The Kaiser

by Virginia Cowles

  Nevertheless, Bismarck’s hands were firmly on the helm. Once he had said to a friend: “I will tell you the secret of politics: friendship with Russia.” This was the basis of his policy. A year before William came to the throne the Chancellor had signed an alliance with Russia which he regarded as a master-stroke. As usual it was secret, so secret that he would not even tell the new Kaiser about it. The Czar had refused to renew the Three Emperors Alliance in 1887 because of Austria’s intrigues in the Balkans. Instead he had offered to sign a treaty with Germany alone. This caused Bismarck a brief moment of embarrassment because of his secret treaty with Austria;[92] but he decided that frankness was the best policy, pulled out the document and showed it to the Russian Ambassador, apologising but saying that it had been forced upon him by Russia’s belligerent attitude at the time; and now it must be taken into consideration in drafting a Russo-German agreement.

  The Ambassador did not take umbrage and a treaty was drawn up stating that if either Germany or Russia found themselves at war with a third power the other would preserve a benevolent neutrality. This provision would not apply if Russia attacked Austria (which allowed Bismarck to honour his Austrian treaty) or if Germany attacked France. Since Bismarck had no intention of attacking France, he was more than satisfied, for the treaty meant that if France — still crying revenge for Bismarck’s seizure of Alsace-Lorraine in 1870 — attacked Germany (a much more likely contingency) Russia would be obliged to remain neutral. And this was not all. To make sure that Russia did not succumb to French blandishments in other ways, he agreed to support the Czar diplomatically in the latter’s efforts to gain control of the Turkish Straits — the “historic mission” of which Russia always dreamed, and which had been denied her by the Berlin Treaty of 1878.

  From every angle Bismarck regarded his new treaty as a diplomatic triumph. Not only would it prevent Russia from forming an alliance with France, but it would enable Bismarck, by virtue of having treaties with both Austria and Russia, to exert pressure on each and prevent them from coming to blows in the Balkans. Bismarck called his alliance the “Reinsurance Treaty,” for he seemed to have insured himself against almost every contingency.

  However, Bismarck’s friendly attitude towards Russia was exactly what his political opponents objected to. Although Prussia had been on close terms with Russia ever since the days of Napoleon, the German people did not like the Russians. Time and again in recent years they had strained against this unwelcome bond of amity and ached to give their support to German-speaking Austria. In 1889 Austria was pressing Germany to undertake joint military action against Russia and many of William II’s intimates, including Count Waldersee, were itching to oblige. Even Baron Holstein felt that at least Germany should make it clear that Austrian ambitions were nearer to her heart than those of Russia. Bismarck scoffed at his critics for they had missed the essence of his handiwork; and in 1888 published the terms of the German-Austrian Alliance to stress the fact that the treaty was purely defensive, not otherwise.

  Bismarck’s opponents did not dare to attack him outright on foreign policy; he was too much respected for them to risk a challenge, so they fastened on his old age. It is surprising that he did not see how his long absences from Berlin would play into their hands; or even understand how unpopular he was. Quite apart from political differences, many members of the hierarchy felt that they had suffered his tyrannies long enough and were anxious to see him go. There were other reasons as well; Holstein wanted more power at the Foreign Office and Waldersee, now Chief of Staff, even saw himself stepping into Bismarck’s shoes. “The Chancellor is showing signs of age,” he wrote in October 1888. “He contradicts himself oftener than he used to do and repeats orders given a few days before. This makes co-operation with him more and more difficult…” Moltke, the retiring Chief of Staff, lashed out even more bitterly. “He has intimidated nearly everyone, so that none dares to express an independent opinion. He wants to be master all round, and is no longer fit to be so. He is Foreign Minister and interferes with every one of the Home Ministers, paying no attention to the Chief’s views; he is Prussian Prime Minister and Minister of Commerce, and regards the various Heads of Departments as his subjects; added to which he sits tight at Friedrichsruh, and is difficult to get at… All complain of insufficient instructions, of having no real power of decision, and more particularly too of the Chancellor’s publicity.”[93]

