Frederick the Great. A Military Life was published in 1985 by Routledge. It is a biography of Prussian king Frederick II (the Great, 1712—1786) dedicated to the military dimension of his life – not only his wars (on a tactical, operational, and strategic level), but also his activities as a military administrator and organizer.
Friedrich was published in 2004. Richard Sivél’s first published board game is a highly abstracted operational treatment of the Seven Years’ War in central Europe, focusing on Prussia’s desperate struggle for survival against the overwhelming odds of the Austrian-Russian-French alliance, personified by the eponymous king (Friedrich is the German form of Frederick). Five years later, a prequel on the War of the Austrian succession was published which uses the same basic system: Maria (Richard Sivél, Histogame).
Connections & Conclusions
My first contact with Duffy’s book was via Friedrich – it is one of the books referenced in the bibliography contained in the rulebook. A good choice, as it is the first treatment of the military dimension of Frederick’s life since imperial German times (and remains the definitive work on the subject until today).
Obviously, the book is more encompassing – after all, it treats not only the Seven Years’ War, but the entire 74-year life of Frederick. Yet the chapter on the Seven Years’ War makes up almost half of the book – testament to the importance of the war for Frederick (whom it turned from an energetic man in his prime into a hollowed out, aged king who had lost most of his pleasures along with many personal friends). The toll the war took on Frederick is showcased in many anecdotes both in the book and in the “small events” in the game.
Glum times for Frederick! Other event cards show him as energetic and decisive, but this one embodies his worst impulses.
Frederick represents a watershed in history. On the one hand, he expanded and modernized the Prussian bureaucracy which is so symbolic for the modern, often impersonal state. On the other, he was a roi-connétable, a king-warlord, one of the last monarchs to personally lead his troops into battle – those after him who did so had usually used their military success to also take political power which was then based on their continued martial prowess (like Napoleon). Yet in an age when the kings of Britain, France, or Russia remained at court and sent their generals to fight whichever war needed fighting, Frederick rode at the head of his main army, entrusting detachments to his generals only because he could not be everywhere at once.
And Frederick did his best to be everywhere. One of the most striking characteristics of Frederick’s campaigns is his masterful use of the interior lines, on which he performed sweeping forced marches from one theater of the war to another. The most impressive example is found late in the campaign of 1757: After Frederick’s offensive in Bohemia had failed, and France’s victory over the Hanoverian army in northwestern Germany opened the way for a French invasion of Prussia. Frederick marched his army to western Saxony, where he beat a combined French/Imperial army at Roßbach on November 5. The Austrians had used the opportunity to invade Silesia which had only been held by secondary Prussian detachments and were in the possession of almost the entire province… until Frederick’s army showed up, having marched 400 kilometers in a month, and expelled the Austrians from Silesia at Leuthen, the site of his greatest tactical victory.
Frederick’s forced march from Roßbach (battle on November 5, 1757) to Leuthen (December 5, 1757) on the Friedrich map.
These sweeping operational and tactical maneuvers are detailed by around 50 maps in Duffy’s book. Whoever is interested in the wars of Frederick will pore over them for a long time during the read and probably flick back and forth between the map section and the text to follow a battle description. While Friedrich prizes maneuver, it has to scale down the distances covered – the march from Roßbach to Leuthen would take five turns on the map (an entire game typically takes around 20 turns).
Operational map of the forced march from Roßbach to Leuthen (top) and tactical map of the battle of Roßbach (bottom right) in Frederick the Great. A Military Life. I’d love to say the book is in this slightly banged up condition because I read it so often, but the unromantic fact is that I bought it used at a library sale (at the bargain price of four bucks).
Thus, there is a certain disconnect between general Friedrich [the pieces are all named in the German fashion] moving on the map and the player role of Frederick: The general Friedrich is much less important than the historical Frederick-the-general. His piece starts in Saxony, which makes it likely that he will only ever do battle with Austria and their minor ally, the Imperial Army, but never venture far enough to fight against France or even Russia and its ally Sweden. If he remains in Saxony and Prussia elects to focus its defense against Austria in Silesia, Frederick might command only a small detachment, avoiding battle while pinning down Austrian forces and taking unglamorous retreats if he is engaged.
Friedrich (Frederick) is keeping Karl von Lothringen (Charles Alexander of Lorraine) busy in Saxony while the main forces of Prussia and Austria, stacked to impressive height, face off in Silesia.
The player role of Frederick, however, oversees the entirety of the Prussian war effort (as well as that of Prussia’s minor ally Hanover, ruled in personal union by the king of Britain). The player has control over the maneuver of their generals of which Frederick could only have dreamt: News of a victory or defeat in East Prussia would have reached his army camp in Bohemia only weeks after the event, whereas in Friedrich the player can position the general in charge of defending East Prussia exactly where they want and have him surrender, retreat, or fight for his life according to the overall strategic plan.
Maximilian Ulysses von Browne has moved boldly in the first turn… and might face Friedrich/Frederick’s wrath (and superior power) in the second.
Nonetheless, the game is very effective at conveying Friedrich’s psychological state: In the early game, the player might be elated by their power and success. As Frederick moves and draws cards first in the round, an aggressive player can attack their foes with overwhelming force – for example, a second-round attack on Austria means that Prussia has drawn its seven cards per round twice already (so, fourteen in total), whereas Austria has only drawn its five cards per turn once. This corresponds with the quality advantage of the Prussian troops early in the war which Duffy notes frequently. Yet Duffy also argues that this advantage was lost by the heavy casualties the Prussian army endured in 1757 and would never be regained. (Duffy contends that Frederick inherited the finest military force in Europe upon his accession to the throne, but left his own successor a mediocre army – this long-term criticism of Frederick is, of course, beyond the scope of the game.)
Correspondingly, the Frederick player will soon find that the time to play defense has come (if it hasn’t been from the beginning of the game). And as their once-impressive card hand dwindles under the repeated attacks from all foes, elation will give way to gloom. Whenever an anecdote is read as the end-of-round event, showing the historical Frederick at turns defiant, melancholy, or self-pitying, the Frederick player will be able to relate – as they will as Austria’s allies, one after another, falter and peace is made. Frederick might have won the game, but it will surely have taken a toll.
Prussia barely holds on to the last Austrian and Russian objectives… let’s hope for Frederick that the Tsarina dies soon!
In that sense, Frederick the Great. A Military Life and Friedrich are a perfect match – the analytic and the immersive, the intellectual and the emotional. Give both a try!
Frederick the Great. A Military Life was published in 1985 by Routledge. It is a biography of Prussian king Frederick II (the Great, 1712—1786) dedicated to the military dimension of his life – not only his wars (on a tactical, operational, and strategic level), but also his activities as a military administrator and organizer.
Friedrich was published in 2004. Richard Sivél’s first published board game is a highly abstracted operational treatment of the Seven Years’ War in central Europe, focusing on Prussia’s desperate struggle for survival against the overwhelming odds of the Austrian-Russian-French alliance, personified by the eponymous king (Friedrich is the German form of Frederick). Five years later, a prequel on the War of the Austrian succession was published which uses the same basic system: Maria (Richard Sivél, Histogame).
Connections & Conclusions
My first contact with Duffy’s book was via Friedrich – it is one of the books referenced in the bibliography contained in the rulebook. A good choice, as it is the first treatment of the military dimension of Frederick’s life since imperial German times (and remains the definitive work on the subject until today).
Obviously, the book is more encompassing – after all, it treats not only the Seven Years’ War, but the entire 74-year life of Frederick. Yet the chapter on the Seven Years’ War makes up almost half of the book – testament to the importance of the war for Frederick (whom it turned from an energetic man in his prime into a hollowed out, aged king who had lost most of his pleasures along with many personal friends). The toll the war took on Frederick is showcased in many anecdotes both in the book and in the “small events” in the game.
Glum times for Frederick! Other event cards show him as energetic and decisive, but this one embodies his worst impulses.
Frederick represents a watershed in history. On the one hand, he expanded and modernized the Prussian bureaucracy which is so symbolic for the modern, often impersonal state. On the other, he was a roi-connétable, a king-warlord, one of the last monarchs to personally lead his troops into battle – those after him who did so had usually used their military success to also take political power which was then based on their continued martial prowess (like Napoleon). Yet in an age when the kings of Britain, France, or Russia remained at court and sent their generals to fight whichever war needed fighting, Frederick rode at the head of his main army, entrusting detachments to his generals only because he could not be everywhere at once.
And Frederick did his best to be everywhere. One of the most striking characteristics of Frederick’s campaigns is his masterful use of the interior lines, on which he performed sweeping forced marches from one theater of the war to another. The most impressive example is found late in the campaign of 1757: After Frederick’s offensive in Bohemia had failed, and France’s victory over the Hanoverian army in northwestern Germany opened the way for a French invasion of Prussia. Frederick marched his army to western Saxony, where he beat a combined French/Imperial army at Roßbach on November 5. The Austrians had used the opportunity to invade Silesia which had only been held by secondary Prussian detachments and were in the possession of almost the entire province… until Frederick’s army showed up, having marched 400 kilometers in a month, and expelled the Austrians from Silesia at Leuthen, the site of his greatest tactical victory.
Frederick’s forced march from Roßbach (battle on November 5, 1757) to Leuthen (December 5, 1757) on the Friedrich map.
These sweeping operational and tactical maneuvers are detailed by around 50 maps in Duffy’s book. Whoever is interested in the wars of Frederick will pore over them for a long time during the read and probably flick back and forth between the map section and the text to follow a battle description. While Friedrich prizes maneuver, it has to scale down the distances covered – the march from Roßbach to Leuthen would take five turns on the map (an entire game typically takes around 20 turns).
Operational map of the forced march from Roßbach to Leuthen (top) and tactical map of the battle of Roßbach (bottom right) in Frederick the Great. A Military Life. I’d love to say the book is in this slightly banged up condition because I read it so often, but the unromantic fact is that I bought it used at a library sale (at the bargain price of four bucks).
Thus, there is a certain disconnect between general Friedrich [the pieces are all named in the German fashion] moving on the map and the player role of Frederick: The general Friedrich is much less important than the historical Frederick-the-general. His piece starts in Saxony, which makes it likely that he will only ever do battle with Austria and their minor ally, the Imperial Army, but never venture far enough to fight against France or even Russia and its ally Sweden. If he remains in Saxony and Prussia elects to focus its defense against Austria in Silesia, Frederick might command only a small detachment, avoiding battle while pinning down Austrian forces and taking unglamorous retreats if he is engaged.
Friedrich (Frederick) is keeping Karl von Lothringen (Charles Alexander of Lorraine) busy in Saxony while the main forces of Prussia and Austria, stacked to impressive height, face off in Silesia.
The player role of Frederick, however, oversees the entirety of the Prussian war effort (as well as that of Prussia’s minor ally Hanover, ruled in personal union by the king of Britain). The player has control over the maneuver of their generals of which Frederick could only have dreamt: News of a victory or defeat in East Prussia would have reached his army camp in Bohemia only weeks after the event, whereas in Friedrich the player can position the general in charge of defending East Prussia exactly where they want and have him surrender, retreat, or fight for his life according to the overall strategic plan.
Maximilian Ulysses von Browne has moved boldly in the first turn… and might face Friedrich/Frederick’s wrath (and superior power) in the second.
Nonetheless, the game is very effective at conveying Friedrich’s psychological state: In the early game, the player might be elated by their power and success. As Frederick moves and draws cards first in the round, an aggressive player can attack their foes with overwhelming force – for example, a second-round attack on Austria means that Prussia has drawn its seven cards per round twice already (so, fourteen in total), whereas Austria has only drawn its five cards per turn once. This corresponds with the quality advantage of the Prussian troops early in the war which Duffy notes frequently. Yet Duffy also argues that this advantage was lost by the heavy casualties the Prussian army endured in 1757 and would never be regained. (Duffy contends that Frederick inherited the finest military force in Europe upon his accession to the throne, but left his own successor a mediocre army – this long-term criticism of Frederick is, of course, beyond the scope of the game.)
Correspondingly, the Frederick player will soon find that the time to play defense has come (if it hasn’t been from the beginning of the game). And as their once-impressive card hand dwindles under the repeated attacks from all foes, elation will give way to gloom. Whenever an anecdote is read as the end-of-round event, showing the historical Frederick at turns defiant, melancholy, or self-pitying, the Frederick player will be able to relate – as they will as Austria’s allies, one after another, falter and peace is made. Frederick might have won the game, but it will surely have taken a toll.
Prussia barely holds on to the last Austrian and Russian objectives… let’s hope for Frederick that the Tsarina dies soon!
In that sense, Frederick the Great. A Military Life and Friedrich are a perfect match – the analytic and the immersive, the intellectual and the emotional. Give both a try!
Before the Treaty of Alliance and the French declaration of war on Britain, France had supported the American Patriots materially. Now that France was a full belligerent, fighting forces would follow – first, the French fleet.
Admiral d’Estaing’s event card in Liberty or Death (Harold Buchanan, GMT Games) emphasizes the difficulties and opportunities of coordinating far-reaching naval operations. From the Vassal module.
A naval force under Admiral Charles Henri Hector d’Estaing, carrying a few thousand French land forces, was dispatched to North America in summer 1778. They embarked on an ambitious combined-force scheme together with the Continental Army to take Newport from the British. American-French cooperation (as well as army-navy cooperation) proved difficult, and the operation had to be aborted. In one of the more dubious decisions of the war, the British abandoned Newport, one of the finest natural harbors in New England, voluntarily soon after.
As joint operations had not yielded success, the American and British forces would usually operate separately for the next two years. That meant that the Americans continued to bear the brunt of the struggle for North America. The French navy and army, however, were crucial in tying down British forces in the by now global struggle: British and French forces fought over the economically crucial “sugar islands” of the Caribbean. A French armada, strengthened by Spain which had recently entered the war, threatened to invade Britain itself in 1779. Even in far away India, British forces were challenged by the French and their local allies. Players of Imperial Struggle (Ananda Gupta/Jason Matthews, GMT Games) will recognize these as the four regions in which Britain and France fight for supremacy – with victory going to the player who can balance their interests in the four regions best, taking losses where they must while making bigger gains elsewhere.
The board of Imperial Struggle depicts a world full of opportunities for conquest, alliance, and trade in North America, Europe, the Caribbean, and India. In this particular game, the British have been expelled from North America, but done well in India.
The American Patriots had none of this strategic depth. If they were defeated North America, their cause would be lost. And even with French support, it did not seem like they could do more than brace themselves against the military and financial superiority of Britain… if so much. The harsh winter of 1779-80 decimated the Continental Army. Difficulties in paying the troops resulted in the mutiny of the Pennsylvania and New Jersey Line regiments. The situation seemed so dire that Benedict Arnold, one of the most distinguished American commanders, betrayed the American cause (but failed to deliver the fort of West Point to Britain), serving in the British army for the remainder of the war.
The Benedict Arnold event in Washington’s War (Mark Herman, GMT Games) does not only give a die roll modifier in a battle to Britain, but also removes the (American) leader Arnold from the board. Experienced American players know this, of course, and will not entrust Arnold with important missions… thus, his invasion of Canada is unlikely to happen in the game. An interesting meditation on how much historical hindsight influences gameplay.
The Southern Strategy
Part of the American woes was the new British focus. As New England was lost to Britain, and too full of rebels to be retaken, the British turned their attention to the southern colonies which the believed to be populated by many British loyalists.
First, they advanced from Florida (supported by sea) into Georgia and took Savannah on December 29, 1778. A combined American-French land-sea operation failed to retake the city in June 1779. After this second joint operations failure, the French fleet relocated to the Caribbean. British forces under Charles Cornwallis laid siege to Charleston, South Carolina, the following March.
Lincoln never stood a chance. From the Rally the Troops! implementation of Washington’s War.
Benjamin Lincoln, who had commanded the American troops in the unsuccessful counter-offensive at Savannah, was put under enormous political pressure not to let Charleston, one of the most important cities in the south, fall into British hands. Retreat was thus impossible. Yet the defense of the city against superior British forces was doomed. Lincoln surrendered in May 1780.
Cornwallis’s next victim. From the Rally the Troops! implementation of Washington’s War.
Cornwallis also beat the new American commander in the south, Horatio Gates, at Camden (and thus cut Gates, the hero of Saratoga, back to size again). As the British general was poised to invade North Carolina, Washington dispatched Nathanael Greene to take command in the south.
Greene’s approach aimed to elude a decisive engagement. Contrary to British assumptions, the south was not rife with British loyalists. The crown was only supported where Britain could enforce loyalty – on the coasts, and wherever Cornwallis’s army was at the moment. And Cornwallis could not be everywhere. Small American forces under guerilla leaders (like “The Gamecock” Thomas Sumter and Francis Marion, on whom the movie The Patriot is based) chipped away at British forces and support. While Cornwallis beat Greene at Guilford Court House and Eutaw Springs in early 1781, he could not reverse the south’s affiliation to the Patriot cause.
Yorktown
Cornwallis lost patience with the indecisive campaign against Greene’s Fabian strategy. In 1781, he boldly struck into Virginia. His supply was to come from sea via the port of Yorktown on Chesapeake Bay. If Virginia, the largest and most populous southern colony was taken and thus the south cut off from the north, Greene would have to surrender – or so Cornwallis thought. Cornwallis’s good strategy rating in Washington’s War makes it likely that the British player will let him pursue similarly active campaigns… and hopes not to get caught by superior force.
Cornwallis’s plan was risky. Virginia was much closer to the American and French main forces than the Carolinas. The French commander Jean-Baptiste Donatien de Vimeur, comte de Rochambeau, urged George Washington to confront Cornwallis. And thus a third joint operation began: Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette, a French volunteer in the Continental army, marched American and French forces to Virginia.
Cornwallis responded in the typical British manner: He fortified Yorktown and confidently relied on British naval superiority to keep his options open. That confidence was shaken when the French instead of the British navy showed up in Chesapeake Bay. The British sent a fleet of their own, but the resulting naval battle of Chesapeake Bay failed to expel the French fleet (September 5, 1781).
Between a rock and a hard place: Cornwallis was trapped by the American-French army and the French navy. From the Rally the Troops! implementation of Washington’s War.
Washington and Rochambeau took command of the combined army and invested Yorktown. As Cornwallis had failed to tenaciously defend the outer defenses, assuming he would be evacuated by the Royal Navy, the sieging forces advanced quickly. Cut off from supplies and under bombardment from the allied artillery, Cornwallis surrendered on October 17, 1781. His entire force of almost 8,000 was captured (with another 156 dead). French and American total casualties (dead and wounded) were barely over 200.
Peace
The war in the colonies had been unpopular in Britain for some years. Parliament was unwilling to expend more money on it, and thus the British forces deployed had never again reached their peak strength from 1776. With one of the two main British forces in the colonies lost, so was the parliamentary base for the government. When the Whig opposition’s motion to end the war in North America carried a majority, Prime Minister Frederick North resigned in March 1782. “North’s Government Falls” is the end of a game of Washington’s War, and can happen anytime between 1779 and 1783 (provided the event is face-up in the respective year).
North’s successors had to make peace with four separate enemies – the United States, France, Spain, and the Netherlands. The American negotiators Benjamin Franklin and John Jay proved most skillful in this complicated multi-sided diplomacy. They secured diplomatic recognition for the United States as well as the western domain all the way to the Mississippi and important fishing rights in the Atlantic. The Peace of Paris was signed on September 3, 1783.
The king of France had little time to enjoy his triumph. The war expenses incurred in the American Revolutionary War contributed to the financial crisis which resulted in the French Revolution (whose protagonists were in turn inspired by the American ideas of liberalism and republicanism) just six years after the Peace of Paris.
Britain, on the other hand, bounced back from the setback in North America. The country’s naval, commercial, and financial strength was still intact. Britain would orchestrate the coalitions against revolutionary and Napoleonic France until the final victory at Waterloo in 1815, ushering in a century of British global dominance.
And the United States? They remained within their own hemisphere for the time being. Only occasionally drawn into conflict with their erstwhile French allies or old British enemies, the United States dealt with their westward expansion and economic development. Despite its unresolved conflict internal conflict about slavery, the American republic remained an inspiration to European liberals and democrats who strove to follow the example begun 250 years ago.
Allison, Robert J.: The American Revolution. A Very Short Introduction, Oxford University Press, New York City, NY 2015 is exactly what it says on the tin.
Higginbotham, Don: The War of American Independence. Military Policies, Attitudes, and Practice, 1763-1789, Indiana University Press, Bloomington, IN 1977 covers not only the campaigns, but also the political, social, and economic dimensions behind them.
As we have seen in the last post, Wallenstein had contrived to make many enemies. His only supporter, Emperor Ferdinand, feared to be upstaged by the seemingly all-powerful general. The news in late 1633 – Wallenstein treating with the Swedes, Wallenstein letting Thurn go free, Wallenstein not defending Regensburg and Bavaria, Wallenstein refusing to support the Spanish mission to the Netherlands – mixed with their tendentious interpretations by the Bavarian and Spanish parties at court convinced the emperor that Wallenstein planned betrayal. To forestall this, the Imperial War Council secretly decided to relieve Wallenstein of his command on December 31, 1633.
Wallenstein and his intimates did not know about the dismissal, but they sensed the shifting wind. His brother-in-law Adam Erdmann, Count Trčka, and his marshal Christian von Ilow had Wallenstein’s officers sign a statement of loyalty to their commander in his winter quarters at Plzeň on January 12. They hoped that this show of unity in the army would remind the emperor that he needed his general. The opposite was the case: Ferdinand took it as another sign of treason.
When Wallenstein had been dismissed in 1630, it had caused both the emperor and the electors immense anxiety about his possible reaction. He had taken it meekly then, but what would he do now? As the emperor and his advisors had resolved that Wallenstein was a traitor, they expected the worst – insubordination, rebellion, joining his army with the Swedes. That needed to be forestalled. A secret court found Wallenstein guilty of treason on January 24, 1634. The court reached out to three of Wallenstein’s officers which they deemed reliable – Wallenstein’s second-in-command, Matthias Gallas, the commander of the embattled left wing at Lützen, Ottavio Piccolomini, and the tenacious defender of Dessau Bridge, Johann von Aldringen. To them, they gave the delicate task of delivering Wallenstein to Vienna – dead or alive.
