gentlemen, is to tolerate him in this position as briefly as possible. For if a leading minister—and such he is in the empire—has no opinion his own, and must hear from others what he should believe and do, then you do not need him at all. What Mr. Richter proposes is the government of the State by the Reichstag, the government of the State by itself, as it has been called in France, by its own chosen representatives. A chancellor, a minister who does not dare to submit a bill of the ultimate success of which he is not absolutely sure is no minister. He might as well move among you with the white sign (of a page) inquiring whether you will permit him to submit this or that. For such a part I am not made!

To what extent I am ready to submit to the Bundesrat I have already tried to explain, and I have closed with these words "sub judice lis est" (the case is still in court). I need not say now whether my constitutional conviction would make me yield to the majority of the Bundesrat, if they should demand it. This question has not yet arisen; the majority has not demanded it. Whether I shall maintain my opposition, if the demand is pressed, to this question I reply: non liquet (it is a moot-point); we shall see what happens. Such things are eventually decided by the old law which the Romans were astonished to find with the Germans, and of which they said, "They call it usage." Such a usage has not yet developed in connection with the interpretation of our constitution.

Finally, Mr. Richter has found in me too much independence in a third direction. He has been pleased to believe—if I understood him correctly—that the law concerning ministerial deputies would give me the welcome opportunity of withdrawing to a more ornamental position, to use his own expression, and to leave the duties and activities to those who are deputed to represent me, establishing thus also in the imperial government the famous arcanum of decisions by majorities. But here, too, I must say that Mr. Richter will have to change the constitution before I shall be able to subordinate myself to the highest officials of the empire. How can I appear before you saying: "Well, gentlemen, I am very doubtful whether I can advocate this measure, but the secretary in whose bureau it was worked out thinks so, and following Mr. Richter's advice I have yielded to his authority. If you do not adopt this measure you will gratify me, but not the secretary?" This, too, would be an altogether impossible position, although Mr. Richter is expecting it of me.

The chiefs of the bureaus are not responsible for me, except in so far as the law of deputies substitutes them for me but I am responsible for their actions. I have to guarantee that they are statesmen in general accord with the policy of the empire which I am willing to advocate. If I miss this accord in one of them, not once but continually and on principle, then it is my duty to tell him: "We cannot remain in office, both of us." This, too, is a task which I have never shirked when it has presented itself. It is simply my duty. I have never had need of such artful machinations and pyrotechnics as people claimed I instituted very wilfully last week. You need not think that ministers stick to their posts like many other high officials, whom not even the broadest hints can convince that their time has come. I have not yet found a minister in these days who had not to be persuaded every now and then to continue a little longer in office, and not to be discouraged by his hard and exhausting labor, due to the simultaneous friction with three parliamentary bodies—a House of Representatives, a House of Lords, and a Reichstag—where one relieves another, or two, without waiting to be relieved, are in session at the same time. And when the fight is over and the representatives have returned home well satisfied, then a bureau chief comes to the minister on the day after, saying: "It is time now to get the recommendations for the next session into shape."

The whole business, moreover, while very honorable, is scarcely pleasurable. Is any one obliged to submit to such public, sharp and impolite criticisms as a German minister? Is it true of anyone but him that the behavior customary among people of culture does not prevail when he addressed? Without the least scruple one says things to him publicly which one would be ashamed to say to him privately, if one were to meet him in a drawing-room, for instance. I should not say this here if the Reichstag did not hold an exceptional position in Germany in these matters as well as in everything else. Here I have never had to hear, so far as I remember, as sharp remarks as in other assemblies. At any rate I have a conciliatory memory. But on the whole you will agree with me that the tone of our public debates is less elevated than that of our social gatherings, especially when our ministers are addressed, but at times even among fellow members, although of this I am no competent critic. I do not even criticize the behavior toward the ministers, for I am hardened by an experience of many years and can stand it. I am merely describing the reasons why no minister clings to his post, and why you do me an injustice if you believe that it takes an artful effort to make a minister yield his place. Not many of them have been accustomed to see a totally ignorant correspondent tear an experienced minister to pieces in the press as if he were a stupid schoolboy. We see this in every newspaper every day, but we can stand it. We do not complain. But can anyone say that the members of the government—the bureau chiefs frequently fare even worse—meet in the parliamentary debates with that urbaneness of demeanor which characterizes our best society? I do not say "no," leaving it to you to answer this question. I only say that the business of being a minister is very arduous and cheerless, subject to vexations and decidedly exhausting. This brings it about that the ministers are habitually in a mood which makes them readily give up their places as soon as they have found another excuse than the simple: I have had enough, I do not care for more, I am tired of it.