  Gradually Baron Holstein became the subterranean leader of the anti-Bismarck campaign. Brilliantly he played on the dissatisfaction and ambitions of those close to the Kaiser, feeding them with information designed to show that the old man was losing his grip in foreign affairs. “Our policy,” he wrote in his diary, “with its criss-cross of commitments — resembles the tangle of lines at a big railway station. The chief pointsman thinks he can clock everything into its proper place and hopes particularly that the greater the confusion the more indispensable he is.” Count von Waldersee was only too eager to repeat these criticisms to the Kaiser, and gleefully took note of the Sovereign’s ruthless nature. “Perhaps he is not endowed with heart to an excessive degree but just that is an excellent thing. He has a will of his own and is inclined to rule by himself.” The Count encouraged this inclination by whispering in William’s ear that if Frederick the Great had retained a man of Bismarck’s stature he would not have been “the Great.” William’s egotism proved fertile ground for these potent seeds. Although as a prince he had revered the Chancellor, now that he was Kaiser he did not find it amusing to be dwarfed by his celebrated minister. The name of Bismarck reverberated through Europe, and had become synonymous with the name of Germany, while the Hohenzollerns, he felt, were scarcely mentioned. He began to writhe when he heard people praising Bismarck for the unification of Germany; for had not the nation sprung into being under the rule of his grandfather, William I? Bismarck deliberately had snatched the credit to the detriment of the Sovereign. As jealousy took possession of his heart, he convinced himself that the Chancellor no longer was his servant but his rival; and that it was imperative for the dignity of his dynasty to show the world that the Hohenzollerns, and not the Bismarcks, ruled Germany.

  Even during the honeymoon period, Bismarck began to have trouble with the young Emperor. For one thing the old man did not find William’s family rows nearly so amusing now that they had international repercussions. A few months after the accession he provoked an incident which caused Bismarck a good deal of explaining. The Prince of Wales wrote to his nephew that he was going to Vienna to visit the Emperor Franz Joseph and hoped that he might see him there. But William had other ideas. He was determined to show the world that he was not under the thumb of his English relations as his father had been; furthermore, he was still annoyed by the Prince’s remarks at his father’s funeral. So he waited until his uncle had arrived in Vienna, then telegraphed to Franz Joseph, announcing his own imminent arrival and stipulating that since he was coming to discuss “affairs of state” it would not do to have other royalties present. Poor Franz Joseph was placed in a terrible dilemma. He could not afford to offend the Kaiser at this particular juncture, for Austria was trying to persuade Germany to give up her policy of friendship with Russia and come down squarely on the Austrian side. The situation was explained to the British Ambassador who had the unpleasant task of relaying it to the Prince of Wales. Edward was amazed and indignant but gallantly offered to relieve the Emperor’s embarrassment by retreating to Rumania until his nephew’s visit was over. William made matters even worse by laughing about what he had done, and boasting to his Viennese friends that he preferred his “uncle’s room to his company.” These remarks were repeated to Edward when he returned.