The three executors of the imperial sentence faced a daunting task. Wallenstein was popular with the common soldiers whose pay was guaranteed by their general, not by the emperor whose coffers were notoriously empty and whose will to pay the army notoriously limited. The officers seemed more promising, as they were honor-bound to the emperor, but they had also sworn loyalty to their commander. Gallas got in touch with those they deemed reliable and instructed them not to follow any orders from Wallenstein, Trčka, or Ilow.
By that time, Wallenstein’s health had deteriorated even more. He was barely able to leave his bed and sometimes could not even sign documents. All the while, he waited for a reply from Hans Georg von Arnim on the potential peace with the electors of Saxony and Brandenburg.
Trčka acted on Wallenstein’s behalf in the day-to-day affairs, confident in his command over the soldiers. Only deep into February did it dawn on him and Wallenstein’s other intimates that imperial agents were prising the army away from them – officer by officer, regiment by regiment.
Wallenstein in his winter quarters at Pilsen (the German spelling of Plzeň) with the three executors of the imperial will dancing around him. Cheb, to the northwest of Plzeň/Pilsen would have given Wallenstein an easy exit west in direction of the Swedish-German forces under Bernard of Weimar or north to the Elector of Saxony. From the Vassal module of Thirty Years War: Europe in Agony, 1618-1648 (David A. Fox/Michael Welker, GMT Games).
Nothing was left to Wallenstein but flight. On February 23, he and those faithful to him made away to Cheb, accompanied by a few regiments of loyal troops. They had been joined by the regiment of Colonel Walter Butler on the way and counted on the garrison of Cheb under the command of John Gordon. Both Butler and Gordon had been contacted by the three conspirators who urged them not to obey Wallenstein. For the time being, Butler and Gordon prevaricated.
As Cheb is in the northwestern corner of Bohemia, Wallenstein could easily leave Bohemia for Saxony or be joined by Swedish forces. That put time pressure on Butler and Gordon. If Wallenstein fled, they would be held responsible. If they arrested him, he would be freed again if the Swedish arrived. Thus, they resolved to murder him and his associates.
Gordon invited Trčka, Ilow, and a few more Wallenstein intimates for dinner up in Cheb’s castle on February 25th – together with Wallenstein, who declined on grounds of his constant bad health. Gordon and Butler, both present at dinner, had a group of soldiers commanded by captain Walter Devereux come in, declare for the emperor, and murder Wallenstein’s associates. With all of them dead, Devereux took his small group down to Wallenstein’s residence in the town. They found Wallenstein in bed already. As he got up, Devereux stabbed him to death.
Wallenstein’s leader counter in Cuius Regio.
Wallenstein’s death is handled in a rather detached manner in Cuius Regio (Francisco Gradaille, GMT Games, forthcoming): Like every other leader, Wallenstein has an initial and a last year of service (1625 and 1634, in his case). In the leader deployment phase before the campaigns of 1635, the player will have to remove Wallenstein. Death – be that from plague, battle, or murder – is inevitable and pre-ordained.
The Catholic player in Thirty Years War: Europe in Agony, 1618—1648 has more freedom. As we have discussed in the last two instalments of the series, Wallenstein can be dismissed and recalled in the game. And if he proves to be too influential (and comes close to the threshold at which his influence would give the Protestants a Major Victory), he can also be assassinated (and thus be removed from the game permanently). There is, however, no inevitability of Wallenstein’s death: As his influence is only raised from recruiting troops, taking cities, and successfully attacking with him, the Catholic player can just forgo those, not use Wallenstein anymore and let him live out his old age in peace. Somehow, this never occurred to the historical Ferdinand II. Implicitly, the game’s treatment of Wallenstein’s assassination posits that the active threat which Wallenstein posed in Ferdinand’s view was nothing but a fabrication of the emperor’s paranoia, and that the emperor remained firmly in command at all times.
Twilight of the Thirty Years’ War
Wallenstein had grown rich on land which had been taken from those the emperor had declared rebels. He ended up on the other side of this bargain. His estates in Bohemia and Silesia were seized (Mecklenburg was lost to the Swedes anyway). A good deal went as spoils to all the officers involved in the conspiracy against him. Gallas, Piccolomini, and Aldringen became great magnates, and those on the lower rungs of the plot did not go unrewarded either, down to an additional month’s pay for all the soldiers in the garrison of Cheb whose only contribution had been to stand by idly while Wallenstein was murdered. The rest of Wallenstein’s estates were sold by the emperor to fix some of his short-term financial problems. Wallenstein’s widow Isabelle kept nothing. Only when she pleaded mercy (instead of justice) from the emperor did she receive a small estate to live on.
Wallenstein had died when the war had already been raging for sixteen years. It would last another fourteen before peace was finally made in 1648. Any time Emperor Ferdinand II had been in a position of strength, he had not made concessions to form a lasting peace, but instead increased his demands, prompting the interventions of first Denmark, then Sweden, and finally France (shortly after Wallenstein’s death).
Ferdinand II died in 1637. At the time of peace, the new emperor Ferdinand III was mostly ruined. Protestantism survived, protected by German princes and foreign powers. Sweden controlled the Baltic Sea. Any hopes of imperial hegemony in the empire or of Habsburg hegemony in Europe were dashed. After Spain had conceded Dutch independence, it fought on against France, and lost that war, too, along with its European primacy.
Afterlife
Wallenstein remained fascinating to his contemporaries after his death, and would continue for centuries. Assessments close to his own time hewed closely to the religious beliefs of the writer: Catholics tended to see Wallenstein as a traitor (following the official account of the emperor), Protestants made him into a Machiavellian mercenary leader, often contrasted with the heroic “Lion from the North” Gustavus Adolphus.
Later treatments focused on individual aspects such as Wallenstein’s purported dependence on astrology. You will have noticed that this is the first time since our first post that astrology is mentioned – because there is no evidence that Wallenstein was more interested in it than his contemporaries, let alone that he made decisions based on horoscopes. The speculations on this issue are based in the accounts of those who bore witness against Wallenstein shortly before and after his death, taking pains to stress anything which might indicate that Wallenstein was anything but a devout Catholic. The idea of Wallenstein, the Star-Seeker, is particularly prevalent in the German mind, as playwright Friedrich Schiller dedicated a trilogy of plays to Wallenstein’s last weeks – and presents the general as an indecisive fatalist, done in by his own passivity as well as the cabals of those around him. That’s (masterful) fiction – but it hews close enough to history (Schiller had taught history at the University of Jena and even written a major book on the Thirty Years’ War) to influence anyone whose first contact with Wallenstein was through Schiller’s plays.
By the time document-based historiography had been firmly established in the 19th century, pre-established views on Wallenstein had become so solidified that historians still argued within their confines – mostly on the matter if Wallenstein had, in fact, betrayed the emperor. Slowly, the view that he had not gained ground.
Interpretations of Wallenstein in the 19th and 20th century often were inspired by current politics: Catholic German nationalists hailed Wallenstein as a proto-Greater German unifier. Czech historians like Josef Pekař adopted their compatriot as a proto-nationalist transcending the multi-national Habsburg Empire. Hellmut Diwald saw in Wallenstein the necessary authoritarian answer to overcome foreign domination of Germany (and subsequently plunged himself into New Right revisionism).
When stories of “Great Men” had decidedly fallen out of favor in academic history, Golo Mann revived the genre with his biography of Wallenstein, testing the limits of academic writing with his literary ambitions. His book dispelled some of the myths around Wallenstein and retained others.
Currently, Wallenstein’s heritage as a Bohemian, a nobleman, a (converted) Catholic, and a magnate have received more attention. History is never completed, but only enriched with more perspectives. Wallenstein’s life and its subsequent interpretations are thus also lessons in historiography.
A recent biography which succeeds at dispelling the Wallenstein myth is Mortimer, Geoff: Wallenstein. The Enigma of the Thirty Years’ War, Palgrave Macmillan, London 2010.
For an older, more encompassing biography with literary aspirations, see Mann, Golo: Wallenstein. His Life Narrated, Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, New York City, NY 1976.
On the reception of Wallenstein and his changing image from his contemporaries all the way through the 20th century, see Bahlcke, Joachim/Kampmann, Christoph: Wallensteinbilder im Widerstreit: Eine historische Symbolfigur in Geschichtsschreibung und Literatur vom 17. bis zum 20. Jahrhundert [Conflicting Conceptions of Wallenstein: A Symbolic Figure from History in Historiography and Literature from the 17th to the 20th Century], Böhlau, Cologne/Weimar/Vienna 2011 [in German].
For a short introduction to the Thirty Years’ War, see Schmidt, Georg: Der Dreißigjährige Krieg [The Thirty Years’ War], C.H. Beck, Munich 2010 [in German].
A magisterial monography on the entire war is Wilson, Peter H.: Europe’s Tragedy. A New History of the Thirty Years’ War, Penguin, London 2009.
Gustavus Adolphus, King of Sweden, had taken Germany by storm in 1631. He was allied with the heretofore neutral Protestant electors of Saxony and Brandenburg, had shattered the imperial army under Count Tilly at Breitenfeld, and was taking his winter quarters in Mainz, deep in the southwest of Germany. For 1632, he looked ready to advance along the Danube, first into Bavaria, the home of elector Maximilian, the most powerful Catholic prince in the empire (and Wallenstein’s chief rival), and then into the Habsburg core lands.
I recommend you blow up this image by clicking on it – not only to see the strategic situation in early 1632 with the main Swedish army in the electorate of Mainz in the northwest and an advance column in Franconia (northeast) and the Catholic League forces on both sides on the Danube which will flow further east into the Habsburg core lands, but also to enjoy the sheer beauty of this map! Taken from the Vassal module of Won by the Sword (Ben Hull, GMT Games).
Wallenstein had been the emperor’s man to solve his military problems for five years. It was thus an obvious choice to recall him as commander. Even Maximilian was in favor (hoping for Wallenstein to defend his electorate, which had heretofore been blissfully ignorant of war as a first-hand experience). Emperor Ferdinand II was practically begging. Wallenstein agreed – but only to reorganize the army, only for three months. The emperor went along, having no other choice. And, of course, when the three months were over, Wallenstein stayed on, having his supreme authority confirmed and expanded.
We have discussed the Wallenstein rule in Thirty Years War: Europe in Agony, 1618—1648 (David A. Fox/Michael Welker, GMT Games) as far as his dismissal was concerned – when Wallenstein’s influence becomes too high, the Catholic player can avoid losing by dismissing Wallenstein which will halve his influence. Having dismissed Wallenstein, the Catholic player can recall him again for a second bout in command – this time probably shorter, as Wallenstein will have some leftover influence and will thus be closer to the influence threshold that would mean Protestant victory!
Gustavus Adolphus had not been idle while Wallenstein re-organized the army. He had split his army in several parts, taking a good deal of Catholic Germany (and distributing ecclesiastical lands to his supporters), while his main force advanced towards Bavaria. The army of the Catholic League under Maximilian and Tilly attempted to make up for their numerical inferiority with a strong defensive position behind the river Lech. Gustavus Adolphus forced the Lech in April 1632 with the double measure of a crossing south of the Catholic army and the massed use of artillery. The League army was routed. Tilly died of the wounds he had suffered in the battle. One month later, Gustavus Adolphus lodged in the Bavarian capital Munich.
The Duel with Gustavus
Maximilian beseeched Wallenstein to march for Bavaria and meet the Swedes in open battle. Yet Wallenstein’s mission concerned the entire empire, not just a single electorate. And his caution – half natural, half learned in the campaign of 1626 – led him to pursue a different course. He marched for Franconia. From there, he threatened Gustavus’s supply lines which stretched all the way to the Baltic coast, and he could quickly march to Bavaria, strike at the Swedish king’s new Saxon allies, or retreat to Bohemia, as the situation required it. When he took camp near the city of Nuremberg, one of the greatest cities of the empire, he also evoked the Protestants’ fear of another Magdeburg – more atrocities visited on a large Protestant city. Gustavus Adolphus had to turn and face Wallenstein.
The Swedish king had a battle-hardened army with him, but the difficult supply situation and the vast area which he had conquered had forced him to detach large parts of his army. Even though reinforcements arrived for him in Nuremberg, his combined force was not bigger than Wallenstein’s (strengthened by some of the Bavarian troops) who had built a fortified camp at the Alte Veste outside of Nuremberg. Gustavus, eager to fight a decisive battle and resume his attack on the Habsburg core lands, attempted to breach the defenses for several days, but was bloodily repelled by Wallenstein’s forces. The king had to withdraw. He left a garrison behind to hold Nuremberg against Wallenstein’s siege. The Swedes were not defeated, but the myth of Gustavus’s invincibility was broken.
As the Protestant army had withdrawn southwest, Maximilian feared a new invasion of Bavaria. Once more, he demanded that Wallenstein follow Gustavus to protect Bavaria. And once more, Wallenstein refused. Protect Bavaria he would, though… not by marching south, but north.
Wallenstein’s march for Saxony followed his tried-and-tested strategy of combining pressure on the supply lines with political pressure: When Wallenstein’s army showed up in Saxony, the Saxons would understand how foolish they had been to declare against the emperor. Maybe their elector John George, an imperial loyalist by inclination, could be brought back into the imperial fold. Until then, Wallenstein’s army would winter in Saxony, consuming the food and fodder which Saxon peasants had grown and harvested.
As Wallenstein had foreseen, Gustavus Adolphus followed him to protect his supply lines and his Saxon allies, arriving in November 1632 in Saxony. In Wallenstein’s mind, the campaigning season was over, and he split his army into several winter quarters – a common necessity in Cuius Regio (Francisco Gradaille, GMT Games, forthcoming) as well, as smaller towns are often unable to supply large armies in winter. Yet Gustavus was not done campaigning, kept his force concentrated, and marched on the force under Wallenstein’s command stationed around the village of Lützen.
Wallenstein & Piccolomini! Best friends forever! From the Vassal module of Cuius Regio.
Wallenstein, caught unprepared, scrambled to get reinforcements for the battle that was now upon him. He hoped that at least the cavalry of his lieutenant Gottfried Heinrich, Count of Pappenheim would arrive in time, maybe even the infantry. Until then, he took defensive positions at Lützen, obscured by the morning mist and the smoke from having set the village on fire.
The ensuing Battle of Lützen, fought on November 16, 1632, was Wallenstein’s fiercest tactical challenge. The Protestant army had a slight numerical superiority, its core formed by veterans of many battles (usually on the winning side), and it was commanded by the greatest tactical commander of the time. The initial Swedish assault shattered Wallenstein’s left. The Swedes also gained Wallenstein’s artillery battery on the left wing. Yet when the battle seemed already lost, Pappenheim arrived with his cavalry regiments and turned the tide. Pappenheim, however, was severely wounded, and most of his cavalrymen fled. Colonel Ottavio Piccolomini took some regiments from the center, and, helped by the onset of more fog, could stabilize the front.
In the meantime, Wallenstein’s right had repelled the Protestant assault on their side and were now battering the Swedish-German troops under Prince Bernard of Saxony-Weimar. Bernard called for support, and the king himself answered with a group of select cavalrymen. Gustavus Adolphus was wounded, lost touch with his forces in the fog, and thus fell into the hands of imperial soldiers who killed him and plundered his corpse. News of the death of the king spread among the Protestant ranks. They responded quite differently to Pappenheim’s forces when faced with the loss of their commander: Gustavus Adolphus had been beloved, a hero, the savior of Protestantism. The Swedish-German troops battered Wallenstein’s right wing and took his second battery. Their strength, however, was insufficient to expel the imperial forces from their defensive positions. The fighting ended when night fell. Wallenstein withdrew his army in good order.
Lützen had been no victory for Wallenstein. He had given up the battlefield and his losses were heavier than those of the Protestants. Yet Wallenstein could retake the positions lost, and he could recruit new soldiers to take the places of the fallen. Gustavus Adolphus, on the other hand, could barely be replaced. The imperial side could be content with the campaigns of 1632.
The Search for Peace
After Wallenstein’s last great operational success, the campaign against Denmark in 1627 and 1628, he had made peace with his enemy from a position of strength. His inclination now was to do the same – only peace would confirm his large acquisitions in Bohemia, Silesia, and Mecklenburg, and as he grew older and sicker, frequently bed-ridden, he meant to enjoy them. As the Swedes were nowhere near as thoroughly beaten as Denmark had been, Wallenstein started smaller with attempts to prise their Saxon allies away from them with a mix of persuasion and force: While he treated with his former marshal Hans Georg von Arnim, who, as a devout Protestant, had left imperial service for reasons of conscience after the Edict of Restitution, and now served the Elector of Saxony, Wallenstein’s new lieutenant Heinrich von Holk (another Protestant, and the former commander of the forces resisting Wallenstein at the siege of Stralsund) marauded in Saxony.
Wallenstein’s goal: To return Saxony to the imperial camp. Alas, it was not so easy… as you can see, the conditions for the “Saxony Switches Sides” event are not met, and Saxony will continue to fight alongside the Swedes in this game of Thirty Years War: Europe in Agony, 1618-1648.
The emperor had good hopes that his Saxon vassal would return into the imperial fold and commended Wallenstein for his diplomatic efforts. In the meantime, Wallenstein (and his new second-in-command Matthias Gallas, promoted after Holk had died of the plague in September 1633) also treated with the Swedes (in the person of Gustavus Adolphus’s chancellor Axel of Oxenstierna who now directed Swedish politics), yet nothing would come of that: Both sides seem to have tried to stall the other’s war efforts with diplomacy and undermine the confidence of the allies of the other. For example, the Swedes offered Wallenstein to become King of Bohemia if he allied with them and fought against the emperor – an absurd notion, as Wallenstein’s confirmation by the Protestant estates of Bohemia would have been at odds with their expropriation in 1621 from which he had acquired his Bohemian holdings.
The Swedish advances were not acknowledged by Wallenstein himself. As his health deteriorated, however, others started speaking with his voice, chiefly his brother-in-law Adam Erdmann, Count Trčka, his marshal Christian von Ilow, and the Bohemian diplomat Vilém Kinský. They hoped to bring about an alliance between Wallenstein, the Bohemian emigrants, and the foreign powers supporting them against the Habsburgs – Sweden, and possibly even France.
Both sides used their tentative diplomatic efforts and the resulting operational lull in 1633 to consolidate their forces after the exertions of the previous year. By fall, though, they were ready to strike again. Wallenstein marched to Silesia to retake the last Habsburg dominion held by the Protestants. Their commander, the Bohemian Heinrich Matthias von Thurn, surrendered in exchange for his release after the capture. Emperor Ferdinand resented that this arch-rebel who had been in the Bohemian uprising from its beginning in 1618 went unpunished.
The Swedish main army, commanded by Bernard of Weimar, struck at Regensburg and invaded Bavaria again in November. Wallenstein sent some regiments under Johann von Aldringen to support the Catholic League army, but his own army remained in Bohemia on the principle that any threat to the Habsburg core lands could be blocked as long as imperial forces held the city of Passau on the Danube. Maximilian complained bitterly to the emperor about Wallenstein’s passivity.
Emperor Ferdinand II had always been the source of Wallenstein’s power, often against the advice of his allies. Maximilian had always been suspicious of Wallenstein. The Spanish Habsburgs had had a more ambivalent stance. They had respected Wallenstein as an effective commander who spread Habsburg influence in Germany, but had resented his refusal to support their wars in the Netherlands, and, in the late 1620s, against the French in Upper Italy. In December 1633, they found themselves in a pickle: The Habsburg governess of the Netherlands, Isabella Clara Eugenia, aunt to the King of Spain, had died. With Dutch naval supremacy, they could only bring a new governor in by land, along the Spanish Road linking Upper Italy and the Netherlands – whose middle part in Germany was now in the hands of the Swedes. The Spanish representatives in Vienna lobbied for Wallenstein to give the new governor, Cardinal-Infante Ferdinand, an armed escort of several regiments. Wallenstein refused. An army of a few thousand men with the Cardinal-Infante could not possibly withstand any Swedish attack on its way, he argued, while he could not spare thousands of men when the Habsburg core lands were under direct threat. Spain was snubbed. If the Spanish had ever supported Wallenstein, henceforth, they wouldn’t.
It doesn’t look so good anymore for our hero! In the next post, we will wrap up the story of Wallenstein. Watch this space!
A recent biography which succeeds at dispelling the Wallenstein myth is Mortimer, Geoff: Wallenstein. The Enigma of the Thirty Years’ War, Palgrave Macmillan, London 2010.
For an older, more encompassing biography with literary aspirations, see Mann, Golo: Wallenstein. His Life Narrated, Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, New York City, NY 1976.
On the reception of Wallenstein and his changing image from his contemporaries all the way through the 20th century, see Bahlcke, Joachim/Kampmann, Christoph: Wallensteinbilder im Widerstreit: Eine historische Symbolfigur in Geschichtsschreibung und Literatur vom 17. bis zum 20. Jahrhundert [Conflicting Conceptions of Wallenstein: A Symbolic Figure from History in Historiography and Literature from the 17th to the 20th Century], Böhlau, Cologne/Weimar/Vienna 2011 [in German].
For a short introduction to the Thirty Years’ War, see Schmidt, Georg: Der Dreißigjährige Krieg [The Thirty Years’ War], C.H. Beck, Munich 2010 [in German].
A magisterial monography on the entire war is Wilson, Peter H.: Europe’s Tragedy. A New History of the Thirty Years’ War, Penguin, London 2009.
Wallenstein spent the second half of 1625 raising and organizing his army. It was the first great army under imperial command – the victor of White Mountain, Johann Tserclaes, Count of Tilly, was technically a general of the Catholic League (Ferdinand’s Catholic allies in the Holy Roman Empire, chief of them the Bavarian elector Maximilian), while the rebellious Palatinate had been put down by Spanish forces diverted from their war against the Dutch. And what an army it was! A popular anecdote has it that Ferdinand asked Wallenstein if he could field 20,000 men – to which Wallenstein replied “20,000 – no. But 50,000 – yes.”, as only a large army could occupy the territory and seize the contributions necessary.