The changes of ministers, however, have not been so many nor so quick with us as they are in other countries, and this I may mention to Mr. Richter as a proof of my amiability as a colleague. Count, if you will, the number of ministers who have crossed the public stage since I entered office in 1862, and sum up the resignations due to other than parliamentary reasons, and you will find a result exceedingly favorable to the accommodating spirit of the German minister when it is compared with that of any other country. I consider, therefore, the insinuating references to my quarrelsome disposition and fickleness distinctly wide of the mark.

In this connection I shall take the liberty of referring with one more word to the reproaches, often occurring in the press and also in the Reichstag, that I had frequently and abruptly changed my views. Well, I am not one of those who at any time of their life have believed, or believe today, that they can learn no more. If a man says to me: "Twenty years ago you held the same opinion as I; I still hold it, but you have changed your views," I reply: "You see, I was as clever twenty years ago as you are today. Today I know more, I have learned things in these twenty years." But, gentlemen, I will not even rely on the justice of the remark that the man who does not learn also fails to progress and cannot keep abreast of his time. People are falling behind when they remain rooted in the position they occupied years ago. However, I do not at all intend to excuse myself with such observations, for I have always had one compass only, one lode-star by which I have steered: Salus Publica, the welfare of the State. Possibly I have often acted rashly and hastily since I first began my career, but whenever I had time to think I have always acted according to the question, "What is useful, advantageous, and right for my fatherland, and—as long as this was only Prussia—for my dynasty, and today—for the German nation?" I have never been a theorist. The systems which bin and separate parties are for me of secondary importance. The nation comes first, its position in the world and its independence, and above all our organization along lines inch will make it possible for us to draw the free breath of a great nation.

Everything else, a liberal, reactionary, or conservative constitution—gentlemen, I freely confess, all this I consider in second place. It is the luxury of furnishing the house, when the house is firmly established. In the interest of the country I can parley now with one person, now with another in purely party questions. Theories I barter away cheaply. First let us build a structure secure on the outside and firmly knit on the inside, and protected by the ties of a national union. After that, when you ask my advice about furnishing the house with more or less liberal constitutional fittings, you may perhaps hear me say, "Ah well, I have no preconceived ideas. Make your suggestions, and, when the sovereign whom I serve agrees, you will find no objections on principle on my part." It can be done thus, and again thus. There are many roads leading to Rome. There are times when one should govern liberally, and times when one should govern autocratically. Everything changes. Nothing is eternal in these matters. But of the structure of the German empire and the union of the German nation I demand that they be free and unassailable, with not only a passing field fortification on one side. I have given to its creation and growth my entire strength from the very beginning. And if you point to a single moment when I have not steered by this direction of the compass-needle, you may perhaps prove that I have erred, but you cannot prove that I have for one moment lost sight of the national goal.



* * * * *



PRACTICAL CHRISTIANITY

April 2, 1881

TRANSLATED BY EDMUND VON MACH, PH.D.

[Prince Bismarck was trying to fight the revolutionary parties, not only with such restrictive laws as had been passed against the Socialists, but also with constructive measures like the one which had been submitted to the Reichstag on March 8, 1881. It proposed the insurance of the workingman against accidents, and the founding of a governmental insurance company. The bill was severely criticized, notably by Eugen Richter, who did not miss the opportunity of attacking also the chancellor personally. Prince Bismarck's reply made a deep impression in the country at large. The bill itself, however, was so badly amended in the Reichstag, that Bismarck urged the Bundesrat to reject it, which it did. Several changes, thereupon, were made in the bill, and, after having been delayed in committee, it was again brought up for discussion in 1884, when another exhaustive speech by the chancellor, on March 15, brought about its acceptance.]