  Needless to say, the incident caused a storm. Queen Victoria took up the cudgels on her son’s behalf and demanded an explanation from Berlin. William surprised everybody by lying his way out and denying all knowledge of the affair. How could the British Ambassador have got hold of the idea that he did not wish to see
his uncle? This placed the blame squarely on Bismarck who finally wrote to Lord Salisbury explaining that the Czar of Russia might have been jealous if the Prince had been present at a meeting between the Kaiser and Franz Joseph; furthermore, the Prince had an unfortunate habit of treating William like a nephew rather than an Emperor. This was too much for Victoria. She sent a scorching reply to Salisbury pointing out that the Czar was the Prince’s brother-in-law and could hardly take exception to his presence at a social gathering. As for the Prince “not treating his nephew as Emperor,” she continued, “this really is too vulgar and too absurd, as well as untrue, almost to be believed. We have always been very intimate with our grandson and nephew, and to pretend that he is to be treated in private as well as in public as ‘his Imperial Majesty’ is perfect madness! He has been treated just as we should have treated his beloved father and even grandfather… If he has such notions he had better never come here… As regards the political relations of the two Governments, the Queen quite agrees that that should not be affected (if possible) by these miserable personal quarrels; but the Queen fears that, with such a hot-headed, conceited, and wrong-headed young man, devoid of all feeling, this may at ANY moment become impossible…”[94] The affair seemed to have reached an impasse, for the Prince said he would not meet the Kaiser until he apologised and the Kaiser said he could not apologise for what he had not done. However, Major-General Ellis, the Prince’s equerry, inadvertently broke the tension: “No English gentleman would behave like either Emperor W. to his uncle or like Bismarck father and son. But we must not forget that they happen none of them to be English gentlemen and we must take them as we find them — pure Prussians. Every German and Austrian knows what that means…”[95] Viewed from this perspective the Prince found himself able not to forgive but to try and forget. So when the Kaiser had the effrontery to propose himself for the Cowes Regatta in 1889, he agreed to meet him; and the Queen, urged by Lord Salisbury to restore harmonious relations, decided to try and induce more civil behaviour by giving him a magnificent reception. She arranged a Naval Review in his honour and made him an Admiral of the Fleet. “Fancy wearing the same uniform as St. Vincent and Nelson,” he wrote jubilantly to Sir Edward Malet. “It is enough to make me quite giddy…” Although he arrived in England in his most amiable mood, disquieting rumours from Berlin claimed that he was already talking about building a rival fleet of his own; The Times newspaper expressed doubts on the wisdom of allowing him so free a study of British naval organization. “I am now able,” William wrote to the Queen, thanking her for her hospitality, “to take an interest in your fleet as though it were my own, and with keenest sympathy shall I watch every phase of its further development…”[96]

  The clash between William and his Iron Chancellor came in January 1890. The only person taken by surprise was Prince Bismarck. Indeed when Czar Alexander ÜI had visited the capital three months earlier, he had asked the Prince point-blank: “Do you expect to remain Chancellor?” The old man had bristled with indignation and replied that he would remain at his post until he died. His first intimation of trouble came when the Kaiser called a Crown Council without consulting him, and even refused to reveal the agenda. No king had behaved in such a high-handed fashion for thirty years.

  Apart from Sovereign and Chancellor, eight ministers gathered around the green baize table. William opened the session by announcing that he had summoned the meeting on the anniversary of Frederick the Great’s birthday, as he had momentous proposals to put forward in the field of labour legislation. The time had come to mitigate the anti-Socialist laws, and try and remedy some of the grievances of the working man. This was the only way the dangerous Social Democrats vote could be stemmed. He read out his list: shorter working hours, no child labour, no Sunday work. When he finished he turned to the Chancellor and asked for his opinion. Bismarck was not in the best of moods. He was chagrined at the scant respect being shown him; never had he taken second place at a Crown Council. Furthermore, he knew who had inspired the Kaiser’s ideas: that nincompoop George Hintzpeter. Not that Bismarck was against social reform as such. During 1883 and 1884 he himself had introduced the first comprehensive social insurance scheme in history; and only the preceding year, in 1889, had rounded it off with contributory old-age pensions.

  But now Bismarck had other plans. He was secretly determined to abolish universal suffrage and perhaps even do away with the Reichstag. His plan was to introduce harsh new anti-Socialist laws which would produce a wave of anarchy and give the Emperor the excuse to declare a state of siege. This would mean that the army automatically would take control of the country under the command of the Sovereign. During the interval of military dictatorship Bismarck would re-design the Constitution, and sweep away all semblance of parliamentary institutions. That was his strategy and he did not want it disturbed. So he answered the Kaiser’s arguments with firmness and irony. Such liberal legislation as the Sovereign proposed, he asserted firmly, would not stem Social Democracy but give it a new impetus. “If Your Majesty attaches no weight to my counsels” he threatened, “I do not think I can remain in my place.”