Many warlords, mercenary captains, and private security CEOs have been called “violence entrepreneurs.” They provide the ways of violence (and, if successful, the ends of security) to their employer, which usually consist in the command vested in themselves and the military manpower of their forces (sometimes, only one or the other).
Wallenstein, however, went far beyond that. Of course he took command of the army, and he also raised it himself (in that sense not unlike the other condottiere of the time like Ernst von Mansfeld). However, he also took care of the supply of this army, from the grain which would make the soldiers’ breakfast to the last musket ball they fired in a battle. He sourced all these goods to the best of his abilities from his own estates in the Duchy of Friedland – an immense economic stimulus that made his already well-administered lands even more prosperous.
And, on top of the supply, Wallenstein also provided the up-front pay for the soldiers. That had been the part which had convinced Emperor Ferdinand II because he did not have to search the empty imperial coffers for funds. Wallenstein was allowed to raise a general tax on the occupied territories as well as the Habsburg hereditary domains to reimburse himself – a juster system than the punitive payments extracted from occupied territories alone, but obviously also less popular among the inhabitants and nobles of the Habsburg lands.
And yet, the emperor was ever deeper in Wallenstein’s debt, owing him vast sums Wallenstein had to borrow himself (chiefly from his Dutch banker Hans de Witte). As the imperial treasury was perpetually empty, Ferdinand’s only way of paying was to give Wallenstein land – land he had conquer himself first.
First Blood: Dessau Bridge and Hungary
Wallenstein and his force joined Tilly in northern Germany in late 1625. They took separate winter quarters and divided their responsibilities for the campaigns of 1626: Tilly was to keep Christian IV of Denmark in check, Wallenstein the army of Ernst von Mansfeld.
In spring 1626, Wallenstein occupied strong positions on the central Elbe. As Mansfeld planned to march south to the Habsburg hereditary lands (where he wanted to meet with the army of his ally Gabriel Bethlen, the Prince of Transylvania), he attempted to force the crossing of the Elbe at the Dessau bridge defended by a small garrison under Wallenstein’s lieutenant Johann von Aldringen. Aldringen’s tenacious defense held the bridge for a few days until Wallenstein’s main army arrived at the bridge, attacked Mansfeld from the rear, and won a great victory.
The catastrophe at the Dessau bridge fit in with Mansfeld’s military record, a string of defeats. Yet Mansfeld had never been one to give up, and neither did he then. He took his diminished army on a long route via Silesia and Moravia in direction of Hungary. Against Tilly’s wishes who wanted to remain concentrated in the north of Germany, Wallenstein chased after Mansfeld to take care of the threat to the Habsburg core lands. He could choose a shorter route, but to catch up with Mansfeld who’d had a headstart of a month, his army force-marched at a rate of almost 30km per day. The downside of this feat was that thousands of men died on the march in the hot summer, had to be left behind in garrisons, or just deserted. Wallenstein arrived in Hungary with a markedly diminished force.
Both Mansfeld and Bethlen maneuvered around Hungary. As the campaign had not only taken its toll on Wallenstein’s forces, but also on their commander, he considered resignation. In the end, he let himself be convinced to stay on. His father-in-law Karl von Harrach acted as the representative of the emperor and negotiated an agreement with Wallenstein that confirmed the general’s right to draw his supply directly from Bohemia without involving the imperial administration, take winter quarters in the Habsburg hereditary lands, and enlarge his army. The convinced threat to his own estate in Bohemia may have contributed to his decision to stay in the field. Despite the Imperial War Council urging Wallenstein to attack, he prioritized the conservation of his army for the rest of the year.
It was enough. Mansfeld died in November 1626 of a hemorrhage. Gabriel Bethlen made peace with the emperor in December. As Wallenstein’s army had been in the field far longer than was customary at the time, the winter had taken its toll. Wallenstein had begun his chase of Mansfeld with 20,000 men. Now he had less than half.
The campaign of 1626 shows that battle was not the greatest danger for the soldiers (Wallenstein did not fight a single one after setting out for Hungary) – disease, food shortages, and exposure to the elements exacted a far greater death toll. While these experiences were universal (and mutually reinforcing), it came down to the decision of the general how harsh they would be. Wallenstein’s hard marches and late move into winter quarters were understandable in the context of his operational goals, but also contributed to the devastation of his army.
Map of Cuius Regio, arrows showing Wallenstein’s march from Dessau to Hungary: Even a general with a high leadership rating like Wallenstein, would need several activations to cross half the map, putting a large dose of Fatigue on the army. Playtest art.
These elements of 17th century operational warfare are neatly modelled in the upcoming Cuius Regio (Francisco Gradaille, GMT Games) with the single modifier of Fatigue. Whenever an army moves, fights, or does other arduous things, its fatigue increases. The higher the fatigue is, the more its movement range and fighting ability are reduced. Sometimes you will feel like you have to push your armies to their utmost limits – but often it is a wise decision to skip some activations and have your forces enjoy their winter quarters early.
Campaigns in the North
While Wallenstein’s forces had suffered much from the 1626 campaign, it had been operationally successful. With the threat represented by Mansfeld and Bethlen removed, the Habsburg core lands (and thus, Wallenstein’s own holdings in Bohemia) were safe once more.
While Wallenstein had pursued Mansfeld, Tilly had inflicted a painful defeat on Christian IV at Lutter. Now Wallenstein could join Tilly on the offensive against the Danish king. He sent a detachment under Hans Georg von Arnim (one of the many Protestants in important roles in Wallenstein’s army) north. His own force retook Silesia, the last imperial territory under enemy occupation, and then set out after Arnim. In addition to Wallenstein’s army, the Catholic League force under Tilly also advanced against the Danish forces.
By August 1627, northern Germany had been cleared of enemy troops. Wallenstein and Tilly could now invade Denmark proper. When Tilly was wounded, Wallenstein took command of both armies and occupied all of Jutland in a lightning campaign by the end of October 1627. Four months before, the King of Denmark had been in control of a part of the Habsburg hereditary lands. Now, he was reduced to flee to his island possessions.
Wallenstein sent word of his successes to Ferdinand II and was granted a meeting with him in Bohemia in November 1627. The emperor was duly grateful – and he was indebted, morally as well as financially, for Wallenstein still paid for the army’s upkeep in advance and was only irregularly reimbursed from the chronically empty imperial coffers. Ferdinand thus had to reward his loyal servant elsewise: He encouraged Wallenstein to strive to become King of Denmark – an inestimable honor for a man whose father had been the lord of one small village, and even that only because a kindly uncle had left it to him. Wallenstein, however, was too practical a man to overlook the immense difficulties connected to the Danish crown: Not only would he have to contend with the hostile Danish nobles, he would also have to fully defeat the sitting Danish king. And while Christian had been trounced in 1627, he now sat on his islands, defended by the powerful Danish navy, and unassailable as long as the imperial army was not joined by a navy of its own in the Baltic Sea. Wallenstein thus politely declined, saying that he preferred “the other [reward]” – that being the Duchy of Mecklenburg.
The Dukes of Mecklenburg had supported the Danish king in his intervention against the emperor – rebellious princes being a tradition in the Holy Roman Empire for centuries. Ferdinand’s decision to oust them and replace them with his general was decidedly un-traditional, another flagrant breach of the “German liberty” (of princes) after the deposition of the Elector of the Palatinate. Yet the electorate had passed to Maximilian of Bavaria, one of the most exalted princes of the Empire, the descendant of a long line of Bavarian dukes, one of which had even been emperor. The Duchy of Mecklenburg, on the other hand, passed to Wallenstein, the son of a minor country noble from Bohemia, who now would be the direct vassal of Ferdinand II as emperor, a prince of the Empire. The old nobility felt that affront keenly – no one keener than Maximilian.
Wallenstein’s mind was less concerned with the jealousy of the princes than with the military opportunities and challenges at hand. As his mighty army stood at the Baltic shores, he could play for the dominium Maris Baltici, the supremacy in the Baltic Sea now. The other contenders were his Danish enemy, the king of Poland-Lithuania, Sigismund III Vasa, who had also been King of Sweden until his deposition in 1599, and the ruling Swedish king Gustavus Adolphus. For now, the Catholic king of Poland kept the Protestant king of Sweden busy, and it seemed unlikely anyway that Sweden would ally with its Baltic rival Denmark, notwithstanding their shared Protestant faith. If Wallenstein could gather a navy of his own (the emperor had already created him Admiral of the Baltic and North Sea, a grand title for a commander without a single warship), then the emperor would be a contender for the dominium Maris Baltici.
There were only two ways to get ships. The first was to rely on the emperor’s Spanish Habsburg relatives. Yet while Spain was one of the premier naval powers of the age, the Spanish were still embroiled in their struggle against Dutch independence which kept their navy more than busy. And just as Wallenstein was suspicious of Spanish interventions in central and northern European affairs, so were most of the central and northern Europeans in question. If Wallenstein aligned himself with Spain, they would be hostile. Thus, Wallenstein counted on the second way to get his navy – from the Baltic coast itself. For that, he needed to convince some of the rich merchant towns to declare for the emperor and supply him with ships. That was delicate tightrope: Wallenstein had to be firm enough to make them give concessions to him, but not so authoritarian that they would close their gates in his face.
One town immediately defied Wallenstein: The relatively small Stralsund, nominally a part of the Duchy of Pomerania, but practically independent, refused to allow an imperial garrison and would not negotiate about it. Arnim began to besiege the town. Now Wallenstein was embroiled in a struggle he hadn’t wanted over a place he didn’t much care for, having to divert an ever-larger part of his army to the siege. As he still didn’t have any ships, Stralsund could be easily supplied from the sea, and the as the town grew more desperate accepted, it also accepted outside support – first in weapons, then also in soldiers – from Denmark, and eventually Sweden.
Wallenstein accepted that the town would not budge. If he wanted it, he would have to take it in a bloody general assault. The price seemed too high for such an unimportant place. When the Pomeranian duke Bogislav promised that Stralsund would be loyal to the emperor, Wallenstein lifted the siege, just in time to face Christian of Denmark again.
The Danish king did Wallenstein’s job for him: He left the safety of his island possessions, landed a much too small army in the Pomeranian town of Wolgast, and was duly trounced by Wallenstein once more. Gustavus Adolphus was still tied down in Poland and thus unable to intervene on behalf of the hard-pressed Protestant side. The end of the emperor’s war with Denmark was near.
Wallenstein wanted peace. Only peace, peace on terms favorable to the emperor, could confirm his rule over the by now vast holdings in his three duchies of Friedland (in Bohemia), Mecklenburg (on the Baltic coast), and, since February 1628, Sagan (in Silesia), another time the emperor had settled some of his outstanding debt to Wallenstein in land. For this peace, he was willing to make concessions. He also was realistic enough to understand that the balance of power at sea was unchanged, and that Christian would possibly not be so foolish as to leave the Danish isles a second time. Thus, Wallenstein as the emperor’s representative negotiated the Peace of Lübeck with Denmark. Christian promised not to intervene in the Empire (as far as he was not concerned as a prince of the Empire). In return, he did not have to make any territorial concessions. The treaty was remarkably successful as it did not breed any further grudges and instead ensured Christian’s future loyalty to the emperor. As Gustavus Adolphus would end his war against Poland-Lithuania later in 1629, Swedish intervention against the emperor seemed possible. Having the goodwill of Sweden’s traditional rival Denmark was all the more valuable.
Princes and Politics
The Peace of Lübeck had shown Wallenstein’s qualities as a diplomat, and as a statesman. It would also show his limitations as a politician – while he could treat with his enemies, he had a hard time making friends within the Catholic-imperial camp.
Wallenstein saw Habsburg Spain as a strategic liability. Spanish troops may have defeated the Elector of the Palatinate in the early 1620s, but overall, Spain demanded more from the emperor than it gave to him. Wallenstein’s refusal to send parts of his army to support Spanish campaigns in the Netherlands and even in Upper Italy against France, which risked French intervention against the Habsburgs in the Empire, earned him the suspicion of the influential Spanish party at the imperial court in Vienna.
On top of that, Wallenstein was inclined to compromise, whereas both the emperor and most of his supporters (like the Spanish or the Elector of Bavaria) were hardliners. This showed most clearly in religious matters: Wallenstein was always happy to treat Protestants and Catholics the same, whereas Ferdinand, Maximilian, and their ilk wanted to roll back Protestantism. Their chosen instrument was the Edict of Restitution (1629): Any monastic or clerical territory which had been secularized by a Protestant ruler since 1552 was to be restored – a sweeping change which would have affected two archbishoprics, seven bishoprics, and around 500 monasteries.
Wallenstein’s approach to use a position of strength for reconciliation (as he had done with the Peace of Lübeck) may have given peace to the Empire as well. Ferdinand’s attempt to parlay his military success into religious domination was bound to mobilize the Protestants in the Empire (which made up over 80% of its population), harden hostilities, and prolong the war that had already been raging for over a decade.
Finally, Wallenstein as a person aroused suspicion, jealousy, and hatred among the princes, especially the only ones still nominally superior to him, the Electors. The princes had been outraged when Ferdinand made the upstart Wallenstein Duke of Mecklenburg, ousting an ancient dynasty. Many of them also had a noble in their court, a vassal, or even a distant relative in military service to the empire who had been snubbed by Wallenstein – he liked to run his army based on merit, not birth, and when a colonel disappointed him, Wallenstein would sack him, no matter how aristocratic or well-connected he was. There was thus a constant flow of complaint about Wallenstein to the courts of the princes, and, as none of the electors (save Emperor Ferdinand, who, as King of Bohemia, was also one of the seven electors) had ever met Wallenstein in person, their impression of him remained based on the stories of his detractors. Wallenstein, Duke of Friedland, Mecklenburg, and Sagan, was not one of them. He was a mystery, a threat, a demon.
Thirty Years War: Europe in Agony 1618—1648 is a rather zoomed-out, strategic treatment of the entire war. It is all the more remarkable that of the 18 sections in its rulebook, one is solely dedicated to one historical personality. Rule 7, “Wallenstein”, introduces the players to a unique concept: Wallenstein is not only the ablest commander on the Catholic side, he is also the only general whose influence is tracked, rising whenever he recruits new forces, takes cities, or initiates and wins battles. And when his influence reaches 20, the game ends – in a Protestant Major Victory, thus keeping the Catholic player from using Wallenstein all too much. The only ways to forestall that as the Catholic player are not using Wallenstein anymore, or, once per game, dismissing him to take his counter temporarily off the board and halving his influence.
What had kept Wallenstein afloat since he had become supreme imperial general in 1625 was that Wallenstein had been the only man with an army fighting for the emperor, and Ferdinand had had many military problems to solve. Ferdinand had needed Wallenstein. By 1629, as Wallenstein had relieved him of these problems, Ferdinand needed the electors more: He was in his fifties now, and needed to take care of his succession. The imperial crown was elective. Traditionally, the heir to the emperor had been elected King of the Romans while his father still lived to indicate his succession. Ferdinand wanted to secure this election for his eldest son (another Ferdinand).
The electors, led by Maximilian of Bavaria and his brother, the Archbishop of Cologne, met at the Diet of Regensburg in 1630. They let Ferdinand know that they refused to even consider a royal election as long as Wallenstein acted as the emperor’s supreme general. Ferdinand caved in and relieved Wallenstein of his command.
For a short moment, both Ferdinand and the electors trembled at thought of Wallenstein’s reaction. What would the most successful general, the commander of the largest army in the empire, do? Yet Wallenstein received the news politely, thanking the emperor for taking the burden of command off his shoulders. His army was put under the command of Tilly, the only other general available with a successful record. Wallenstein retired to his estates.
Historians come to their conclusions about times long past because they can read the documents of the contemporaries – not their minds. We do not know why Wallenstein took the removal from the apex of his career so calmly, for he never explained it in writing to anyone (in the extant documents known to scholars, that is). His increasingly painful gout may have contributed. He was not keen on the extended duty of financing the army and receiving little reimbursement from the emperor, especially as his source of ready cash had dried up – his banker de Witte had gone bankrupt and would commit suicide only five days after Wallenstein received news of his dismissal. He may have been tired of war and treaties, looking forward to tending to the administration of his estates which he had so tirelessly collected. I find the opposite more likely – that Wallenstein guessed his retirement would be temporary, based on his expert knowledge of Baltic affairs.
Eight weeks before Wallenstein received the news of his dismissal in September 1630, Gustavus Adolphus had landed in northern Germany. He advanced south as the electors discussed Wallenstein’s fate, apparently unconcerned with the new military threat. How could a king from such a faraway land threaten them? He would do as Christian of Denmark had done, build his forces, slowly and cautiously advance through northern Germany. Tilly would beat him, as Catholic-imperial armies had beaten Protestant armies throughout the entire twelve years of war, at White Mountain, in the Palatinate, at Dessau Bridge, Lutter, Wolgast… or so they thought. They could not have been more wrong.
Setup for the Intervention scenario in Thirty Years War: Europe in Agony, 1618-1648: Note the Swedish doomstack under Gustavus Adolphus in the coastal town of Stettin which will surely make its way south. From the Vassal module.
Politically, Tilly handled the Protestants much less skillful than Wallenstein had done: When Tilly took the city of Magdeburg in May 1631 in an attempt to draw Gustavus Adolphus back, his army killed, burned, and raped for three days in one of the most atrocious excesses of the entire Thirty Years’ War. And instead of recognizing the neutrality of the electors of Brandenburg and especially Saxony, Tilly pressed them to choose a side. They chose Sweden.
John George of Saxony was a deeply conservative Elector who prized his loyalty to the emperor over his religious affiliation as a Protestant. Yet when Tilly’s troops started marauding in Saxony, John George declared for Sweden. From the Vassal module of Thirty Years War: Europe in Agony, 1618-1648.
And militarily, Gustavus Adolphus was a much greater general than Christian of Denmark. He and Tilly maneuvered around each other When his battle-hardened veterans of the Polish campaign (and some of his new Saxon allies) met Tilly’s army at Breitenfeld in September 1631, the imperial force was utterly shattered. Gustavus Adolphus marched southwest and wintered in the rich Rhineland, barely touched by the war so far. In 1632, he would be ready to march on Ferdinand’s hereditary lands (with Maximilian’s Bavaria conveniently on the way). In their despair, the leaders of the Catholic-imperial cause extended their feelers to Wallenstein.
A recent biography which succeeds at dispelling the Wallenstein myth is Mortimer, Geoff: Wallenstein. The Enigma of the Thirty Years’ War, Palgrave Macmillan, London 2010.
For an older, more encompassing biography with literary aspirations, see Mann, Golo: Wallenstein. His Life Narrated, Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, New York City, NY 1976.
On the reception of Wallenstein and his changing image from his contemporaries all the way through the 20th century, see Bahlcke, Joachim/Kampmann, Christoph: Wallensteinbilder im Widerstreit: Eine historische Symbolfigur in Geschichtsschreibung und Literatur vom 17. bis zum 20. Jahrhundert [Conflicting Conceptions of Wallenstein: A Symbolic Figure from History in Historiography and Literature from the 17th to the 20th Century], Böhlau, Cologne/Weimar/Vienna 2011 [in German].
For a short introduction to the Thirty Years’ War, see Schmidt, Georg: Der Dreißigjährige Krieg [The Thirty Years’ War], C.H. Beck, Munich 2010 [in German].
A magisterial monography on the entire war is Wilson, Peter H.: Europe’s Tragedy. A New History of the Thirty Years’ War, Penguin, London 2009.
We’ve been assessing the merits of political leaders in (more or less) democratic countries on this blog for a few years now – UK prime ministers, US presidents, German chancellors. Today, we’re returning to German presidents, looking at Friedrich Ebert. And which game could be more appropriate for him than Weimar (Matthias Cramer, Capstone Games/Skellig Games/Spielworxx)?
The Rating System
Some caveats ahead: The presidents will be rated by the knowledge of their time. If they or their contemporaries could not have known about the effects of something, I will not use my hindsight to mark it as a mistake of theirs. The assessment is focused on their conduct as president.
Now, to the system itself: There are three policy field categories (foreign, domestic, and economic policy) and three more general ones (vision, pragmatism, integrity). A president can earn from one to five stars in each category (for a total sum of up to 30). In detail, the president is assessed as follows:
Foreign policy: Did the president increase German influence in the world and the security of Germans at home? Did the president wield German power responsibly and with positive results for the regions affected?
Domestic policy: Did the president increase the liberty of Germans to express themselves and to participate in the political process? Did the president promote domestic security and shape the framework for fair justice dealing with offenses?
Economic policy: Did the president facilitate the prosperity and economic security of Germans (including in the mid- and long-term)? Was the president’s economic policy based on mutual benefit of those involved or did it unduly burden one side?
Vision: Did the president have an idea of what Germany and Europe (the latter counting for more in times of German influence being great) should look like beyond the immediate future? Did the president’s policies steer Germany (and, if applicable, Europe) in this direction?
Pragmatism: Did the president succeed in seeing their policy through from inception to completion? How well did the president manage the support from parliament, society, the administration, the media?
Integrity: Did the president understand the office as a means to benefit themselves, special interest groups, the entire country, or another community? Did the president respect the boundaries of the office?
Note: If you have read my UK prime minister or US president ratings, you will remember that I rated them on the global impacts of their vision as well. As the rating system is only really applicable to democratic leaders and no democratic German leader ever had the chance to conduct a truly global policy, I only assess their vision on national and European grounds.
In all other ratings (UK prime ministers, US presidents, German chancellors) the subject’s life after holding the office is also assessed (for they are still seen as ex-office holders, but as a secondary consideration). This does not apply here, as – spoiler! – both Weimar Republic presidents died in office.
In Ebert’s special case, I will not only assess his conduct as president, but also as chancellor before, as he held the post at a time when Germany did not have a head of state.