Before turning to the subject in hand, I wish to reply to some remarks of the previous speaker, lest I forget them—they are of so little weight. He finished by saying that my prestige was waning. If he were right, I should feel like saying "Thank God," for prestige is a very burdensome affair. One suffers under its weight, and quickly gets tired of it. I do not care a farthing for it. When I was very much younger, about as old as the previous speaker is now, and when I was possibly still more ambitious than he, I lived for years without prestige, and was actually disliked, if not hated, by the majority of my fellow-citizens. At that time I felt better and more contented, and was healthier than during the years when I was most popular.

Such things do not mean much to me. I am doing my duty, let come what may.

As proof of his assertion the previous speaker claimed that the workingmen are refusing the help which the Imperial Government is trying to offer them. This he cannot possibly know. He has no idea of what the great mass of the workingmen are thinking. Probably he has some accurate information of what the eloquent place-hunters are thinking of the bill, people who are at the head of the labor movements, and the professional publicists, who need a following of workingmen—dissatisfied workingmen. But as to the workingman in general, we had better wait and see what he is thinking. I do not know whether the full meaning of this question has even yet sufficiently penetrated into his circles to make it a subject of discussion, except in the learned clubs of laborers, and among the leading place-hunters and speakers. In the next election we shall be able to tell whether the workingmen have formed their opinion of the bill by then, not to speak of now.

The legislation on which we are entering with this bill has to do with a question which will probably stay on your calendar for a long while. The previous speaker has correctly said that "it opens up a very deep perspective," and it is not at all impossible that it may also make the moderate Socialists judge more kindly of the government. We have been talking of a social question for fifty years; and, since the passage of the law against the Socialists, I have been constantly reminded, officially, from high quarters, and by the people, that we gave a promise at that time. Something positive should be done to remove the causes for Socialism, in so far as they are legitimate. I have received such reminders daily. Nor do I believe that this social question, which has been before us for fifty years now, will be definitely settled even by our children and children's children. No political question ever reaches so complete a mathematical solution that the books can be balanced. Such questions arise, abide a while and finally give way to other historical problems. This is the way of organic developments.

I deem it my duty to take up this question quietly and without party vehemence, because I do not know who else could do this successfully if not the Imperial Government. It is a pity that party questions should be mixed up in it. The previous speaker has referred to a supposedly active exchange of telegrams between "certain parties" and "an high official," which in this case, I must believe, means me. I am mentioning this, in passing, because he said the same thing a few days ago in another speech. Gentlemen, this is a very simple matter. I receive thousands of telegrams; and, being a polite man, I should probably reply also to a telegram from Mr. Richter, if he were to honor me with a friendly despatch. When I am cordially addressed in a message, I have to reply in cordial terms. I cannot possibly have the police ascertain to what party the senders belong. Nor am I so diffident in my views that I should wish to catechize the senders as to their political affiliations. If anybody takes pleasure in making me appear to be a member of anti-semitic societies, let him do so. I have kept away from all undesirable movements, as my position demands, and I could wish that also you gentlemen would refrain more than heretofore from inciting the classes against each other, and from oratorical phrases which fan class-hatred. This refers especially to those gentlemen who have bestowed their kind attention upon the Government and upon me personally. When we heard the representative, Mr. Lasker, say the other day that the policy of the government was aristocratic, this term was bound to render the whole aristocracy and what belongs to it suspected of selfishness in the eyes of the poor men, at whose expense the aristocracy seemingly exists. When such expressions fall on anti-semitic ground, how is it possible to avoid reprisals? The anti-semites will coin their own word with which to designate—as they think appropriately—the policies opposed to ours. The resulting epithet I do not care to mention; every one will think of it himself. When afterwards a newspaper like the Tribune, which is said to be owned by Mr. Bamberger, makes itself the mouthpiece of Mr. Lasker's expression, claiming it to be correct, and hailing the invention of this word as a discovery worthy of Columbus, and when the Tribune finally asserts that "care for the poor" and "aristocracy" cannot exist in the same train of thought, can you not imagine what will happen when all this is turned around, and altered by an anti-semite? Are you in doubt what he will substitute for "aristocracy," and do you not know that he will repeat every twist and turn of speech with which Mr. Bamberger's sheet imputes selfish injustice to the aristocracy?