  There was a painful silence; but the Kaiser did not try and placate him as his grandfather would have done. “That puts me in a dilemma,” he said, looking round the table. “I beg these gentlemen for their opinion.” The gentlemen dropped their eyes and fumbled with their papers. Although many of them agreed with the Sovereign, they were too frightened of Bismarck to oppose him. All owed their positions to him, all were acquainted with his vindictiveness; if he won the battle with the Emperor, woe to those who had crossed him. William had no choice but to adjourn the meeting. He shook hands with Bismarck and smiled, but inwardly he was smouldering. He waylaid the Minister of War in the corridor and said angrily: “Why did you leave me in the lurch? You, every one of you, looked as though you had been flogged! What had he said to you beforehand?”

  Now it was the Ministers’ turn to be in a dilemma. Who was going to triumph, Emperor or Chancellor? Their only concern was to place themselves on the winning side. There was no question where the ultimate power lay; the Emperor could demand Bismarck’s portfolio, whereas Bismarck could not demand the Emperor’s crown. But would the Emperor really assert himself? After a painful struggle, the ministers decided to back William. At the Crown Council a week later Prince Bismarck found that the wind had changed, the whole table opposed him. Triumphantly William presented a draft of his social reforms, expressing the noble but doubtful sentiment that he wished to be known as le roi des gueux, protector of the poor. Bismarck refused his counter-signature, and the bill went forward in the Sovereign’s name only — an event that had not occurred for thirty years.

  This time Bismarck left in a rage. He castigated the ministers as cowardly and treacherous. Yet the truth was that they were creatures of his own making. “How utterly corrupting Bismarck’s influence has been on the political life of Germany,” the Empress Frederick had written in 1888. “It has made Berlin almost intolerable to live in, if one is not his abject slave!! His party, his followers and admirers are fifty times worse than he is…”[97] However, Bismarck did not feel that the game was lost, for the elections were still to come. They were held on February 20th and reached his highest expectations. The National Liberals and the Bismarckian conservatives each lost over fifty per cent of their seats while the socialists, the radicals, and the Catholic centre — all opposed to Bismarck — ended with a total of nearly two-thirds of the seats. Indeed, the socialists polled more votes than any other single party although, because of the voting system, they did not receive a proportionate number of seats.

  Gleefully Bismarck met a rather disconsolate Emperor and outlined his plans for a coup d'etat. There would be no new anti-Socialist law, or for that matter not even a new army law, with such a Reichstag — or any Reichstag elected by universal suffrage. Therefore the Reich should be dissolved and the constitution rewritten. William was impressed, grasped Bismarck’s hand and exclaimed:
“No surrender.” But he soon changed his mind. What he wanted most of all was to be his own master, and if he fell in with Bismarck’s scheme the reverse would happen — the old man would be more powerful than ever. So on March 4th he turned down the Chancellor’s scheme, saying that he did not wish to mar his reign with bloodshed. The ministers backed William, and this time Bismarck departed, not only angry but disturbed. It was impossible to influence the Emperor when ministers encouraged him and backed him up. This would have to be stopped; so he whipped out an Order of 1852 forbidding ministers to instruct or advise the Crown unless the Prime Minister was present.

  Matters were approaching a climax. Baron Holstein attempted to induce Prince Bismarck, through the offices of Count von Kessel, a relation of the family, to modify his attitude. Not that Holstein had decided to support Bismarck. On the contrary, this was the way he worked; moving on one front but always protecting himself on another. Although he had been providing Count von Waldersee with information for months, he felt it wise to appear as a conciliator in case Prince Bismarck triumphed. “I told von Kessel… where in my opinion Bismarck’s tactics were mistaken,” he wrote in his diary. “The prime mistake was Prince Bismarck’s habit of staging the public discomfiture of his opponents, particularly the Kaiser, instead of trying to win them over in private.” Von Kessel lunched with the Chancellor at the Palace, but afterwards called on Holstein and said: “It’s a waste of time. Father and son listen patiently, and then, with a rigid smile, turn down every suggestion that they should give way or behave less harshly.”[98]