Ebert’s Life
From Saddler to Chancellor
Friedrich Ebert was born on February 4, 1871, as the son of a tailor. He learned the trade of a saddler and became involved with the workers’ movement during his journeyman years. In 1891, he settled down in Bremen, where he ran a pub while working for the trade union. Ebert’s political work in the trade union and the Social Democratic Party (Sozialdemokratische Partei Deutschlands, SPD) assumed ever more importance. He was elected to the Bremen city council (1899) and became a full-time trade union secretary. In the following years, Ebert rose to national prominence: He was elected to the SPD national party committee (1905) and to the Reichstag, the national parliament of Germany (1912). One year later, he became one of the leading Social Democrats in Germany when he was elected co-chairman of the SPD.
The Social Democrats faced their crucible at the outbreak of World War I. Ebert successfully advocated supporting the government’s war efforts (instead of attempting to forge an international workers’ coalition against the war). In the later years of the war, more and more Social Democrats took up a strict anti-war stance, forming up as Independent Social Democrats (Unabhängige Sozialdemokratische Partei Deutschlands, USPD). Ebert maintained his previous stance and kept most of his allies within the party (now known as Majority Social Democrats (Mehrheitssozialdemokratische Partei Deutschlands, MSPD), yet tried to mediate between workers protesting and striking against the war and the government (notably during the January Strike of 1918).
When the military situation looked grim for Germany in fall 1918, de facto military dictator Erich von Ludendorff resigned and pushed for a new government to assume responsibility for the impending defeat. Ebert joined a parliamentary government and became its interim chancellor on the day that emperor William II was forced to abdicate. Two days later, Germany and the Allies agreed on the Armistice which ended the fighting on the Western Front.
Many socialists, especially from the USPD, now pressed for a full-scale political and social revolution based on the workers’ and soldiers’ councils sprouting up everywhere. Ebert, who abhorred the Russian Revolution, wanted to bring about gradual change which would transform Germany into a democracy by parliamentary means. The sweep of revolution brought MSPD and USPD together in an uneasy government alliance. The opposition between moderate and radical socialists provides the basis for the SPD and KPD (Kommunistische Partei Deutschlands – Communist Party of Germany) players’ relationship in Weimar (all forms of radical socialism are subsumed under the umbrella of the KPD (which was historically only founded in January 1919) in the game). The USPD is a minor party in the game which can be aligned with either SPD or KPD (starting in the latter’s camp) and which provides more gumption for actions in the street and sizable parliamentary bonuses in the early game.
The USPD gives additional seats in parliament in the first four rounds of the game as well as a bonus point in the reserve each round (on the board to the left of the card). If the SPD can wrest the party away from KPD control early, that usually results in a large democratic majority under SPD leadership.
In the heady first days of the revolution, MSPD co-chairman Philipp Scheidemann proclaimed the German Republic (Ebert had opposed it and wanted Germany to become a parliamentary monarchy). The new government also proclaimed wide-ranging individual liberties and promised sweeping economic and social reforms (ranging from the eight-hour work day over housing programs to social security) as well as democratic elections in which both men and women would have the right to vote – here Ebert and the USPD agreed in substance, yet not in process: The USPD regarded the consent of the workers’ and soldiers’ councils as enough legitimation; Ebert insisted to carry out the reforms through a parliamentary process. Ebert outfoxed the USPD by having the Reich Councils’ Congress agree to hold parliamentary elections at the earliest possible date.
While Ebert outmaneuvered his rivals on the left, he also secured his right flank. Millions of German soldiers streamed back from the frontlines after the armistice. They needed to be demobilized in an orderly fashion, and, most of all, the threat of a military coup against the nascent republic needed to be warded off. Ebert thus struck a bargain with the army’s conservative leadership: The army would not act against the republic. In return, the new government would forgo the democratization of army structures. The deal already paid off for Ebert by December 1918: When the conflict of the government with the left-leaning People’s Naval Division over outstanding pay and the choosing of its commander escalated, Ebert had the Division dissolved by armed force. The same fate awaited the singularly ill-prepared Spartacus Uprising of January 1919.
A revolution makes for strange bedfellows: Social Democrat Ebert is inspecting German troops in the illustration of the “Pact with the Old Powers” event card. The event is extremely powerful under the right circumstances. Note that the SPD player could also use it to suppress a right-wing insurgency!
When the National Assembly had been elected in January 1919, Ebert’s MSPD was by far the strongest party. Its allies, the Catholic Zentrum (Center), and the progressive-liberal DDP (Deutsche Demokratische Partei, German Democratic Party) also fared well at the ballot box. Due to the armed unrest in Berlin, the National Assembly was convened in the quiet provincial town of Weimar, thus providing the common name for the first German republic (and, consequently, also for the alliance of SPD, Zentrum, and DDP – the “Weimar Coalition”). The Assembly elected Ebert the first president on February 11, 1919.
The Parliamentary President
The National Assembly established wide-ranging rights for the president in the constitution. Yet Ebert interpreted these as powers to be used in emergencies. In his view, the president was a steward whose role was to guard the constitution and integrate the nation. Thus, Ebert only rarely got involved in the day-to-day business of the cabinet, now headed by Philipp Scheidemann – for example, when the Allies presented Germany with the Treaty of Versailles, Ebert remained publicly non-committal.
Even when the republic as such was threatened, the president was not always the first to respond: The right-wing power grab by Wolfgang Kapp and Walther von Lüttwitz was stopped by a general strike. While Ebert’s name appeared on the pamphlet calling for the strike, it is likely that he was in fact not involved in the move. Ebert’s main contribution to the failure of the coup was of a different kind: When the coup leaders occupied Berlin, the federal civil service refused to do their bidding. Even though most of the civil servants had been hired under the emperor and felt attached to the monarchy, they had come to respect Ebert and would not enable the coup against his lawful government.
The 1920 parliamentary elections dealt the (M)SPD and its allies a heavy blow. They lost their parliamentary majority. Ebert advocated for a “grand coalition” which would include not only the parties of the Weimar Coalition, but also the pro-business, national liberal DVP (Deutsche Volkspartei, German People’s Party). His counsel was not heeded. Instead, Zentrum and DDP formed a bourgeois minority government.
Ebert was the most imposing political figure of the early Weimar Republic. While his integrative approach did much to wed the more moderate workers to the Republic (they would remain its most steadfast defenders till the very end), his suppression of revolutionary activities also alienated the more radical workers… thus the “Red Emperor” event card (showing Ebert at his presidential desk) can cut both ways, placing either an SPD- or a KPD-aligned worker marker on the society track.
As the government had no parliamentary majority, the president might have assumed a greater role. Ebert, however, maintained his interpretation of the presidency as a stewardship, detached from party politics and the day-to-day decisions of the cabinet. In economic and social matters, Ebert retained his representative role, mediating at times in collective bargaining struggles. In foreign policy, the president’s constitutional role was larger, and while Ebert generally supported the general foreign policy of the bourgeois minority governments, he was left out of the actual decision-making. In the meantime, Ebert tirelessly lobbied for cooperation among all democratic parties. It took a plunge into catastrophe for the young republic to heed his counsel.
When Germany reduced the reparation payments to the Allies in January 1923, France occupied the industrial heartland on the Ruhr. The German government called on the workers of the Ruhr not to collaborate with the occupation force in extracting the reparations in kind (“passive resistance”). That required the government to pay out ersatz wages to millions of people, accelerating inflation to a ludicrous degree. By August 1923, prices compared to January had multiplied by 100 (!), and France was still occupying the Ruhr. With Ebert’s support, all democratic parties from the SPD to the DVP formed a grand coalition under chancellor Gustav Stresemann.
Stresemann ended the ruinous passive resistance. While economically sound, this blow to German national sentiment caused backlash: The Bavarian state government declared a state of emergency, aiming to build a new authoritarian system in Bavaria (equivalent to the establishment of a right-wing regime in Weimar) and then exporting it to the Reich as a whole. In response, SPD-KPD state governments formed in Saxony and Thuringia (both in the path for a “March on Berlin” from Munich).
Once more, Ebert suppressing a leftist challenge to the republic. The Reichsexekution placed Saxony and Thuringia under federal control.
Ebert used the constitutional emergency powers granted to the president to depose the Saxon and Thuringian state governments. Federal troops quelled the unrest there before any uprising had even materialized. Yet while the army would march against leftist challenges to the republic, it was notoriously unwilling to confront right-wing movements (as Ebert knew from the Kapp-Lüttwitz coup). Thus, while Ebert formally put the army’s commander Hans von Seeckt in charge of Bavaria, he did not order any concrete action. In the end, the authoritarian government of Bavaria was overthrown from the fringe of the right-wing movement – Germany’s erstwhile military dictator Ludendorff and an ambitious demagogue named Adolf Hitler took the key government players captive and called for a march on Berlin. It was stopped within its first kilometer by 130 policemen. After that, the authoritarian government collapsed. The republic had been saved.
Lots to deal with: The Weimar Republic was close to collapse in 1923 – in game terms, approaching its seventh threat marker in the Deutsches Reich box.
While the Weimar Republic stabilized, Ebert fought for the dignity of his office. He had been smeared by enemies of the republic from the beginning of his term. When Ebert had visited a beach town in 1919, a local photographer had snapped a picture of him in swimming trunks. The monarchists bought that picture and kept circulating it, often contrasting the half-naked president with one of the emperors of the old Germany in full regalia.
The nationalist DNVP begins the game as the weakest of the four parties. One strategy for them is to erode the democratic majority – for example, by attacking the SPD’s parliamentary standing with the President in Swimming Trunks event.
Ebert’s detractors also attacked his conduct. Most famously, they attacked him for his role in the January Strike in 1918. A court found those calling Ebert a “traitor to his country” for his participation in the strike guilty of defamation, but added that they were factually correct – symptomatic for the monarchist leanings of the Weimar courts, still staffed with jurists from the ancien régime. The court’s ruling was only overturned in 1931. Ebert would not live to see it. He had put off surgery for appendicitis due to the trial and died of the resulting peritonitis on February 28, 1925. He was only 53 years old.
Ebert’s death is a watershed moment in a Weimar game. As long as the Ebert token occupies the Reichspräsident spot, the presidency is neutral, and nobody gains any benefits from it. When Ebert dies, an election is held in which the parties’ popularity with the voters is measured. Each party fields a candidate. The two candidates with the most votes advance to the second round, in which the two parties whose candidates have been eliminated can pledge their votes to any of the remaining candidates. That is a crucial moment to make deals, to forge alliances, to exact promises in return for the votes, and, more often than not, to pivot away from an ally who has become too strong. (I have seen my Social Democratic candidate defeated by a very grand coalition of the other three parties – Nationalists, Conservatives, and Communists.) From then on, the party holding the presidency can play a card both for the event/actions and for a debate once per round, effectively giving the party one more party card (which, as you typically only draw three of them per round, is huge). This less restrained approach to the presidency reflects the presidential activism of Ebert’s successor Paul von Hindenburg.
Even though foreign policy was the area in which the president’s role was constitutionally confirmed, Ebert followed rather than led. While he – much like his head of government Philipp Scheidemann – personally found the terms of the Versailles Treaty unacceptable, he stayed on when Scheidemann resigned, displaying a keen sense of duty and order. Ebert supported the various governments in their unpopular, but necessary fulfilment of the stipulations of the Versailles Treaty and their orientation toward the western powers. At times, he was entirely sidelined, as when chancellor Joseph Wirth and foreign minister Walther Rathenau forged the Treaty of Rapallo with the Soviet Union.
Ebert’s achievements in this realm lie during his tenure as chancellor. His Proclamation (Nov 12, 1918) ushered in an unprecedented era of personal liberty and social equity, exemplified in the commitment to freedom of the press and women’s suffrage. Ebert’s integration of the army into the new republic avoided a civil war. Later, his uneven use of force dealing with the uprisings of 1923 was pragmatically understandable, but failed to conciliate the political right with the republic or make the army more accountable to the political leadership.
The Proclamation of November 12, 1918 laid the foundation for the eight-hour work day, a milestone for the working population of Germany. An overlooked contribution of Ebert’s to economic development is his advocacy for the “grand coalition” – only this broad alliance could bring about the far-reaching currency reform which ended hyperinflation in 1923. That Ebert’s calls to alleviate the social hardships which came as a side effect to the currency reform went unheeded by the bourgeois minority government which followed the grand coalition is symptomatic for the limited power of the presidency in the realm of economic and social policy.
Ebert has often been criticized from the left as too cautious, not able or not willing to dream big. And indeed, in hindsight his thought and practice seems much less imaginative than his critics’ utopias of socialist republics based on grassroots councils. Yet in 1918, the thought of a liberal, parliamentary Germany – the realization of the dream of 1848 – was revolutionary, and, most importantly, it was achievable. Ebert helped to bring about the German democracy and guided it into calmer waters during his tenure.
Rating: 5 out of 5.
If Ebert (pictured in the background of the election poster) played Weimar, he’d select this agenda card every round.
Pragmatism
Ebert made it possible for the bourgeois politicians, the army, and the civil service to get along with a Social Democratic government. While this was an impressive feat in itself, his pleas for cooperation were often not heeded – neither from his own party nor from those he sought as allies. His natural inclination to compromise veils his deft handling of his political opponents: The USPD joined the provisional government on equal footing in November, yet ended up entirely outmaneuvered by January – its moderates falling in with Ebert’s call for elections as soon as possible, its radicals reduced to a singularly ill-advised attempt at armed uprising.
Ebert is the rare politician who, presented with the opportunity to make wide-reaching decisions with a free hand, refused it. His belief that a freely elected parliament must make the important choices guided him during the revolution. Later, Ebert understood himself as a steward of the republic, a president of all Germans, and was unwilling to use his office for the gain of particular individuals or groups. He used the wide-ranging emergency powers assigned to the president in the constitution only when presented with a grave crisis. His thoughtful wielding of power becomes ever more apparent in comparison with his successor’s liberal use of the emergency powers which contributed to the fall of the republic.
Friedrich Ebert took on the highest duty in tumultuous times. He wielded power responsibly, with the best of intentions, and remarkable success. His restraint and willingness to compromise were admirable in themselves, but sometimes emboldened the enemies of the republic he had helped to create.
How would you rate Ebert? Let me know in the comments!
Further Reading
For a short introduction to Ebert (and all other German chancellors in history), see: Sternburg, Wilhelm von (ed.): Die deutschen Kanzler. Von Bismarck bis Merkel [The German Chancellors. From Bismarck to Merkel], Aufbau, Berlin 2007, pp. 187—210 [in German].
The standard scholarly biography remains Mühlhausen, Walter: Friedrich Ebert. 1871—1925. Reichspräsident der Weimarer Republik [Friedrich Ebert. 1871—1925. Reichspräsident of the Weimar Republic], Dietz, Bonn 2007 [in German].
For the broader context, see: Herbert, Ulrich: A History of Twentieth-Century Germany, Oxford University Press, Oxford 2019.
Nine score and seven weeks ago, I have inaugurated a new irregular series on my blog assessing the merits of UK prime ministers (illustrated through the lens of a single board game each). The rating system seemed robust enough to apply it to other countries/leaders (at least if they are more or less democratic). Thus, we branched out to American presidents, German chancellors, and even a German president. Today’s subject is another US president – Abraham Lincoln, our first rated subject from the 19th century. And which game could be more appropriate for him than the first real political-military game of the American Civil War – For the People (Mark Herman, GMT Games)?
The Rating System
Some caveats ahead: The presidents will be rated by the knowledge of their time. If they or their contemporaries could not have known about the effects of something, I will not use my hindsight to mark it as a mistake of theirs. The assessment is focused on their conduct as president, but includes their life after holding the office (in which they will still be regarded in the public eye as (ex-)presidents).
Now, to the system itself: There are three policy field categories (foreign, domestic, and economic policy) and three more general ones (vision, pragmatism, integrity). A president can earn from one to five stars in each category (for a total sum of up to 30). In detail, the president is assessed as follows:
Foreign policy: Did the president increase US influence in the world and the security of Americans at home? Did the president wield US power responsibly and with positive results for the regions affected (the latter counting for a greater deal in times of US power being great)?
Domestic policy: Did the president increase the liberty of Americans to express themselves and to participate in the political process? Did the president promote domestic security and shape the framework for fair justice dealing with offenses?
Economic policy: Did the president facilitate the prosperity and economic security of Americans (including in the mid- and long-term)? Was the president’s economic policy based on mutual benefit of those involved or did it unduly burden one side?
Vision: Did the president have an idea of what the United States and the world (the latter counting for more in times of US influence being great) should look like beyond the immediate future? Did the president’s policies steer the United States (and, if applicable, the world) in this direction?
Pragmatism: Did the president succeed in seeing his policy through from inception to completion? How well did the president manage the support from Congress, society, the administration, the media (the latter counting for more in more recent years)?
Integrity: Did the president understand the office as a means to benefit himself, special interest groups, the entire country, or another community? Did the president respect the boundaries of the office?
Lincoln’s Life
Beginnings on the Frontier
Abraham Lincoln was born on February 12, 1809, as the son of Kentucky frontier farmers. The family moved around often during his childhood – first to Indiana, then Illinois. Lincoln received little formal education. He worked on his father’s farm and as a hired laborer from his youth on. However, he loved reading and yearned to escape physical labor by self-improvement – thus, he jumped at the chance to work as a store clerk (and later, store owner), postmaster, and, finally, taught himself law from books and passed the bar to practice as a lawyer.
Lincoln ran for the Illinois state legislature in 1832 and was narrowly defeated – as he proudly noted later, it was his only defeat in a popular election. Two years later, he was successful. During his eight years in the state house, Lincoln focused on supporting the infrastructural development of the state – railroads, canals, and the state bank to finance these projects.
The dominance of the Democratic Party in Illinois left little room for Whigs like Lincoln to be elected to national office. Lincoln thus waited until it was his turn in the Whig party candidate rotation to try for the US House of Representatives in 1846. Lincoln went to Washington where he attacked Democratic president James K. Polk’s war against Mexico. The Whig rotation meant that he could not run for re-election. Lincoln resumed his law practice and gloomily assumed his political career was over.
Lincoln vs. the Expansion of Slavery
The Mexican-American War ended in a resounding success for the United States – and in an expansion of slave-holding territory in the south which upended the Missouri Compromise of 1820. Instead of being bottled up in the south, slavery now seemed on the advance. The proponents of the “peculiar institution” saw their chance to export it to the territories, new states, and enforce their customs in the free states of the north as well. The possible expansion of slavery electrified its opponents as well, and the territories in the west – especially Kansas – soon became embroiled in a violent struggle over their status as slave-holding or free.
Lincoln was elected to the Illinois state legislature again in 1854, but declined to take his seat to stand for election to the US Senate (then elected by state legislatures). As he failed to obtain a majority, he struck a pact with anti-slavery Democrat Lyman Trumbull and had him elected on a cross-party coalition of Whigs and Trumbull’s small faction of anti-slavery Democrats. A political re-alignment was near.
When the new Republican Party formed, united in its opposition to slavery, Lincoln abandoned the sinking ship of the Whig Party. He stood again for election to the US Senate in 1858, this time against Democratic heavyweight Stephen A. Douglas who had made his fame as the evangelist of “popular sovereignty” – the position that the federal government should neither allow the expansion of slavery to the new states and territories nor ban it, and instead leave the decision to be decided in local referenda. Lincoln followed the immensely popular Douglas on his campaign trail and got him to stand in a series of debates against Lincoln. While Lincoln lost the Senate election once more, the debates elevated him to national standing as a moderate opponent of slavery with great intellectual and rhetorical capabilities.
Elected by the People
Lincoln’s moderate stance – he opposed the expansion of slavery, but did not call for its abolition in the slave states of the American South – was a liability in the new Republican Party if they just wanted to make a statement for their supporters. Yet when the dominant Democratic Party which had won six of the last eight presidential elections fractured over the question of slavery (Douglas’s platform of Popular Sovereignty gained a majority, but not the required two thirds of the delegates; the southern proponents of federal enforcement of slavery outside of the South bolted from the Democratic convention and nominated John C. Breckinridge as their own candidate), it became an asset – for the Republicans now played for victory. Lincoln was nominated as the Republican candidate, beating the party’s more radical heavyweights such as Governor Salmon P. Chase (Ohio) or Senator William H. Seward (New York). As the pro-slavery field fractured even further (John Bell ran as the candidate as the Constitutional Union Party which had the same views on slavery as the southern Democrats, but opposed their flirt with secession), the Republicans were suddenly the frontrunners. While Lincoln only won 40% of the popular vote in the election of November 6, 1860, he was ahead in all the populous free states of the north which gave him an easy victory in the electoral college (180 of 303 votes). John Bell had carried three states for 39 electoral votes with only 13% of the popular vote; Stephen Douglas only 12 electoral votes even though his 29% of the popular vote placed him second behind Lincoln. Yet he had been crushed in the north by Lincoln, and in the south by John Breckinridge who had only received 18% of the popular vote, but carried eleven slave-holding states in the south for 72 electoral votes.
Lincoln was only a moderate opponent of slavery, but that was still likely to mean that he would end the federal practice to enforce slavery in the new states and territories as well as the free states (as when fugitive slaves were returned from the free states to their erstwhile masters). That thought put southern slaveholders in a frenzy. South Carolina declared its secession from the United States on December 20, 1860. Six other states followed suit in the next weeks. The seven proclaimed a new country, the Confederate States of America, on February 4, 1861 – one month before Lincoln had even taken office.
Any attempts to save the Union before Lincoln’s accession failed. Lincoln himself made a conscious effort not to provoke the southerners, he was also fiercely aware that their position was that of a political minority, having just been soundly defeated by the electorate, and that he could not act “as if I repented for the crime of having been elected, and was anxious to apologize and beg forgiveness.” Constitutional Unionist Senator John C. Crittenden proposed to enshrine slavery in the US constitution to allay the fears of the slavers. These constitutional amendments could not gain a majority in Congress, as the Republicans were unwilling to use their electoral victory to enact their defeated opponent’s platform, and the southern Democrats were bent on secession.