The representative Mr. Richter has called attention to the responsibility of the State for everything it does in the field on which it is entering today. Well, gentlemen, I feel that the State may become responsible also for the things it does not do. I do not believe that the "laissez faire, laissez aller, theory," and the unadulterated political theories of Manchester, such as "let each one do what he chooses, and fare as he will," or "who is not strong enough to stand, let him be crushed," or "he who has will receive more, and he who has not from him let us take," can be practised in any State, least of all in a monarchical State, governed by the father of his country. On the contrary, I believe that those who shudder at the State exerting its influence for the protection of the weaker brethren, themselves intend to capitalize their strength—be it financial, rhetorical, or what not—that they may gain a following, or oppress the rest, or smooth their own way to party control. They become angry, of course, as soon as their plans are spoiled by the rising influence of the State.

The representative Mr. Richter says this legislation does not go far enough. If he will have patience, we may perhaps be able to satisfy him a little later—one should not be hasty or try to do everything at once! Such laws are not made arbitrarily out of theories and as the result of asking "what kind of law would it be wise to make now?" They are the gradual outgrowth of earlier events. The reason why we come to you today only with an accident-insurance law is because this branch of the care of the poor and the weak was especially vigorous even before I seriously concerned myself with such matters. Bequests, suggestions, and notes for such a bill were on file when I assumed office. According to the records this bill was needed more than any other. When I began to study it, I must confess that it did not seem to me to go far enough in theory, and that I was tempted to change the words which occur, I believe in the first paragraph, "every workingman who" and "shall be reimbursed in such and such a way," to read, "every German." There is something ideal in this change. If one thinks of it more seriously, however, and especially if one plans to include also the independent workmen, who meet with an accident at no one's behest but their own, the question of insurance is even more difficult. No two hours' speech of any representative can give us so much concern as this problem has given us: "How far is it possible to extend this law without creating at the very start an unfavorable condition, or reaching out too far and thus overreaching ourselves?" As a farmer I was tempted to ask, whether it would be possible to extend the insurance, for instance, also to the farmhands, who constitute the majority of the workingmen in our eastern provinces. I shall not give up hope that this may be possible, but there are difficulties, which for the time being have prevented us from doing this; and concerning these I wish to say a few words.

The farming industry, in so far as it has to do with machinery and elemental forces, is, of course, not excluded from the law. But the remaining great majority of the country population also comes in frequent contact with machines, although these are set in motion not by elemental forces, but by horses or fellow-laborers. Such occupations are often dangerous and unwholesome, but it is exceedingly difficult to gather statistics and percentages, and to define the necessary amount of contributions to an insurance fund. The representative Mr. Richter knows, apparently from experience, the proper percentage in every branch of human occupation, for he has quoted his figures with much assurance. I should be grateful to him if he would mention also the source of his valuable information. We have done the best we could. The preliminary drafts of the bill were based on carefully selected facts—notice please, selected facts, and not arbitrary statistics based on conjecture. If we had discovered those figures, which the quicker eye of the honorable Mr. Richter seems to have detected at a glance, and if we had believed them to be accurate, we should have gone further in this bill.

When I say that I do not give up hope that the farming industry may yet be included, I am thinking of an organization which cannot be created at one session of the Reichstag. Like the child which must be small if it is to be born at all, and which gradually assumes its proper proportions by growth, so also this organization will have to develop gradually. Eventually the various branches of industry which have insured their laborers should be formed into incorporated associations, and each association should raise among its own members the premiums needed for the proper insurance of its laborers. It should at the same time exercise supervision over its members to the extent that the dues should be as low as possible. Or, to put it differently, the personal interest of the contributing members should see to it that adequate means for the prevention of accidents are adopted. If this can be accomplished by a gradual advance based on experience, we may also hope to find, by experience, the proper percentage as regards that branch of farming which does not employ elemental forces.

Our lack of experience in these matters has also induced us to be very careful about the assessment of the necessary contributions. I certainly should not have the courage to press this bill if the expenses which it entails were to be borne exclusively by the various industries. If the assistance which the State would render—either by provincial or county associations, or directly—were to be entirely omitted, I should not dare to answer to our industries for the consequences of this law. Perhaps this can be done, and after a few years of experience we may be able to judge whether it is possible. The State contribution, therefore, may be limited at first to three years, or to whatever period you wish. But without any actual experience, without any practical test of what we are to expect, I do not dare to burden our industries with all the expenses of this government-institution, and to add to their taxes. I do not dare to place upon them the whole burden of caring for the injured factory or mill hands. The county associations used to do this, and in the future it will be done more fully and in a more dignified way by the insurers and the State.