Entering the White House, Lincoln found a mess. His predecessor James Buchanan, a pro-slavery Democrat, had done nothing to prevent secession or reign in the secessionists. Parts of his administration had even helped the secessionists before their terms in office ended. Lincoln himself dared not act to boldly to quash the secession as he (falsely) believed that the majority of southern whites supported the Union and would rise up against the secession. As that did not happen, the only committed Unionists in the South were representatives of federal institutions – most notably, the army. The secessionists seized army installations, where they could, and sieged them, where they couldn’t: The shots fired at Fort Sumter, a fort in the harbor of Charleston (South Carolina) which its commander refused to hand over to the secessionists, marked the beginning of armed insurrection to the United States – the American Civil War. Encouraged by the brazen action further south, four more states (including the all-important Virginia) joined the Confederacy.
Limited War to Save the Union
Lincoln now walked a dangerous tightrope. The secession could only be put down by military force, but he needed to apply it in a way which would not make the Union look the aggressor lest the slave states which were still in the Union (Missouri, Kentucky, and Maryland) seceded as well. Lincoln managed these border states with a deft hand. In Missouri, the local unionists and the US forces overcame the secessionists. Lincoln left Kentucky deliberately alone until a Confederate invasion swayed the state in favor of the Union (and US forces defended it against the Confederacy). Maryland, the most crucial of the three for its position (it provided the only connection of Washington, D.C., to the rest of the Union), was put under tight control by the US military. Lincoln dispensed with the writ of Habeas Corpus to allow for a more effective control of secessionists there.
With the border states secured, the Union needed to put down the Confederacy. That proved to be a daunting task: While the Confederacy was far inferior in terms of manpower and industrial production, it only needed to hold out long enough for the war to become so unpopular in the North that the Union would seek a negotiated end to it. The Union, on the other hand, had to force the Confederacy into surrender by destroying its armies and taking its territory. This asymmetry is reflected in the victory conditions of For the People: The Union player can only win (the campaign game) by dragging Confederate Strategic Will all the way down from 100 to 0. The Confederate player, on the other hand, has other avenues of victory: Having more than twice the Strategic Will of the Union player will do, as will lowering Union Strategic Will under 50 in fall of 1864 – when Lincoln would be up for re-election.
Lincoln was thus on a timer. The Union needed to win decisively, and soon. Yet the first offensive toward the Confederate capital Richmond (Virginia) was repelled. Lincoln consequently approved a massive expansion of the army, the naval blockade of the south, and a multi-pronged approach into the Confederacy (not only in the east, but also through Kentucky and along the Mississippi River) – preparations for a long war.
Lincoln studiously avoided any infractions against slavery in the early phase of the war (and when his generals, such as 1856 Republican presidential candidate John C. Frémont, overstepped their authority in that regard, sacked them). Yet as no southern Unionist movement arose to challenge the Confederacy, Lincoln’s belief in the unionist leanings of the white Southerners dwindled. By 1862, he had grown convinced that the still undecided war had broken out to serve a larger purpose – the end of slavery. Thus, he slowly racked up anti-slavery measures. Slaves taken from Confederate owners were treated as contraband of war, not to be returned. Slavery was abolished in D.C. (with the former slaveowners compensated), and banned in the territories. And by late 1862, Lincoln had changed his views on the relationship between slavery and the Union altogether: He no longer thought that respecting slavery would convince the South to re-join the Union, but that attacking slavery would weaken the Confederacy internally and sap its external sources of support and would thus help to end the war and restore the Union.
Total War: Emancipation and Union
A more sweeping statement on slavery was thus necessary. With one military disappointment after another (excepting Ulysses S. Grant’s victories in the west), it would look like an act of desperation, though. Lincoln needed a success. The marginal Union victory in the battle of Antietam (which repelled a Confederate offensive on Union territory) on September 17, 1862, was as good as it would get – and so Lincoln proclaimed that the insurgent states had until January 1, 1863, to re-join the Union. Otherwise, all slaves living in states in rebellion would be freed. Of course, that had no immediate effects – after all, the thus emancipated slaves were in territories under Confederate control – but it forced the Confederacy to increase the effort to keep their slaves from running, and it effectively precluded the European powers Britain and France (pro-Confederate from the point of view of their economies and power politics, but strictly anti-slavery) to recognize the Confederacy.
The Emancipation Proclamation is a crucial event in For the People as well (which sets the game apart from earlier Civil War games, which focused almost exclusively on the movement of armies and made at best cursory references to slavery). It is one of the very few mandatory events – if the conditions are met (a Union battle victory), it must be played for the event. While it lowers the Strategic Will of the Union (reflecting the unwillingness of many northerners to fight a war for the Black people of the South), it hurts the Confederacy much more – not only in terms of Strategic Will (a further penalty will be applied henceforth every round), but also by removing some military forces (which, presumably, either are kept back to guard plantations, or cannot be supplied anymore as the fleeing slaves shrink the southern economy).
Lincoln was also done with his earlier attempt at limited war in another respect: US forces in the crucial eastern theater had been commanded by General George B. McClellan since July 1861. McClellan had mishandled them at almost every opportunity, and even when he succeeded (such as Antietam), he squandered his advantage by failing to pursue. Even his political value to Lincoln – McClellan was a high-profile Democrat – could not save him now. Lincoln sacked him, continuing his search for a general who would act aggressively, deliver battle to the Confederacy, and victory to the Union – going in succession through Ambrose Burnside, Joe Hooker, and George G. Meade.
Sacking McClellan is something that a Union player at For the People might also want to do – while McClellan’s battle rating of 0-2 (offense/defense) is not too bad, his strategy rating of 3 means his forces can only be moved when spending a powerful 3-value card – bad for any US president who means to go on the offensive! Yet McClellan’s high political value (10) makes it painful for the player to relieve him of his command, as it will incur a steep Strategic Will penalty.
McClellan where loved to be most – in command of the Army of the Potomac, the Union’s main force on the eastern theater.
1863 would mark the turning point of the war. The Confederacy meant to undermine Union morale by another large-scale incursion into Union territory. On July 1, 1863, the Confederate and Union main armies clashed at Gettysburg. After three days of bloody battle, the Confederacy retreated. One day later, Grant took Vicksburg (Mississippi) and thus put the entire Mississippi River under Union control, cutting the Confederacy in half.
Yet the war remained unpopular in the North. Only two weeks after the victories of Gettysburg and Vicksburg, riots against the draft broke out in New York. Lincoln had the draft momentarily suspended and quietly resumed a month later.
With only one more year until the presidential election, time was running out for Lincoln. The Democratic Party of the North, always split between the supporters of the war to re-establish the Union and its opponents, adopted a pro-peace platform… and selected George McClellan, whose incompetence had done so much to prolong the war, as their candidate. Lincoln had no problem securing his nomination (his control of the Republican Party was by now complete) and left it to the convention to select his running mate. They opted for Andrew Johnson, a Democrat who supported the war.
If the Union did not win great victories in 1864, Lincoln’s chances for re-election were slim. Yet there were reasons to be optimistic: Lincoln had placed Grant in command of the eastern theater, whereas Grant’s former subordinate William T. Sherman now headed the forces in Tennessee, ready to invade Georgia. Grant slowly wore down the Confederate forces in Virginia which could not bear the attrition. In the meantime, Sherman had taken Atlanta – a psychologically invaluable success which shifted the electorate’s mood in Lincoln’s favor – and marched on Savannah. Lincoln was re-elected with 55% of the popular vote and 212 of 233 electoral votes.
Now the great tasks of restoring the Union and abolishing slavery had to be brought to conclusion. While Grant and Sherman kept advancing, Lincoln worked to turn emancipation from a wartime measure to a constitutional right: The 13th Amendment would end slavery in the United States. The amendment showed not only Lincoln’s acumen in dealing with Congress, but also how much the country had changed – Lincoln had lost the 1858 Senate election on a much more moderate position than what was now to become part of the US Constitution. In his second inaugural address, Lincoln interpreted the war as a punishment for the nation’s original sin of slavery, but expressed hope for the nation to move forward together.
The Confederacy collapsed under Grant’s and Sherman’s campaigns. Confederate General in Chief of the Armies, Robert E. Lee, surrendered on April 9, 1865, with other commanders following suit. The Reconstruction of the South with the eventual goal of its re-admission to the Union and the integration of the former slaves into American society were now Lincoln’s chief tasks. Yet before he could begin to deal with the requirements of peace, he was murdered by the Confederate sympathizer John Wilkes Booth on April 14, 1865.
The Rating
Foreign policy
Lincoln left foreign policy largely to Secretary of State William H. Seward, yet intervened where necessary (for example, when the seizure of British mail ship Trent which carried Confederate envoys threatened to spark a crisis or even British intervention, Lincoln calmed the storm by releasing the envoys). He successfully forestalled foreign recognitions of the Confederacy (except by fellow slave-state Brazil), let alone military intervention on behalf of the Confederacy.
Lincoln recognized slavery as the chief obstacle to liberty in the United States. First tentatively, then boldly did he abolish the practice, resulting in the freedom of four million people. While he has been attacked for his alleged infractions on individual freedoms (most notably the suspension of Habeas Corpus), Lincoln used these measures in moderation. That Lincoln never even considered postponing the 1864 election (which he full well knew could end both his presidency and his policies) because of the war is the strongest testament to Lincoln’s deep respect for the rule of law.
Lincoln regarded economic policy as the prerogative of Congress and did not interfere with it. His own economic policy was concerned with the organization and financing of the war effort, in which he was largely successful (even though it must be said that the economic basis of the Union was much stronger than that of the Confederacy).
Rating: 4 out of 5.
Vision
Lincoln’s vision of the United States was that of a country which was no longer “a house divided against itself.” While his own preference would have been to contain slavery and let it extinguish by itself in the South, the secession both enabled and required him to take firmer measures. Besides ending slavery, Lincoln laid the foundations during the Civil War for the United States to be a unified country, largely centrally administered, rather than a collection of individual states, and thus prepared the country’s 20th century predominance. Not least of all, Lincoln’s unmatched rhetorical prowess allowed him to interpret political events in memorable language which shapes American thinking until today.
Lincoln was a Washington outsider. Before his presidency, he had only spent two years in federal politics. Still, he quickly developed a productive working relationship with Congress and his cabinet – all the more remarkable as Lincoln’s Secretaries were not selected for their loyalty and subservience, but came from the heavyweights which had competed for the 1860 presidential nomination (including Secretary of the Treasure Chase and Secretary of State Seward). Lincoln’s legacy is remarkable as well: He established the nascent Republican Party as the dominant political force which would win twelve of the next 16 presidential elections.
Lincoln respected the boundaries of his office and did not attempt to extend his influence into areas which were thought to be Congress’s province. The goodwill he extended to people of the most diverse backgrounds and convictions is legendary. Lincoln placed himself at the service of the Union – a nation he came to understand as larger than before, including four million heretofore disenfranchised slaves.
Rating: 5 out of 5.
Overall
Abraham Lincoln faced challenges like no other American president. The secession and Civil War were both a struggle for survival of the United States against those who would not accept the democratic process and a moral crucible which would resolve the awkward question of slavery after 80 years of failed attempts to skirt it. Lincoln met these challenges head on and with resounding success. He jumps to the top of the ranking – and it’s not even close.
How would you rate Lincoln? Let me know in the comments!
Further Reading
For an accessible biography of Lincoln, see Gienapp, William E.: Abraham Lincoln and Civil War America. A Biography, Oxford University Press, Oxford 2002.
For a “biography of the mind” of Lincoln, situating him in the intellectual currents of his time, see Guelzo, Allen C.: Lincoln. A Very Short Introduction, Oxford University Press, Oxford 2009.
For an overview of how Civil War games treat the causes of the war, slavery, and emancipation, see Wallace, Alfred: The War in Cardboard and Ink. Fifty Years of Civil War Board Games, in: Kreiser Jr., Lawrence A./Allred, Randal: The Civil War in Popular Culture. Memory and Meaning, University Press of Kentucky, Lexington, KY 2014, pp. 175—89.
You know the drill: We’re assessing a (democratic) leader, illustrated with a single board game! Today’s subject is another German chancellor – Konrad Adenauer, the first chancellor of the Federal Republic of Germany. And which game could be more appropriate for him than Wir sind das Volk! (Richard Sivél/Peer Sylvester, Histogame) plus the 2+2 expansion?
Some caveats ahead: The chancellors will be rated by the knowledge of their time. If they or their contemporaries could not have known about the effects of something, I will not use my hindsight to mark it as a mistake of theirs. The assessment is focused on their conduct as chancellor, but includes their life after holding the office (in which they will still be regarded in the public eye as (ex-)chancellors).
Now, to the system itself: There are three policy field categories (foreign, domestic, and economic policy) and three more general ones (vision, pragmatism, integrity). A chancellor can earn from one to five stars in each category (for a total sum of up to 30). In detail, the chancellor is assessed as follows:
Foreign policy: Did the chancellor increase German influence in the world and the security of Germans at home? Did the chancellor wield German power responsibly and with positive results for the regions affected (the latter counting for a greater deal in times of German power being great)?
Domestic policy: Did the chancellor increase the liberty of Germans to express themselves and to participate in the political process? Did the chancellor promote domestic security and shape the framework for fair justice dealing with offenses?
Economic policy: Did the chancellor facilitate the prosperity and economic security of Germans (including in the mid- and long-term)? Was the chancellor’s economic policy based on mutual benefit of those involved or did it unduly burden one side?
Vision: Did the chancellor have an idea of what Germany and Europe (the latter counting for more in times of German influence being great) should look like beyond the immediate future? Did the chancellor’s policies steer Germany (and, if applicable, Europe) in this direction?
Pragmatism: Did the chancellor succeed in seeing their policy through from inception to completion? How well did the chancellor manage the support from parliament, society, the administration, the media (the latter counting for more in more recent years)?
Integrity: Did the chancellor understand the office as a means to benefit themselves, special interest groups, the entire country, or another community? Did the chancellor respect the boundaries of the office?
Note: If you have read my UK prime minister or US president ratings, you will remember that I rated them on the global impacts of their vision as well. As the rating system is only really applicable to democratic leaders and no democratic German leader ever had the chance to conduct a truly global policy, I only assess their vision on national and European grounds.
Adenauer’s Life
Early Years
Konrad Adenauer was born on January 5, 1876, in a Rhenish bourgeois family. He and his brothers were the first in the family to attend a university. After a few years working in public service and at a law firm, Adenauer turned to local politics. As he had a foot in both confessional/political camps (his own family was devoutly Catholic, his wife came from one of the old liberal Protestant families), Adenauer secured a broad majority for his election as Deputy Mayor of Cologne in 1906.
Adenauer rose quickly in municipal administration, both by his diligent, energetic service and his family connections – his wife’s uncle Ludwig Wallraf had been elected Lord Mayor in 1907. When Wallraf was called to serve in the Reich administration in 1917, Adenauer was elected Lord Mayor of Cologne.
Lord Mayor of Cologne
His years at the helm of the city were turbulent. Just a year after his election, the double quake of Germany’s defeat in World War I and the German Revolution of 1918/19 sent shockwaves through the country. Adenauer himself put out tentative feelers to France, if the west of Germany could become an independent country (giving the French a buffer state to Germany). The Allies, however, forged a different agreement in their negotiations at Versailles. During the crisis year of 1923, Adenauer made another attempt at Rhenish separatism, which faltered as the crises were resolved by Gustav Stresemann’s government.
Adenauer was an energetic Lord Mayor whose legacy can still be seen and felt in Cologne – the “green belt” of parks around the city center (formerly a ring of fortifications), the university, and one of the bridges over the Rhine are his creations. He used a pragmatic government style, adding to his own power base of the Catholic Zentrum (Center) party whichever other factions would give him a majority for his projects – Liberals, Social Democrats, and in the case of the bridge even the Communists.
Adenauer’s many expensive projects put Cologne in a financial squeeze when the Great Depression reduced revenue and cut off access to international credit. He applied himself to bettering the city’s financial situation with mixed success.
When the Nazis took power in 1933, they removed him from his post. Adenauer, now aged 57, entered private life. For the next twelve years, he would distance himself both from the Nazis and the anti-Nazi resistance.
The Path to the Chancellorship
In 1945, the Allies had need of men like Adenauer – experienced in government, not a Nazi, and a reliable proponent of democracy and market economy. He was reinstated as Lord Mayor of Cologne. His tenure, however, was cut short, when the British authorities (in whose occupation zone Cologne lay) found out about his contacts with the French on the matter of – once more – establishing a separate Rhenish state.
Letting go of the mayorship was not too hard for Adenauer. It freed him up for the work of establishing a new party which was to shed the confessional limitations of the old Zentrum in favor of an all-Christian approach – the CDU (Christlich-Demokratische Union, Christian Democratic Union). Adenauer also was tapped to head the Parliamentary Council working on the Basic Law, a quasi-constitution for the new German state to be founded. Adenauer, never much of a conceptual thinker, was barely involved in the drafting, yet his political acumen was instrumental in forging the compromises behind the Basic Law.
When the Soviet Union lifted the Berlin Blockade in May 1949, the path for a German state made out of the three western occupation zones was free. The first free elections in the new Federal Republic of Germany gave no one a clear majority, but Adenauer’s CDU (plus its Bavarian allies, the CSU [Christlich-Soziale Union, Christian Social Union] came in first. In a tactically masterful campaign, Adenauer convinced his party (and then its partners) not to form a “grand coalition” with the Social Democrats, and instead govern with several smaller bourgeois parties (the liberal FDP [Freie Demokratische Partei, Free Democratic Party] as well as the nationalist DP [Deutsche Partei, German Party]). Adenauer himself was elected Chancellor on September 15, 1949.
Foreign Policy Successes
Adenauer’s first task as Chancellor was the re-integration of (West) Germany into the international community. As a first step, he negotiated the Petersberg Agreement (1949) with the Allied High Commissioners which granted the new West German state limited sovereignty. His further negotiations with the Allies were crowned by the General Treaty (1955) which made West Germany a sovereign country for most intents and purposes – special rights for the four Allied powers (Soviet Union, United States, United Kingdom, France) notwithstanding. Consequently, West Germany would have an army again, and become a member of NATO.
Adenauer’s approach of integration through giving up control did not only work for regaining sovereignty, but also in European affairs: France’s anxiety about the German heavy industry (and the French desire to gain access to more coal and steel) resulted in the formation of the European Coal and Steel Community which placed the heavy industry of the two countries (plus Italy and the Benelux countries) under supranational control – the first international agreement of that kind, and the first step toward the European Union.
While Adenauer used the opportunities presented to him, he also recognized the traps: Thus, when Stalin offered German reunification as a neutral country (with only the vaguest allusions to the nature of such a unified Germany) in 1952, Adenauer refused to take the bait and dismissed the note in concert with the Western Allies.
Wir sind das Volk! embraces ambiguity – many events can be beneficial to both sides, depending on how they are played. Yet the Stalin Note card is unambiguously a “red” event, from which only the USSR and East Germany benefit. If you are playing one of the Western powers, do it like Adenauer and play the event for the action points before the Eastern powers snatch it!
All this time, Adenauer had to contend with the opposition of the nationalist Germans and the SPD who felt that the Chancellor had become an instrument of the Western Allies, both of them grossly misjudging Germany’s negotiation position. Adenauer’s shrewd realism prevailed.
Adenauer was skilled at fusing values and interests in negotiations. While he was personally committed to German reparations to the newly-founded state of Israel for Nazi Germany’s persecution and murder of the European Jews, he did not just announce them. Instead, he had the negotiations on them run in parallel to those on Germany’s foreign debt (mostly from Marshall Plan loans, but also still from the reparations after World War I). The moral impetus of the negotiations with Israel carried over to the debt negotiations, as only an economically strong Germany could give meaningful support to the Jewish state, and so a large part of the debt repayments were postponed or cancelled altogether.
Stepping out of the shadow of the war was not only a question of reparations. Millions of Germans had been taken prisoner by the Allies. Most of them were released in the years immediately after the war, but the Soviet Union kept several thousand in camps until Adenauer negotiated their release in 1955. While he did not encounter much resistance from Soviet leader Khrushchev, the “Return of the Ten Thousand”, as the contemporary writers called it (borrowing from Xenophon) was often cited as Adenauer’s prime achievement by the Germans who lived through his administration – a symbolic end to the war.
An ambiguos event: The release of the German prisoners of war removes unrest in West Germany and increases West German prestige, but it also adds 1 to the budget of the USSR (due to the economic agreements made) and tilts the balance between the superpowers in favor of the USSR.
The Domestic Agenda
Millions of Germans had lost their homes and livelihoods in the war – be that by destruction or when they were expelled from the German East. If and how these losses should be compensated was the subject of intense public debate. Adenauer opted for a tax of fifty percent of the value of property of owners who had not suffered any losses, payable in instalments over thirty years (Lastenausgleich [Burden Equalization]). The funds raised were paid out in various programs to those who had suffered material losses. While there was intense resentment on the part of property owners from the relatively untouched German West, the scheme helped integrate the millions of refugees while preserving the pre-war social order.
In the meantime, the West German economy had taken off – fuelled by the European integration as well as the increased demand for German consumer goods as the outbreak of the Korean War oriented the American economy towards war materiel, but also because the economic course of Adenauer’s administration proved successful: A generally liberal market economy was tempered by sporadic government intervention (soziale Marktwirtschaft [social market economy]).
Adenauer’s second large social project concerned retirement pensions. Retirees, already not particularly well off on the whole, had not partaken in the dynamic wage growth of the 1950s. They remained poor in an ever-wealthier society. Adenauer (against the position of the cabinet majority) pushed for pensions to be paid out of the premiums of the currently-employed (instead of those the retirees had paid themselves). When the reform was implemented in 1957, pensions were significantly increased and old-age poverty all but eliminated.
The chancellor’s willingness to atone for the crimes of his country’s past in foreign policy contrasted with his selection of staff and ministers at home: Hans Globke, whose work at the Ministry of the Interior’s Office of Jewish Affairs during Nazi times had seen him actively involved in the legal discrimination and persecution of Jews, continued his career as Chief of Staff at Adenauer’s chancellery. Adenauer’s Minister for Displaced Persons, Refugees, and War Victims, Theodor Oberländer, had even participated in Hitler’s Beer Hall Putsch of 1923 and had later advocated for the ethnic cleansing of Poland. Both selections were controversial, but Adenauer kept faith with them – Oberländer had to resign under public pressure in 1960, Globke stayed on until Adenauer’s own resignation.
Adenauer masterfully parlayed his domestic and foreign policy successes into ever-larger electoral victories in 1953 (when CDU and CSU had the majority together with the DP, but joined with the FDP in addition as well) and 1957 (when CDU and CSU won a one-party majority for the first and only time in the history of German democracy). Both times, Adenauer’s skill and ruthlessness as a campaigner were instrumental in the victories.
The Decline
After 1957, Adenauer seemed to lose his touch. His negotiations ensuring German re-armament had been masterful, but there was a gaping hole between the ambitious plans for the German army and the haphazard way in which a much more modest force was established. At the same time, Adenauer kept calling for Germany’s nuclear armament, a demand which was sure to be rejected by the Western Allies and exploited by the Soviets as a sign of the return of aggressive German militarism. Adenauer’s casual, sometimes careless treatment of the subject (he referred to tactical nuclear weapons as nothing more than an “advancement in artillery”) also increased the fear of a new, even more devastating, war within the German population.
At the same time, Adenauer’s erstwhile foreign policy acumen – and willingness to confront the Soviets – seemed to have withered. When Khrushchev threatened West Berlin again from 1958, Adenauer was half disinterested, half willing to give in. Only French, and later American firmness on the matter prevented West Berlin being turned into a neutral “free city.” Adenauer’s detached behavior – most evident after the building of the Berlin Wall in 1961 – contrasted starkly with the principled stand of Willy Brandt, Mayor of West Berlin, and Adenauer’s Social Democratic challenger in the 1961 elections.
It was somewhat surprising that Adenauer even stood for reelection in 1961 – after all, he was alreadyy 85 at the time. Two years before, he had toyed with abandoning the chancellorship and succeeding Theodor Heuss as Federal President – an office which had been designed to be largely ceremonial in the constitution, but which Adenauer wanted to turn into the political center of gravity (following de Gaulle’s example) of Germany. After Adenauer’s ambitions had damaged the office of the president, the plan was dashed by his own party, which was increasingly less willing to put up with everything Adenauer decreed.
Once more, Adenauer’s CDU/CSU won the elections, but the significant losses at the ballot box meant Adenauer had to form a coalition with the FDP again – and to promise that he would step down during the term. Before that came to happen, Adenauer and the ebullient civil society of the German democracy had their starkest clash: When news magazine Der Spiegel (The Mirror) reported on the botched rearmament, Adenauer authorized his minister of defense Franz-Josef Strauß (CSU) to push for charges of treason against the editor and journalists of the magazine. The newsroom was searched for evidence and several journalists arrested – a gross violation of the freedom of the press. Unsurprisingly, the charges had to be dropped.
Adenauer’s last initiative was an improvement of the relationship with Germany’s western neighbor France. Since the founding of the German nation-state less than a century before, the two countries had fought three devastating wars (plus countless wars between France and the German principalities before Germany’s national unification). If there was someone to bridge this “inherited enmity”, it was Adenauer – after all, he had sounded out the French about founding a French-aligned separate Rhenish state no less than three times before he took over national office, and he had cultivated a good relationship with French president Charles de Gaulle since 1958 (based on both men’s instinctive feeling that they did not receive everything that was due to them from their Anglo-American allies). Adenauer and de Gaulle concluded the Élysée Treaty in January 1963, proclaiming the friendship between the two countries (which has since taken root in a plethora of local initiatives and city twinnings). De Gaulle’s and Adenauer’s goal to challenge Anglo-American leadership of the West with the Franco-German alliance, however, failed, as Adenauer’s party only accepted the treaty once it was couched in a preamble stressing the importance of the transatlantic relationship and support for the United Kingdom joining the budding integrated Europe.
At this point, Adenauer had lost his party. While he tried to maneuver for a succession to his liking, the party’s parliamentary group was not willing anymore to accept his authority. Of the four men considered chancellor material, they selected the one least to Adenauer’s liking – Minister of the Economy Ludwig Erhard. Adenauer resigned on October 15, 1963.
While retired from the chancellorship, he remained party chairman of the CDU. He spent his last years writing his memoirs and – behind the curtain as well as publicly – undermining his unloved successor, whose resignation in 1966 he still lived to see. Konrad Adenauer died on April 19, 1967, aged 91.
The Rating
Foreign policy
Foreign policy was always Adenauer’s focus – he even acted as his own Foreign Secretary from 1951 to 1955. The immense successes of the early years – Germany’s shedding of its pariah status, its firm integration into the West, and the foundations for European integration – are arguably the most impressive feat in the history of German foreign policy. Yet Adenauer’s later foreign policy seemed fickle and his resolve weakened. The chaotic nature of the rearmament process also wasted potential for increased security. Even his last success – the Élysée Treaty – was a mirage, as the personal (instead of institutional) framework of the agreement was quickly dashed by his successor.
Konrad Adenauer was the first chancellor of the newly democratic Germany. Yet his own position to democratic values was distanced, at times tactical. The reappearance of former Nazi officials in high government positions and his unwillingness to confront the Nazi crimes domestically meant that wrongs continued to go unchecked – for example in the law courts, which, supported by Adenauer’s government, quickly re-established their old personnel. Adenauer saw personal liberties as subject to the state’s (or the government’s interests) – most clearly evidenced in the Spiegel scandal. The societal climate of Adenauer’s Germany fell behind the more liberal Weimar Republic decades before.
Rating: 1 out of 5.
Economic policy
The best economic course was subject to intense debate in the mid-20th century: Adenauer’s own party adopted a platform of nationalizing banks and heavy industry in 1946; most of the cabinet members (including the pro-business FDP and Minister for the Economy Ludwig Erhard) favored a pure private-business market economy. Adenauer steered a middle course against tough opposition, establishing a dynamic market economy tempered by comprehensive social reforms. This admirably successful model has since shown weaknesses of its own (especially due to the demographic development), but none that could have been apparent at the time of its creation.
Rating: 5 out of 5.
Vision
Adenauer was a tactician rather than a strategist, seizing opportunities as they arose. Yet in 1949 he was the right man for the time whose unorthodox thinking was just right for the situation. Thus, he was able to establish many of the fundamental tenets of the new state which persist until today – from integration into the West and a particularly close relationship with France to the commitment to Israel. He also shaped the way in which politics are conducted in Germany – then as now focused on the chancellor.
When Adenauer’s name was mentioned as a potential first chancellor and his fellow CDU members wondered if he was not too old at 73, Adenauer told them that his doctor had assured him he would still be fit for office for “another two or three years”. In the end, he ruled Germany for 14. During that time, he dominated the political process in the country in an almost-continuous loop of parlaying political success into electoral victories and electoral victories into domination over issues and allies alike. Only in his very last years did his grip over party and electorate wane – as evidenced by his weaker electoral performance in 1961 and his party choosing the successor he liked the least.
Adenauer’s electoral success was not only due to his eager adoption of the new methods of polling and his deft use of electoral promises – he was not beneath regularly smearing his opponents, from personal attacks (like mentioning Willy Brandt’s birth out of wedlock) over absurd exaggerations (“All Paths of Marxism Lead to Moscow,” a dig at the (strictly anti-communist!) Social Democrats) to outright inventions (Adenauer was fond of alleging that SPD candidates had accepted bribes from East Germany). At the same time, he used the German intelligence service to spy on the SPD leadership. At one point, he even funneled government money into a campaign (at the referendum for the future of the Saar). Still, in the politically fluid years of the early Federal Republic of Germany he never attempted to outright undermine democracy.
Adenauer combines stunning successes with great political and personal flaws. If Adenauer had stepped down from the chancellorship in 1957, he would go down as one of the greatest democratic leaders in history. His lackluster last years in office tarnished the greatness exhibited before, and so he places slightly behind the very top.
How would you rate Adenauer? Let me know in the comments!
Further Reading
For short overview essays on all German chancellors from Bismarck on, see Sternburg, Wilhelm von: Die deutschen Kanzler. Von Bismarck bis Merkel[The German Chancellors. From Bismarck to Merkel], Aufbau-Verlag, Berlin 2006 (in German).
For a classic, albeit somewhat hagiographic biography, see Schwarz, Hans-Peter: Adenauer (two volumes), DVA, Stuttgart 1986/1991 (in German).
The combative counter-point to Schwarz, depicting Adenauer as a shrewd tactician rather than a visionary saint, is Köhler, Henning: Adenauer. Eine politische Biographie [Adenauer. A Political Biography], Propyläen, Frankfurt am Main/Berlin 1994 (in German).
For the context of Germany’s tumultuous history, see Herbert, Ulrich: A History of Twentieth-Century Germany, Oxford University Press, Oxford 2019.
Three years ago, I have inaugurated a new irregular series on my blog assessing the merits of UK prime ministers (illustrated through the lens of a single board game each). The rating system seemed robust enough to apply it to other countries/leaders (at least if they are more or less democratic). Thus, we branched out to American presidents and German chancellors. Today’s subject is the rare German president with political power – Paul von Hindenburg, the second and last president of the Weimar Republic. And which game could be more appropriate for him than Weimar (Matthias Cramer, Capstone Games/Skellig Games/Spielworxx)?
The Rating System
Some caveats ahead: The presidents will be rated by the knowledge of their time. If they or their contemporaries could not have known about the effects of something, I will not use my hindsight to mark it as a mistake of theirs. The assessment is focused on their conduct as president.
Now, to the system itself: There are three policy field categories (foreign, domestic, and economic policy) and three more general ones (vision, pragmatism, integrity). A president can earn from one to five stars in each category (for a total sum of up to 30). In detail, the president is assessed as follows:
Foreign policy: Did the president increase German influence in the world and the security of Germans at home? Did the president wield German power responsibly and with positive results for the regions affected?
Domestic policy: Did the president increase the liberty of Germans to express themselves and to participate in the political process? Did the president promote domestic security and shape the framework for fair justice dealing with offenses?
Economic policy: Did the president facilitate the prosperity and economic security of Germans (including in the mid- and long-term)? Was the president’s economic policy based on mutual benefit of those involved or did it unduly burden one side?
Vision: Did the president have an idea of what Germany and Europe (the latter counting for more in times of German influence being great) should look like beyond the immediate future? Did the president’s policies steer Germany (and, if applicable, Europe) in this direction?
Pragmatism: Did the president succeed in seeing their policy through from inception to completion? How well did the president manage the support from parliament, society, the administration, the media?
Integrity: Did the president understand the office as a means to benefit themselves, special interest groups, the entire country, or another community? Did the president respect the boundaries of the office?
Note: If you have read my UK prime minister or US president ratings, you will remember that I rated them on the global impacts of their vision as well. As the rating system is only really applicable to democratic leaders and no democratic German leader ever had the chance to conduct a truly global policy, I only assess their vision on national and European grounds.
In all other ratings (UK prime ministers, US presidents, German chancellors) the subject’s life after holding the office is also assessed (for they are still seen as ex-office holders, but as a secondary consideration). This does not apply here, as – spoiler! – both Weimar Republic presidents died in office.
Hindenburg’s Life
Paul von Beneckendorff und Hindenburg was born in 1847, when Prussia was still an absolute monarchy. Like most men in his family, he opted for a military career and had his baptism of fire in Prussia’s wars of unification: He fought at Königgrätz (Sadowa) against the Austrians at age 18, at Sedan against the French three years later. The socialist Paris Commune which had been formed against both the Prussian siege of Paris and the liberal French government filled him with a horror of civil war and revolution which would influence him all his life. Back from the wars, Hindenburg enjoyed a successful career as an officer, culminating in his promotion to (full) general in 1905. In the forty years between the victory over France in 1871 and his retirement (aged 63) in 1911 he would not fight another war.
Hindenburg was recalled into active service shortly after the outbreak of World War I and placed at the head of the 8th Army, the only German force dealing with Russia’s invasion of East Prussia. At the advice of his energetic chief of staff Erich Ludendorff, Hindenburg opted for a daring counter-attack which annihilated one of the two Russian invasion armies. The actual execution of the plan was left to Ludendorff. Hindenburg’s main contribution was to remain steadfast when Ludendorff wanted to abandon the plan in the middle of the operation during one of his nervous fits – a pattern which would become characteristic for the rest of the war. Hindenburg and Ludendorff had won the most significant German victory of the early weeks of the war, and they had done so on German soil. The fundament for the myth of Hindenburg was in place.
While Hindenburg, now the commander-in-chief of the German forces on the Eastern Front, had suddenly become the most admired and revered German, the ambitious Ludendorff also urged him to demand greater influence over the course of the entire war. That embroiled the duo Hindenburg-Ludendorff in a continued rivalry with the OHL (Oberste Heeresleitung, Supreme Army Command) under Erich von Falkenhayn. Hindenburg, brought up with the values of a Prussian officer, was now routinely insubordinate to his military superior Falkenhayn, until Emperor Wilhelm II sacked Falkenhayn in August 1916 and replaced him with Hindenburg. Of course, it was once more Ludendorff, who (now as First Quartermaster General) pulled the strings.
Hindenburg and Ludendorff widely sidelined the emperor and ran Germany as a quasi-military dictatorship. However, their double role of political and military decision-makers did not come with increased effectiveness: What the politicians Hindenburg and Ludendorff demanded (a victorious peace, vast annexations, a German hegemony over Europe), the generals Hindenburg and Ludendorff could not deliver. And while the military leadership of the German armies remained strong, the political decisions lacked judgment – unlimited submarine warfare drew the United States into the conflict on the Allied side in 1917; the mishandling of relations with post-revolutionary Russia tied down German forces in the east. Hindenburg and Ludendorff gambled on a last offensive in the west in 1918 – and lost. The reserves were spent now. As the Allied armies pressed forward in a counter-offensive, making peace seemed like the best option to Germany’s military dictators.
They applied to US President Woodrow Wilson for peace – in the hope that a lenient peace based on the Fourteen Points could be obtained. Wilson, however, remained firm: On the one hand, he insisted on parliamentary government for Germany (and thus the end of the OHL dictatorship); on the other, the territorial losses and military restrictions to be applied to Germany seemed dishonorable to Hindenburg and Ludendorff. One way or the other, their desire to remain responsible for the country waned – they complained in bitter terms how they had been “stabbed in the back” by a non-supportive home front. In the end, Ludendorff resigned, but Hindenburg stayed on as the head of the OHL – but complemented with a chancellor whose power base was the German parliament. Their attempt to save the German monarchy with an orderly transition out of the war was quickly swept away by the revolting masses in the revolution of November 1918.
Now Hindenburg showed remarkable pragmatism. While the revolution was made by the Social Democrats, pariahs under the monarchy to which Hindenburg was so attached, his dislike for them was outweighed by his horror of civil war. Together with Ludendorff’s successor, general Wilhelm Groener, he placed the German army at the disposal of the new government led by Social Democrat Friedrich Ebert… with the understanding that it would be used to quell any Bolshevik unrest. The (Majority) Social Democrats thus were able to complement their political dominance over the more left-leaning Independent Social Democrats with the hard power of the army and usher in a parliamentary republic.
The pact between Ebert and Groener allowed them to put down socialist revolutionaries. Note that the game event (which is a SPD card) could also be used against a right wing uprising!
As with Ludendorff, Hindenburg let Groener fill the active role in their partnership while providing the myth surrounding his person. Groener and he made sure that the army, still spread out from France to Ukraine, returned in an orderly fashion. When the Treaty of Versailles was offered to the German government, Hindenburg personally understood that there was no alternative to it – Germany could not have renewed the war with the Allies. As he felt the Treaty was humiliating, though, he left it to Groener to advise the government to accept.
The “stab-in-the-back myth” contributed to the re-legitimation of the German right wing after World War I.
Once the Treaty was signed, Hindenburg retired to private life, but remained immensely popular, a beacon of the anti-republican Germany. When he stated at the parliamentary committee of inquiry dealing with the end of the war that the German army, “undefeated in the field” had been “stabbed in the back,” (by whom exactly, he did not specify – listeners felt free to fill in the blank with their preferred choice of enemy, usually “the Jews” or “the Socialists”) it gave the myth a quasi-official sanctioning.
His relationship with the German right, however, was rather complicated. Hindenburg was close with some members of the DNVP (Deutschnationale Volkspartei – German National People’s Party), but never became a party member. He did join the ideologically similarly inclined Stahlhelm (Steel Helmet) association of former soldiers, though. He condemned both major right-wing coup attempts of the early Weimar Republic – reluctantly in the case of Kapp and Lüttwitz, forcefully in the case of his former partner Ludendorff with the upstart demagogue Adolf Hitler.
When president Friedrich Ebert died in 1925, lesser men had to fill his shoes. None of the various candidates running in the first round of the presidential election came close to a majority by themselves. Coalition building was the order of the day now. The pillars of the republican order (Social Democrats, (Catholic) Center, and left-leaning Liberals) would put the Center candidate Wilhelm Marx forward as a joint candidate. While the right-leaning Liberal candidate Karl Jarres had received the most votes in the first round, the parties of the right feared that he would not be able to stand against a united republican camp. The constitution, however, allowed for candidates to be entered in the second round who had not been running in the first. And which candidate would, on merit of his personality, have a better chance than the old war hero, the victor of Tannenberg?
Hindenburg electrified a certain part of the electorate. Others criticized his closeness to the old monarchy (Hindenburg had sought approval from the exiled Wilhelm II before running, but denied this), his lack of experience with parliamentary politics, and his age (he was 77 already, and would be 84 by the end of his term). Hindenburg was elected in the second round with a plurality of the votes.
Hindenburg has the best chances to be elected president in Weimar – and will give the slow-starting DNVP a great boost when in office.
The election of a Reichspräsident is one of the turning points in a game of Weimar: The winner receives the very powerful Reichspräsident card which allows the player to use one of their cards twice every turn. As you only hold five cards each turn, being president thus guarantees you to be 20% more effective! In the game, Hindenburg acts as the candidate for the DNVP (which is an amalgam of various nationalist groups extending beyond the DNVP proper). His chances to win are typically pretty good, as the DNVP has many opportunities to place more party bases early in the game… and, as the DNVP typically does not score a lot of points in the early game, other players might also be more likely to cast their votes for Hindenburg in the second round of the election.
Early in his term, Hindenburg surprised many of his critics: Despite his background, he kept within the confines of the republican constitution (and declared publicly that he did not seek a return to monarchy), despite his inexperience, he immediately found a role in the political process (for example, it was his stern intervention that brought the quarrelling parties to form a government in 1926), and despite his age, he did not seem to lack vigor.
Hindenburg even showed his trademark pragmatism: When Hans von Seeckt, the chief of the German army, invited a Prussian prince to an army exercise, Hindenburg promptly sacked him to avoid tensions with the Allies. And when the Social Democrats won the 1928 parliamentary elections and formed a “grand coalition” government with the Center and the Liberals, Hindenburg worked well with them.
Yet his old networks persisted, and in the eyes of the monarchists, the military men, the aristocratic magnates of the old Prussia, it was clear that the Social Democrats, no, the whole parliamentary system needed to go. As Hindenburg grew older and relied more on his advisers (chief of them his son Oskar and Kurt von Schleicher from the Army Ministry), his attachment to the parliamentary, constitutional system lessened. When the Social Democratic Chancellor Hermann Müller opposed an agricultural aid package from which the aristocratic magnates would benefit most, Hindenburg decided it was time for a change in government. Together with Oskar and Schleicher, he sounded out the parties on the political right to form a minority government which would not act through parliament, but through presidential emergency decrees. They were intrigued.
The last Weimar Republic government which had a parliamentary majority broke apart in 1930 – ostensibly over a rather minor disagreement regarding the budget for unemployment insurance (by then, Germany was in the throes of the Great Depression). The schemers behind the scenes quickly put up a new minority government led by Heinrich Brüning from the right wing of the Center. Brüning would spend the next two ears trying to combat the crisis with a deflationary policy exacerbating the economic woes of the country. The Social Democrats opposed Brüning and, when he couldn’t get a majority for his budget, forced new elections in September 1930. Neither they nor the government succeeded at the polls, though – instead, the Nazi Party leaped from a fringe group to the second-strongest force in parliament (behind the Social Democrats). Brüning continued his minority government based on presidential executive orders.
Hindenburg and Schleicher regarded the Brüning experiment with ever less enthusiasm, and sought to push the government to the right – but they could not find the partners for such an enterprise yet: The DNVP refused to join the government coalition, and Hindenburg dismissed the Nazi Party because of his assessment of Hitler as too vulgar (understandable) and socialist (confusing his positions with those of the “national revolutionaries” in the Nazi Party). Hindenburg even gave in to Brüning’s and Groener’s (now Army Minister) pressure to outlaw the SS and SA Nazi paramilitary forces to stop the ever-increasing political violence in the streets.
After the seven years of his first term ended, Hindenburg, now aged 84, stood for re-election 1932. His main opponent would be Hitler. The parties who had supported Marx in his failed bid of 1925 had no candidate who could match the charisma of the other two – and so the left-leaning and centrist democratic parties rallied around Hindenburg. One would suppose that this would ensure a blowout victory – yet most of Hindenburg’s old supporters on the political right, concentrated in the rural, Protestant areas of Germany, defected to Hitler. Hindenburg won 53% of the vote in the second round and remained president.
Schleicher then pushed for a new, entirely non-parliamentary government, and when Brüning proposed a plan to settle derelict agricultural land in the east with the unemployed (to the detriment of the aristocratic owners), Hindenburg agreed that it was time for change. He dismissed Brüning, and, advised by Schleicher, appointed Franz von Papen (no party affiliation) chancellor. Papen was to govern with a cabinet of aristocrats which had no parliamentary basis whatsoever – the Cabinet of Barons.