No entirely new charges are here contemplated; the charges are merely transferred from the county associations to the State. I do not deny that the tax of him who pays and the advantages which accrue to the laborer will be increased. The increase, however, does not equal the full third which the State is to bear, but only the difference between what at present the county associations are obliged to do for the injured workingmen, and what these men will receive in future. You see, it is purely a question of improving the lot of the laboring man. This difference, therefore, is the only new charge on the State, with which you have to reckon. And you will have to ask yourselves: "Is the advantage gained worth this difference,—when we aim to procure for the laborer who has been injured a better and more adequate support, and relieve him of the necessity of having to fight for his right in court, and when he will receive without delay the moderate stipend which the State decrees?" I feel like answering the question with a strong affirmative.

Our present poor laws keep the injured laboring man from starvation. According to law, at least, nobody need starve. Whether in reality this never happens I do not know. But this is not enough in order to let the men look contentedly into the future and to their own old age. The present bill intends to keep the sense of human dignity alive which even the poorest German should enjoy, if I have my way. He should feel that he is no mere eleemosynary, but that he possesses a fund which is his very own. No one shall have the right to dispose of it, or to take it from him, however poor he may be. This fund will open for him many a door, which otherwise will remain closed to him and it will secure for him better treatment in the house where he has been received, because when he leaves he can take away with him whatever contributions he has been making to the household expenses.

If you have ever personally investigated the conditions of the poor in our large cities, or of the village paupers in the country, you have been able to observe the wretched treatment which the poor occasionally receive even in the best managed communities, especially if they are physically weak or crippled. This happens in the houses of their stepmothers, or relatives of any kind, yes also in those of their nearest of kin. Knowing this, are you not obliged to confess that every healthy laboring man, who sees such things, must say to himself: "Is it not terrible that a man is thus degraded in the house which he used to inhabit as master and that his neighbor's dog is not worse off than he?" Such things do happen. What protection is there for a poor cripple, who is pushed into a corner, and is not given enough to eat? There is none. But if he has as little as 100 or 200 marks of his own, the people will think twice before they oppress him. We have been in a position to observe this in the case of the military invalids. Although only five or six dollars are paid every month, this actual cash amounts to something in the household where the poor are boarded, and the thrifty housewife is careful not to offend or to lose the boarder who pays cash.

I, therefore, assure you that we felt the need of insisting by this law on a treatment of the poor which should be worthy of humanity. Next year I shall be able fully to satisfy Mr. Richter in regard to the amount and the extent of attention which the State will give to a better and more adequate care of all the unemployed. This will come as a natural consequence, whether or no the present bill is passed. Today this bill is a test, as it were. We are sounding to see how deep the waters are, financially, into which we are asking the State and the country to enter. You cannot guard yourselves against such problems by delivering elegant and sonorous speeches, in which you recommend the improvement of our laws of liability, without in the least indicating how this can be done. In this way you cannot settle these questions, for you are acting like the ostrich, who hides his head lest he see his danger. The Government has seen its duty and is facing, calmly and without fear, the dangers which we heard described here a few days ago most eloquently and of which we were given convincing proofs.

We should, however, also remove, as much as possible, the causes which are used to excite the people, and which alone render them susceptible to criminal doctrines. It is immaterial to me whether or no you will call this Socialism. If you call it Socialism, you must have the remarkable wish of placing the Imperial Government, in so far as this bill of the allied governments is concerned, in the range of the very critique which Mr. von Puttkamer passed here on the endeavors of the Socialists. It would then almost seem that with this bill only a very small distance separated us from the murderous band of Hasselmann, the incendiary writings of Most, and the revolutionary conspiracies of the Congress of Wyden; and that even this distance would soon disappear. Well, gentlemen, this is, of course, the very opposite of true. Those who fight with such oratorical and meaningless niceties are counting on the many meanings of the word "socialism." As a result of the kind of programs which the Socialists have issued, this term is, in our public opinion today, almost synonymous with "criminal." If the government endeavors to treat the injured workingmen better in the future, and especially more becomingly, and not to offer to their as yet vigorous brethren the spectacle, as it were, of an old man on the dump heap slowly starving to death, this cannot be called socialistic in the sense in which that murderous band was painted to us the other day. People are playing a cheap game with the shadow on the wall when they call our endeavors socialistic.