Papen and Schleicher both courted the Nazis, but disagreed on the methods: Schleicher wanted to split the Nazis by allying with its “national revolutionary” wing; Papen (supported by Hindenburg) lifted the ban on SS and SA, ostensibly to decrease political tensions. The opposite happened: Nazi paramilitaries started a riot with Communist supporters in the working-class Hamburg suburb of Altona in which several people were killed. The fear of political violence provided a pretext for forceful government action: When there was no government majority after the state elections in Prussia, Hindenburg authorized Papen by executive order to depose the acting state government of the democratic parties (an open breach of the constitution).
Papen, however, had maneuvered himself into a dead end. His attempt of governing detached from parliament ignored the political will of the German people: Some of them might prefer the Nazis, others the Social Democrats, the Communists, or the Center – but barely anyone supported Papen, as the parliamentary election of November 1932 showed. Hindenburg sounded out all parties from the Nazis to the Liberals (but not the Social Democrats or the Communists), but failed to find a workable government.
Another solution had to be found. Schleicher convinced Hindenburg to sack Papen and took over as chancellor himself. His attempt to form a cross-ideological front of the army, the trade unions, and the “national revolutionary” Nazis made the established elites uneasy. Papen took his revenge by agreeing with Hitler on a coalition government – headed by Hitler, but with only a few Nazi ministers. Papen convinced Hindenburg that this was the way to tame the Nazis: Use their popular support while demystifying them as they got bogged down in the minutiae of government. On January 30, 1933, Hindenburg swore Hitler in as chancellor.
In Weimar, Nazi parliamentary rule would end the game – with all players losing. Hindenburg, playing with people of flesh and blood, rather than with wooden meeples, also seemed defeated after the Nazi takeover. He ceased resistance to Hitler and stood by him at the old church of the Potsdam Garrison in a symbolic merger of the old and the new national movement. In the meantime, the Nazis dismantled the democratic order. Paul von Hindenburg died on August 2, 1934. No new president was elected. Instead, Hitler acted as joint head of state and government – Führer und Reichskanzler.
The Rating
Foreign Policy
Hindenburg generally supported the government position on foreign policy, which aimed at shedding the restrictions of the Versailles Treaty and re-admittance of Germany as a fully equal great power. He did misjudge at times how to achieve these goals – for example, he thought that the League of Nations would put additional shackles on Germany (unlike foreign minister Stresemann, who realized the League’s potential to adjudicate conflicts which were before handled directly between Germany and the Allies).
Hindenburg was not particularly interested in domestic policy and left it largely to the chancellors and their ministers. Whenever he did get involved, however, it was to detriment of the freedom of the German people: His initial refusal to outlaw SS and SA contributed to the rise of political violence, as did his speedy cancellation of the ban after only three months. The subsequent Strike on Prussia was the most obscene breach of the constitution before the Nazis dismantled it altogether – without encountering resistance from Hindenburg, whose credibility with the military, administrative, and business elites might have prevented their walkover.
Once more, Hindenburg largely went along with the policies of his chancellors. In the case of Brüning’s attempt to combat the recession with the tightening of spending, that was catastrophic. Whenever Hindenburg attempted to leave his own mark, it was in favor propping up the failing system of East Elbian agriculture in a lucrative way for the old aristocratic elites.
What did Hindenburg eventually want? – He favored monarchy over republic, but did not seek a return to it in office. He swore an oath to the constitution, but treated it ever more casually the longer he ruled. His preferences for governing with, against, or beside parliament shifted according to his chancellors and advisors. He attempted to include or exclude the Nazis at times, and eventually was swallowed by them.
Hindenburg started strong in this regard: He was instrumental in the formation of governments and got along well with parties as different as the Social Democrats and the German National People’s Party. He also got his way in the change of governments from 1930 on (even though a good deal of this was conceived rather by his son and Schleicher). Yet these tactical strokes did not lead to strategic gains, and in the end, Hindenburg outmaneuvered himself with the Nazi-led coalition government.
Hindenburg attached great importance to be regarded as above the parties, as a representative of all Germans. Yet in practice, he played favorites, most notably in his economic policy which was shaped by his close connection with the East Elbian agricultural magnates. Hindenburg could also be petty, as when he refused to visit the Rhineland and Westphalia in 1930 because the Stahlhelm had been outlawed there for their breaches of the Versailles Treaty. On a grander scale, Hindenburg tested the limits of the constitution from 1930 on with his various non-parliamentary governments… and in the end, attacked the constitution frontally in the Strike on Prussia.
Overall: Hindenburg played a complex role in the Weimar Republic. While his age and his tendency to let others plot the course of action excuse him from some of the blame, he crucially contributed to the extension of the economic woes and political violence which engulfed the republic, and directly aided the steady erosion of parliamentary rule from 1930 on. Hindenburg enters the list at the very bottom.
How would you rate Hindenburg? Let me know in the comments!
Further Reading
Hindenburg has found surprisingly little attention in recent English-language scholarship. The standard scholarly biography in German is Pyta, Wolfram: Hindenburg. Herrschaft zwischen Hohenzollern und Hitler [Hindenburg. Rule between the Hohenzollern and Hitler], Siedler, Munich 2007.
A shorter, more accessible treatment is Rauscher, Walter: Hindenburg. Feldmarschall und Reichspräsident [Hindenburg. Field Marshal and Reich President], Ueberreuter, Vienna 1997.
For the broader context, see: Herbert, Ulrich: Herbert, Ulrich: A History of Twentieth-Century Germany, Oxford University Press, Oxford 2019.
Some caveats ahead: The chancellors will be rated by the knowledge of their time. If they or their contemporaries could not have known about the effects of something, I will not use my hindsight to mark it as a mistake of theirs. The assessment is focused on their conduct as chancellor, but includes their life after holding the office (in which they will still be regarded in the public eye as (ex-)chancellors).
Now, to the system itself: There are three policy field categories (foreign, domestic, and economic policy) and three more general ones (vision, pragmatism, integrity). A chancellor can earn from one to five stars in each category (for a total sum of up to 30). In detail, the chancellor is assessed as follows:
Foreign policy: Did the chancellor increase German influence in the world and the security of Germans at home? Did the chancellor wield German power responsibly and with positive results for the regions affected (the latter counting for a greater deal in times of German power being great)?
Domestic policy: Did the chancellor increase the liberty of Germans to express themselves and to participate in the political process? Did the chancellor promote domestic security and shape the framework for fair justice dealing with offenses?
Economic policy: Did the chancellor facilitate the prosperity and economic security of Germans (including in the mid- and long-term)? Was the chancellor’s economic policy based on mutual benefit of those involved or did it unduly burden one side?
Vision: Did the chancellor have an idea of what Germany and Europe (the latter counting for more in times of German influence being great) should look like beyond the immediate future? Did the chancellor’s policies steer Germany (and, if applicable, Europe) in this direction?
Pragmatism: Did the chancellor succeed in seeing their policy through from inception to completion? How well did the chancellor manage the support from parliament, society, the administration, the media (the latter counting for more in more recent years)?
Integrity: Did the chancellor understand the office as a means to benefit themselves, special interest groups, the entire country, or another community? Did the chancellor respect the boundaries of the office?
Note: If you have read my UK prime minister or US president ratings, you will remember that I rated them on the global impacts of their vision as well. As the rating system is only really applicable to democratic leaders and no democratic German leader ever had the chance to conduct a truly global policy, I only assess their vision on national and European grounds.
Brandt’s Life
Willy Brandt was born on December 18, 1913, as Herbert Frahm. He adopted the name under which he would become famous in his Norwegian exile, after he had fled Germany to escape the Nazi persecution of socialists. Brandt returned to Germany after World War II – and also to German politics. He was elected a member of German parliament in 1949 and mayor of Berlin in 1957.
As mayor, Brandt was on the frontline of the Cold War. He weathered the Berlin Crisis of 1958 and the building of the Berlin Wall in 1961, each time acting as a symbolic bulwark of liberty against Soviet encroachment. His party, the Social Democratic SPD, nominated him for the chancellorship in the elections of 1961 and 1965. While Brandt lost each time to the Christian Democratic incumbent (first Konrad Adenauer, then Ludwig Erhard), the SPD’s share of the vote increased each time he ran.
When the coalition between the Christian Democrats and the pro-business Liberals fell apart in 1966, Brandt’s Social Democrats finally entered the federal government as part of a “grand coalition” with the Christian Democrats. Brandt became vice chancellor and foreign minister. Three years later, after another strong Social Democratic showing at the election, Brandt formed a coalition with the Liberals and was elected chancellor – the first Social Democrat since the late days of the Weimar Republic.
The new alliance with the Liberals was based on two pillars: First, both parties sought domestic reform after two decades of socially conservative Christian Democratic chancellors which had been increasingly out of touch with their modernizing, sometimes rebellious, society. Brandt was particularly sensitive to these social currents and incorporated them into his administration’s agenda, labelled “Mehr Demokratie wagen” (Take a Chance on More Democracy).
Second, Brandt had a less misty-eyed look at the division of Germany and Germany’s post-war situation than many of his contemporaries. He accepted the division as an undeniable fact and the German territories incorporated into the Soviet Union and Poland after World War II as irretrievably lost. On this basis, he sought a new understanding with the Soviet Union and East Germany as well as Poland, Nazi Germany’s first victim in World War II. This new approach – (Neue) Ostpolitik ((New) Eastern Policy), as it was called – was to bring tangible benefits to the inhabitants of both German states and effect a long-term change, which would keep the door for German reunification open and help to re-admit Germany into the international community. Brandt accompanied the treaties he made with symbolic gestures – most spectacularly, his kneeling at the Memorial of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising, widely understood to be a recognition of Germany’s guilt, symbolically taken on by a man who had not been personally guilty.
Brandt’s new foreign policy was controversial. The Christian Democratic opposition charged him with selling out the fatherland for his recognition of Germany’s post-war territorial losses. They motioned for a vote of no confidence, but failed to rally a parliamentary majority around their preferred candidate for chancellor, Rainer Barzel. Brandt called for snap elections which he turned into a plebiscite on him and his foreign policy. The electorate responded enthusiastically. Both Social Democrats and Liberals fared better than in 1969, and Brandt was returned as chancellor with an enlarged majority.
The 1972 was the high-water mark of Brandt’s chancellorship. Disagreement in the coalition about economic and fiscal policy after the end of the Bretton Woods system, during which Brandt seemed to be aloof even though two ministers of finance resigned (eventually, the ambitious Helmut Schmidt took the post), was exacerbated by the 1973 oil crisis. The increased energy costs further fueled inflation (which had been high before already), and the resulting demands for wage hikes threatened to send the country into a wage-price spiral (and, in the case of West Germany’s millions of public employees, directly affect public spending).
The coup de grace for Brandt’s chancellorship came from another direction, though. When Brandt’s aide Günter Guillaume was exposed as an East German spy, Brandt resigned on May 6, 1974. His cabinet ministers and the SPD parliamentary group did not lift a finger to stop him. Helmut Schmidt was elected chancellor, continuing the coalition with the Liberals.
Brandt remained chairman of the Social Democratic Party, in which he was still tremendously popular, until 1987. He was elected Chairman of the Socialist International in 1976 and revived this forum of the democratic socialist parties of the world.
Brandt’s foreign policy as chancellor would see itself crowned with success when the Berlin Wall came down in 1989 and Germany was reunited the year after. The intra-German détente had been instrumental in the East German leadership’s decision to quietly step down instead of cracking down on the protests as the Chinese Communists had done. Brandt was content to see it. He died on October 8, 1992, in the united Germany he had helped bring about, in the democratic Germany he had shaped.
The Rating
Foreign policy:
Brandt’s Ostpolitik was equally daring and successful. He threw out tenets of West Germany foreign policy like the iron rule of no direct talks with the East German government and the claim to the former eastern territories of Germany and instead established a new foreign policy world of German negotiations across Cold War borders. Brandt’s approach tangibly improved the life of Germans on both sides of the Wall through eased transit regulations while laying a foundation for further peaceful exchange – borders were declared inviolable (but not immutable!) – which kept the door for reunification open. At the same time, Brandt improved West Germany’s standing in the world, which helped with the country’s admittance to the United Nations in 1973 and netted Brandt the Nobel Peace Prize in 1971. Finally, Brandt re-started the Franco-German Rapprochement which resulted in the enlargement of the European Community (1973) and paved the way for the founding of the European Union.
Brandt’s far-reaching domestic reform program was ambitious. Some of his more notable projects:
The legal (and voting) age was lowered from 21 to 18, levelling the gap between civic rights and civic duties (the conscription age had already been 18)
Divorce did not require assigning guilt to one spouse anymore
Abortion was decriminalized (while technically still forbidden), a delicate compromise which persists until today
Democracy was extended from the purely political to other spheres of life, most notably by strengthening institutionalized labor representatives in companies (Betriebsräte, work councils)
The reform agenda did not only increase civic liberties, it was also crucial for integrating most of the rebellious youth of 1968 into German society. The few that turned to revolutionary violence were successfully opposed by Brandt with the centralization of the police which was instrumental to the arrest of the first generation of the RAF terrorists. In some respects, Brandt’s measures to defend democracy against radicals went too far, though: His “Radicals Decree” mandated extensive background checks on all (prospective) public servants. While theoretically ideologically neutral, the decree targeted only leftists in practice and was in stark contrast to the many former Nazi officials who had continued their careers with nary a dent after 1945.
Brandt’s economic record is mixed: On the one hand, his strengthening of labor representation in companies contributed to West Germany weathering the crisis of the mid- to late 1970s better than most other industrialized economies, and with fewer rifts in the social fabric. This mixed record is neatly exemplified by the cards representing the 1970s steel crisis on the one hand and the boom of the German car industry on the other – West Germany’s economy in the 1970s can go either way!
Despite this overall success, Brandt’s individual economic decisions were not always sound: He expanded public expenses when classical liberal, budding monetarist, and even Keynesian economics would have called for budget cuts to combat inflation. Germans were haunted by the specter of 1923. He meddled in collective bargaining, calling on the trade unions to forgo wage increases in an age of high inflation and high corporate profit increases (and, unsurprisingly, failed, further damaging his reputation in 1974).
Brandt’s economic policy is best captured in his decision to flexibilize the retirement age: While that improved the well-being of those able to retire earlier (and would help to keep unemployment in check in the economically anemic 1970s and 1980s), it put a cost on the working population and the taxpayers who had to shoulder higher expenses for pensions.
Brandt, however, offered a vision out of the economic woes: In his 1972 inauguration address, he favored improving the “quality of life” over growth or GDP numbers. This post-materialistic outlook was ahead of its time.
Rating: 3 out of 5.
Vision:
Brandt envisioned a broadly democratic, unified Germany. His domestic reform agenda helped to bring the former closer to perfection; his foreign policy laid the groundwork for the latter. Neither would have been realistically imaginable to an observer in the 1960s.
Brandt enjoyed a complex relationship with his sources of power. As West Germany’s first real media chancellor, he enjoyed a veritable hype during his first term, before the press dropped him in the second. He was popular with the electorate and able to form a lasting government coalition (which endured for another eight years after his resignation), but could not hold on to the reins under pressure: He left challenges to his leadership from the SPD parliamentary party and his ministers unchecked, something which his challengers interpreted as weakness. When he needed allies during the Guillaume affair, he had none willing to fight for him.
Rating: 2 out of 5.
Integrity:
Brandt earnestly attempted to improve life for all Germans on both sides of the Wall. His government engaged in fewer give-and-take with the traditional interest groups of West Germany (the farmers’ associations, the churches, the employers, and even the traditional trade union allies of the Social Democrats) than those of his predecessors. Still, the increased public spending of his government enabled many left-leaning liberals to carve out a niche for themselves at state-sponsored projects dear to their heart. Even though Brandt had been harshly attacked by his political opponents for having been in exile and was left in the lurch by his allies, he treated his political partners reliably and collegially, careful not to exceed the boundaries of his office. When they went low, he went high.
Rating: 4 out of 5.
Summary
Brandt’s impact much exceeds his relatively short time in office. His domestic reforms let Germany catch up with the social changes, his new foreign policy was quietly extended even by the Christian Democrats after their return to power. His shortcomings, especially his casual handling of the office, precluded a longer Brandt chancellorship and thus his chance to fully shape an era. He thus places in the top group of ranked leaders, but slightly behind the leaders of the pack.
How would you rate Brandt? Let me know in the comments!
Further Reading
For short overview essays on all German chancellors from Bismarck on, see Sternburg, Wilhelm von: Die deutschen Kanzler. Von Bismarck bis Merkel[The German Chancellors. From Bismarck to Merkel], Aufbau-Verlag, Berlin 2006 (in German).
A concise biography of Willy Brandt is Marshall, Barbara: Willy Brandt. A Political Biography, Macmillan, London 1997.
For the context of Germany’s tumultuous history, see Herbert, Ulrich: A History of Twentieth-Century Germany, Oxford University Press, Oxford 2019.
Two years ago, I have inaugurated a new irregular series on my blog assessing the merits of UK prime ministers (illustrated through the lens of a single board game each). The rating system seemed robust enough to apply it to other countries/leaders (at least if they are more or less democratic). Thus, we branched out to Americanpresidents and a German chancellor. Today’s subject is another US president – John F. Kennedy, an almost mythological figure despite – or because? – his short tenure. And which game could be more appropriate for him than 13 Days: The Cuban Missile Crisis (Asger Harding Granerud/Daniel Skjold Pedersen, Jolly Roger Games)?
The Rating System
Some caveats ahead: The presidents will be rated by the knowledge of their time. If they or their contemporaries could not have known about the effects of something, I will not use my hindsight to mark it as a mistake of theirs. The assessment is focused on their conduct as president, but includes their life after holding the office (in which they will still be regarded in the public eye as (ex-)presidents).
Now, to the system itself: There are three policy field categories (foreign, domestic, and economic policy) and three more general ones (vision, pragmatism, integrity). A president can earn from one to five stars in each category (for a total sum of up to 30). In detail, the president is assessed as follows:
Foreign policy: Did the president increase US influence in the world and the security of Americans at home? Did the president wield US power responsibly and with positive results for the regions affected (the latter counting for a greater deal in times of US power being great)?
Domestic policy: Did the president increase the liberty of Americans to express themselves and to participate in the political process? Did the president promote domestic security and shape the framework for fair justice dealing with offenses?
Economic policy: Did the president facilitate the prosperity and economic security of Americans (including in the mid- and long-term)? Was the president’s economic policy based on mutual benefit of those involved or did it unduly burden one side?
Vision: Did the president have an idea of what the United States and the world (the latter counting for more in times of US influence being great) should look like beyond the immediate future? Did the president’s policies steer the United States (and, if applicable, the world) in this direction?
Pragmatism: Did the president succeed in seeing his policy through from inception to completion? How well did the president manage the support from Congress, society, the administration, the media (the latter counting for more in more recent years)?
Integrity: Did the president understand the office as a means to benefit himself, special interest groups, the entire country, or another community? Did the president respect the boundaries of the office?
Kennedy’s Early Life
John Fitzgerald Kennedy was born on May 29, 1917. Both his paternal and maternal ancestors had played important roles in business and politics within the community of Boston’s Catholic Irish Americans – and his grandfather John Fitzgerald and father Joseph Kennedy (Sr.) envisioned that the next generation could break out of this religious/ethnic niche onto the national stage. Their hopes, however, did not rest on “Jack,” as the family called him, but on his older brother Joseph (Jr.). While Joseph (Jr.) seemed to succeed at everything he touched, Jack developed a rebellious streak at school and suffered from frail health (particularly back and intestinal problems) from a young age on.
Jack enjoyed the opportunities his privileged background offered to him: He enrolled at Harvard University and travelled through Europe. His contacts there – his father was Franklin D. Roosevelt’s ambassador to the United Kingdom – provided him with a wealth of information on the brewing crisis in Europe, which coalesced into his senior thesis attacking British appeasement policy (finished in 1940, when World War II had already begun). One year later, Japan attacked the United States at Pearl Harbor.
Britain and France had tried to attempt Nazi Germany with the Munich Agreement. One year later, they were at war with Germany anyway. This failure of appeasement informed John F. Kennedy’s foreign policy stance through his life.
Jack, still unsure about his own path in life, had entered the United States Naval Reserve just weeks before the attack. He now zealously took up his service in the hopes that his military prowess would support Joseph (Jr.)’s later political career. While his physical state would have still prevented him from a frontline role, his father pulled some strings to have him assigned to the command of a patrol torpedo (PT) boat, one of the few parts of the Navy enjoying success against the Japanese early in the war.
From April 1943 on, Jack commanded PT-109 in the South Pacific. In August of that year, his boat collided with a Japanese destroyer and was cut in half. Jack and his crew swam to an island several miles away from the wreckage, with Jack towing one of the injured sailors by the strip of a life vest he held between his teeth. They swam out to find help in the following days, until they encountered a native with a canoe whom they entrusted with a message to bring to the American forces nearby. The stranded were rescued after seven days on the island, and the story immediately garnered lots of press attention. Jack became a war hero.
As Jack had injured his back again during the collision, he spent most of the rest of the war receiving medical treatment and was decommissioned in March 1945 already – half a year after Joseph Jr. had died flying an experimental plane in the European theater of operations. Jack was now the heir to the Kennedy ambitions.
The Congressman
After a brief stint in journalism, Jack Kennedy ran for Congress in 1946 and was elected to the House of Representatives in a working-class, Catholic Boston district. Despite these local advantages, his election made some waves – after all, Kennedy’s Democrats had received a shellacking elsewhere, owing to the unpopularity of sitting president Harry S. Truman. While Kennedy was aware that his influence in the House was limited, he used his position to travel the world and get more foreign policy experience, and – helped by his large staff, paid for with his father’s financial assistance – ingratiate himself with the local voters. The House was only to be the first step for him.
In 1952, Kennedy ran against the incumbent Henry Cabot Lodge to represent Massachusetts in the Senate. While Lodge could rely on his experience and the momentum (the Republicans would win the presidential election of 1952 both nationally and in Massachusetts), Kennedy ran the more dynamic campaign. It was a family affair: His mother and sisters organized events focusing on women voters, his younger brother Robert managed the campaign, and his father bankrolled everything. Kennedy won a close race, and, at age 34, he was a United States Senator.
Many politicians have waved and smiled, but rarely has anyone done it as charmingly as John F. Kennedy.
Once more, the Senate was only supposed to be a stepping-stone. Not least importantly for a man who wanted to become president, Kennedy got married during his time in the Senate – to the glamourous Jacqueline Bouvier (Kennedy). Jack Kennedy did not introduce any remarkable legislation during his time in the Senate (and spent a good deal of time in treatment for his worsening back, taking ever more medication, and even receiving last rites at one point). He did, however, gain some national stature and made sure the voters looked upon him favorably. When the Democrats selected their presidential ticket in 1956, Kennedy ran for Vice President, but was narrowly defeated on the third ballot by Estes Kefauver. This setback might have been to Kennedy’s advantage: Democratic presidential nominee Adlai Stevenson and Kefauver went down in the worst electoral showing for a Democratic ticket in decades. The unscathed Kennedy won his own Senate reelection with the biggest landslide in Massachusetts history two years later.
The stage was set for his presidential campaign. Once more, Robert managed the campaign and Joseph Sr. funded it. Senate Majority Leader Lyndon B. Johnson was Kennedy’s toughest opponent for the Democratic nomination, yet the Texan’s appeal outside of the South was limited. Kennedy clinched the nomination and made Johnson his running mate. They faced off against sitting Vice President Richard Nixon and Kennedy’s old rival Henry Cabot Lodge on the Republican ticket. In one of the closest races of American history (the two tickets were separated by a mere 113,000 votes nationwide), Kennedy’s charm (and funds) prevailed. At age 43, John F. Kennedy was the youngest person ever to be elected President of the United States.
Early Presidential Setbacks
Kennedy dedicated himself chiefly foreign policy – by inclination, but also because the bipartisan coalition of conservative Democrats and Republicans in Congress blocked his legislative initiatives for housing, health, and tax reforms. He had inherited several crises from his presidential predecessor Dwight D. Eisenhower. Closest to home was the Cuban revolution, during which Fidel Castro had not only deposed the US-aligned dictator Fulgencio Batista, but also nationalized the assets of US enterprises. The Eisenhower administration had started planning the overthrow of Castro by an invasion of Cuban exiles, which were to be supported by CIA and US forces if necessary. Kennedy distanced himself from the planning process, but approved the operation anyway. The results of the landing in Cuba’s Bay of Pigs were disastrous. Not only did the invasion fail, it also damaged the goodwill which the nations of Latin America held toward the new president, and made Castro actively seek Soviet support to maintain his rule.
The Bay of Pigs invasion damaged American leadership in the world and narrowed foreign policy options as the United States was now locked into hostility with Cuba.
A few months after the Bay of Pigs fiasco, Kennedy first met with Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev in Vienna. Kennedy took a rhetorical beating (and Khrushchev threatened action over the divided city of Berlin). Yet while Khrushchev was concerned over the ongoing exodus from East German via Berlin, he did not want to risk war, and so he authorized the building of the Berlin Wall instead (to the relief of Kennedy). Kennedy signaled the willingness of the United States to secure the rights of the West Berliners, and thus strengthened American ties with its European allies. All the while, Kennedy worked on a military build-up to reduce US dependence on its nuclear arsenal – in his words, to give him a “wider choice than humiliation or all-out war,” the beginning of what would be called the “Flexible Response” doctrine.
Soviet plays for Berlin had been common since the immediate post-war era. In Khrushchev’s earthy language: “West Berlin is the testicle of the West. When I want the West to scream, I squeeze West Berlin.”
The military buildup was helped along by economic recovery. Unemployment receded and growth picked up while inflation was low. Then some of the large steel firms hiked their prices right after the unions had agreed to a very modest, non-inflationary pay raise. Kennedy met the challenge head on, having the FTC investigate the price fixing, the IRS launch a tax probe, and the Department of Defense announce that it would only buy from companies which had not raised prices. The firms quickly rescinded the price hike.
Civil Rights and Cuban Missiles
Civil rights were the dominant domestic issue of the day. While Kennedy insisted that Black Americans were given more opportunities and visibility in public service, he was not willing to spend political capital to advance their cause outside of the federal government. On a day-to-day basis, he was mostly concerned with the problems racial discrimination presented to his foreign policy (for example, in reaching out in the new post-colonial nations of Africa) – both the discrimination itself and the protests against it, which in Kennedy’s eyes created disharmony.
Kennedy’s attention was soon to be grabbed by foreign policy anyway: Khrushchev, emboldened by Kennedy’s weak showing in Vienna, had found a willing partner in Castro to establish a strategic balance by stationing nuclear weapons on Cuba (in Khrushchev’s own colorful imagery, “planting a hedgehog in Uncle Sam’s underpants”). That would have left the United States vulnerable to Soviet medium-range missiles. When a U-2 spy plane took pictures of the missile site, the most dangerous two weeks of the Cold War began. Kennedy almost continually met with closest advisers to explore possible responses. Initially, most of them favored an unannounced airstrike on the missile sites (possibly followed by a full-scale invasion) before the missiles were ready. Kennedy thought such a course of action would not only taint the reputation of the United States (as Pearl Harbor had done for Japan), but also entail a high risk of escalating into full-scale nuclear war with the Soviet Union. Instead, he opted for a “quarantine” – ships entering or leaving Cuban waters would be stopped and searched by the US Navy. In the meantime, he and Khrushchev exchanged letters and public announcements. Tensions ran high when US ships forced Soviet nuclear-armed submarines to surface with depth charges and when an American plane was shot down over Cuba on October 27, 1962 (“Black Saturday”). Sobered by these near-brushes with nuclear war, Kennedy and Khrushchev agreed that the missiles would be removed from Cuba (in exchange for the secret removal of the older American missiles in Turkey, which Kennedy had wanted to remove anyway).
The Cuban Missile Crisis was resolved with both superpowers’ reputation intact, yet in practice Kennedy got what he wanted without giving anything away that he would have liked to keep.
After the Cuban Missile Crisis, Kennedy pursued a policy of détente with the Soviet Union. He established a direct communications connection between the White House and the Kremlin, and in summer 1963, concluded the first nuclear test ban treaty with the Soviets.
In the meantime, the Civil Rights situation became ever more urgent. Universities now turned into flashpoints of the struggle for equal rights – federal marshals and troops had to protect James Meredith’s right to enroll at the University of Mississippi as the first black student there ever; Alabama governor George Wallace personally barred the door of the enrolment office to black would-be students at the University of Alabama. The clashed between federal and state forces, Civil Rights protesters, and segregationists escalated – state police used dogs and fire hoses on peaceful Civil Rights protesters, and segregationists bombed black churches and killed protesters. Kennedy could not evade the issue any longer. Strengthened by his successful resolution of the Cuban Missile Crisis, he threw the weight of the presidency behind the Civil Rights movement (while still urging them not to act too radically): He announced a legislative program which would provide equal access to public schools as well as the ballot box.
As his Civil Rights package went into Congress, Kennedy had to deal with another foreign policy issue: The United States had taken an ever greater role in Southeast Asia as the former colonial power France withdrew from the region. By the early 1960s, the United States propped up the deeply unpopular Southern Vietnamese regime of Ngo Dinh Diem against the challenges of Communist North Vietnam to reunify the country on their terms. An ever-growing force of American “military advisers” flowed into the country – during Kennedy’s tenure alone, their number expanded from 1,000 to 17,000. As Diem grew both more authoritarian and less effective, Kennedy authorized American tacit support for a military coup against him.
While Kennedy still explored options for Vietnam (ranging from sending more troops to pulling them out entirely) and his Civil Rights legislation was far from complete, his presidential tenure ended abruptly: On November 22, 1963, John F. Kennedy was assassinated while on a trip to shore up political support in Dallas. The circumstances of the assassination remain contested. He was only 46 years old.
The Rating
Foreign policy:
Kennedy’s tenure began with the Bay of Pigs disaster and ended with the crisis in Vietnam out of which America’s greatest military defeat would develop. There were, however, no US combat forces in Vietnam when Kennedy was in office, and we can only speculate if he might have failed as abjectly in resolving the issue as his successors. In between these bookends, Kennedy’s foreign policy was successful – he made the American toolbox to deal with security crises more flexible, strengthened the relationship with the European allies and reached out to the newly decolonized nations of Africa, resolved the single greatest challenge of the Cold War (the Cuban Missile Crisis) both peacefully and advantageously for the United States, and initiated the détente with the Soviet Union which would permanently lessen the risk of nuclear war.
Rating: 4 out of 5.
Kennedy’s only summit with Khrushchev was a failure, but the young president learned from it and pursued a pretty successful foreign policy afterward.
Domestic policy:
Kennedy was a latecomer to the dominant domestic policy issue of the day. While he supported Civil Rights verbally and in the federal government, he saw it otherwise as a distraction which would drain political capital from more important tasks like foreign policy. Only when the situation in the South had made a massive federal intervention inevitable did Kennedy rise to the occasion. He was unable to pass Civil Rights legislation before his death.
Rating: 2 out of 5.
Only late in his tenure did Kennedy realize that responding to protests was not necessarily a nuisance, but could provide momentum for policymaking.
Economic policy:
As with Civil Rights, Kennedy was no successful legislator in matters of economic policy. The cross-party conservative coalition in Congress defeated his early initiatives. Yet the American economy was fundamentally sound and did not need major legislation. When presented with the biggest economic challenge – the steel price hike – Kennedy met it firmly, and the specter of inflation fueled by corporate greed was defeated.
Rating: 4 out of 5.
Vision:
Kennedy came to the presidency by personal ambition rather than ideological conviction, and his approach to the office was decidedly tentative. He held varying positions on the same topic over time – from Vietnam to Cuba – and shifted his priorities ad hoc (for example with Civil Rights). In his short tenure, he did not develop any policy hallmark – yet it is conceivable that détente with the Soviet Union might have become just that.
Rating: 2 out of 5.
Pragmatism:
Here Kennedy’s performance is ambiguous. On the one hand, Kennedy’s skill as a legislator were minimal. He never got a good grasp on Congress (despite his own fourteen years of experience there) and was unable to secure any major legislation. On the other hand, Kennedy’s winning personality ensured popular support for himself (even when his policies failed, for example the Bay of Pigs invasion). He thrived in the modern politics-media environment to whose establishment he contributed – as the winner of the first televised presidential debate as well as the inaugurator of the free-flowing, question-and-answer presidential press conference.
Rating: 3 out of 5.
Kennedy was a gifted communicator, and beloved by the electorate. He has both the highest average job approval of any US President since polling began in 1945 (70%), and the highest floor (never polling below 56% approval, which is better than most presidents’ average).
Integrity:
During the 1960 presidential election campaign, many of Kennedy’s political opponents alleged that he would be beholden to his Catholic and Irish-American brethren, or even a puppet of the Pope. None of this turned out to be true. Nonetheless, Kennedy regarded politics a little too much as a family business – naming his brother-in-law Sargent Shriver head of the Peace Corps and his brother Robert Attorney General (a practice which has since been made unlawful).
Rating: 2 out of 5.
Overall:
In the words of Kennedy’s biographer Robert Dallek, his life was “unfinished.” So was his presidency. Public opinion, of course, is not bound by the confines of historical scholarship, and in this sphere, Kennedy lives large as the promise of a youthful, vigorous, optimistic America, not yet tainted by the disaster of the Vietnam War, or the Watergate Scandal. Historical scholarship, however, is left to assess Kennedy’s short, and sometimes contradictory time in office. Here Kennedy shows himself to be a president whose flashes of brilliant leadership (most notably during the Cuban Missile Crisis) are not the norm, but the exception in an overall solid presidency.
How would you rate Kennedy? Let me know in the comments!
Further Reading
Dallek, Robert: An Unfinished Life. John F. Kennedy 1917—1963, Little, Brown and Co., Boston, MA 2003.
As always when it comes to American presidents of the 20th century, see the respective chapter in Leuchtenburg, William E.: The American President. From Teddy Roosevelt to Bill Clinton, Oxford University Press, Oxford 2015, pp. 386-424.
For a quick introduction to the Cuban Missile Crisis, see Hershberg, James G.: The Cuban Missile Crisis, in Westad, Odd Arne/Leffler, Melvyn (eds.): The Cambridge History of the Cold War. Volume 2. Crises and Détente, Cambridge 2010, pp. 65—87.
A detailed treatment of the crisis can be found in Fursenko, Aleksandr/Naftali, Timothy: „One Hell of a Gamble“: Khrushchev, Castro, and Kennedy, 1958—1964, John Murray, London 1997.
Last year, I have inaugurated a new irregular series on my blog assessing the merits of UK prime ministers (illustrated through the lens of a single board game each). The rating system seemed robust enough to apply it to other countries/leaders (at least if they are more or less democratic). Thus, we branched out to an American president and a German chancellor. Today’s subject is another US president – Harry S. Truman, the first Cold Warrior in the White House. And which game could be more appropriate for him than Twilight Struggle (Ananda Gupta/Jason Matthews, GMT Games)?
The Rating System
Some caveats ahead: The presidents will be rated by the knowledge of their time. If they or their contemporaries could not have known about the effects of something, I will not use my hindsight to mark it as a mistake of theirs. The assessment is focused on their conduct as president, but includes their life after holding the office (in which they will still be regarded in the public eye as (ex-)presidents).
Now, to the system itself: There are three policy field categories (foreign, domestic, and economic policy) and three more general ones (vision, pragmatism, integrity). A president can earn from one to five stars in each category (for a total sum of up to 30). In detail, the president is assessed as follows:
Foreign policy: Did the president increase US influence in the world and the security of Americans at home? Did the president wield US power responsibly and with positive results for the regions affected (the latter counting for a greater deal in times of US power being great)?
Domestic policy: Did the president increase the liberty of Americans to express themselves and to participate in the political process? Did the president promote domestic security and shape the framework for fair justice dealing with offenses?
Economic policy: Did the president facilitate the prosperity and economic security of Americans (including in the mid- and long-term)? Was the president’s economic policy based on mutual benefit of those involved or did it unduly burden one side?
Vision: Did the president have an idea of what the United States and the world (the latter counting for more in times of US influence being great) should look like beyond the immediate future? Did the president’s policies steer the United States (and, if applicable, the world) in this direction?
Pragmatism: Did the president succeed in seeing his policy through from inception to completion? How well did the president manage the support from Congress, society, the administration, the media (the latter counting for more in more recent years)?
Integrity: Did the president understand the office as a means to benefit himself, special interest groups, the entire country, or another community? Did the president respect the boundaries of the office?
Truman’s Life
Harry S. Truman was born on May 8, 1884 as the son of Missouri farmers. He took a few classes at a local business school, but remains the only US president of the 20th and 21st century to not have attended college. After a few years of odd jobs, he returned to help on his parents’ farm. As he had political ambitions, he joined the National Guard in 1905 and volunteered for service during World War I.
Back from the war, Truman opened a haberdashery (which went bankrupt in 1921) and was elected county judge (in 1922). His political career was tied to Tom Pendergast’s political machine. Over the course of the following years, he struggled both economically and politically. His fortunes only improved when he was named Missouri’s director for the Federal Re-Employment program (which got him in touch with important people from Franklin D. Roosevelt’s New Deal programs) in 1933 and was elected senator in 1934.
Truman’s first term in the Senate was unremarkable and he only barely won re-election in 1940. The following year, his career took off when he headed a special committee to investigate inefficiencies in US war production – a crucial task with war ravaging both Europe and the Pacific, which the United States would enter later that year. Truman’s reputation for honesty and efficiency recommended him to president Roosevelt who was looking for a running mate in the 1944 presidential elections. As the favorites of the two wings of the Democratic party – Henry Wallace for the liberals, James F. Byrnes for the conservatives – were anathema to the respective other wing, Roosevelt chose Truman as a non-offending alternative – the “second Missouri compromise”. Roosevelt barely met with Truman either on the campaign trail or after their successful election and kept him in the dark about his political initiatives, particularly regarding foreign policy. When Roosevelt died barely three months after the start of his term, Truman entered the presidency woefully unprepared.
His first task was the victorious conclusion of World War II. Germany surrendered only weeks after Truman’s inauguration. When soon after the first nuclear bombs were successfully tested, the United States dropped them on Japan in order to “shock” the country into surrender – a policy which Truman endorsed, but did not specifically authorize (the bomb was treated like any other weapon at the disposal of the commanders in the theater).
In the meantime, Truman grew more distant to America’s erstwhile Soviet allies. He had wanted the Soviets to join the United Nations and the war against Japan, but once they had done both, Truman took a hard line against what he perceived as Soviet expansionism. The first test of strength was Soviet refusal to leave Iran – in violation of the agreement among the Allies after their invasion of Iran in 1941, which specified that they would leave the country six months after the cessation of hostilities. Truman’s tough stance won the day by spring 1946 – but in a pattern typical for his presidency, he did not receive the credit for it among the American public.
A common sight in the first turn of Twilight Struggle: Iran is a focal point for both players if they want to contest the Middle East and have access to western Asia. …in this case, the US player used their +2 influence boost (according to competitive play standards) in Iran – a luxury which the historical Truman did not have! From the Playdek digital adaptation of Twilight Struggle.
At home, Truman was faced with the transformation of the economy back to peace time. Increased unemployment and inflation dashed the hopes for a beautiful, carefree post-war life for many Americans. Truman’s heavy-handed handling of a railroad strike – he proposed a law that would draft strikers into the army – intimidated the strikers into submission. Yet while it antagonized labor (and questioned Truman’s commitment to constitutional practices), it did not win him support among business or the middle class. Truman’s Democrats were shellacked the 1946 midterm elections.
The electoral defeat freed Truman from his obsession to walk a middle course and please everybody. Instead, he proposed the policies that he thought were right. Domestically, that encompassed a series of ambitious bills to preserve and expand civil and economic rights which he called the “Fair Deal.” Most of them were squarely defeated by a cross-aisle conservative majority in Congress, but Truman’s activity put Congress on the defensive and no further New Deal legislation was rolled back.
Truman’s greatest achievements belong to the realm of foreign policy. Faced with the challenge of possible Soviet inroads into the Eastern Mediterranean (from where the United Kingdom was about to withdraw), Truman countered with the promise of aid to any free nation which resisted subjugation – the Truman Doctrine. He backed this unprecedented American commitment to internationalism up with the European Recovery Program – or, as it was more popularly called, the Marshall Plan. (Truman was wise enough not to attach his own name to it, as his unpopularity in Congress would likely have resulted in a defeat of the proposal.) The ERP did not only help Europe in its recovery from the destruction of World War II, but also provided a welcome stimulus for the American economy on whose goods the money was spent, and it was a major PR success for the United States in the nascent Cold War with the Soviet Union. When the Soviets played hardball in 1948 and blockaded West Berlin, a western-controlled island within the Soviet occupation zone of Germany, Truman found a measured response in supplying West Berlin from the air – steering clear of both abandoning West Berlin and risking war.
Truman’s relationship with both wings of the Democratic Party had been uneasy through his tenure – the liberals disliked him for his handling of labor disputes and his tough stance on real and perceived Communists. As the Cold War developed, a second “Red Scare” swept the country. Truman, who personally did not believe that a large number of Communist spies had infiltrated federal institutions, nonetheless lent this conspiracy theory credence with the vain attempt to ward off more radical legislation on the matter by examining the loyalty of all federal employees – with “reasonable doubts” sufficient to be fired. Even though the past of five million federal employees was scrutinized, not a single Communist spy was found.
On the other hand, the conservatives, particularly those from the Democrats’ southern bastions, warily regarded his Civil Rights stance. Truman created a committee to make proposals for Civil Rights whose recommendations he endorsed. Yet only when the Southern Democrats abandoned him in the election year 1948 (and supported the segregationist Strom Thurmond instead) did he stick out his head and decreed the desegregation of the armed forces and the federal civil service.
Truman took to the campaign trail and vigorously attacked the Republicans for not supporting his domestic reform agenda. Against the predictions of the pollsters, Truman defeated his Republican opponent Thomas E. Dewey soundly, with Thurmond coming in a distant third (and defeated in most southern states as well). Truman’s inauguration in 1949 was the first to which Black Americans were invited as guests.
Truman’s second term was less eventful than his first – and less successful.
When North Korean forces crossed the 38th parallel to unite Korea by force (with Stalin’s approval), Truman faced another Cold War crisis. Truman attached an importance to it that went far beyond Korea – if such a blatant breach of the peace was not checked, it would spell doom for the rules-based peace order embodied in the United Nations. Thus, he sent in US forces to stop the Northern invasion and attained UN approval for the operation. US troops under General Douglas MacArthur blunted the offensive of the North Koreans and landed in their rear – thus throwing the entire invasion force back in disarray. As the coalition forces approached the 38th parallel, Truman disregarded Chinese warnings and authorized a crossing into North Korea. The ensuing Chinese entry into the war now caught the coalition forces off guard and forced them into an ignominious retreat. MacArthur then pressured Truman to extend the war to China – and the use of nuclear bombs. Truman refused, and as MacArthur kept defying presidential authority, relieved him of his command. For the remainder of Truman’s tenure, the Korean War would be a bloody stalemate.
Domestically, Truman did not fare better. His attempt to prevent a full-on Red Scare by the loyalty check program turned out to have failed entirely – instead Representative Joseph McCarthy levelled (unfounded) charges of Communist sympathies and activities at government officials, academics, left-leaning politicians, labor activists, and entertainers (especially in the film industry). The climate of fear which infringed on free speech also damaged the United States’ standing abroad.
Finally, another strike – this time in the steel industry – aroused the president’s anger. He seized the steel mills from their private owners to deal with the strike. This was deemed unconstitutional by the Supreme Court in April 1952. By the time of the Court’s decision, the deeply unpopular Truman had already announced that he would not seek re-election. The Democratic Party instead chose the governor of Illinois, Adlai Stevenson, as their nominee. Stevenson lost in a landslide against the Republican candidate Dwight D. Eisenhower, the general credited with winning World War II in Europe.
Harry S. Truman lived a relatively modest post-presidential life, devoting much of his time to writing his memoirs. He died on December 26, 1972.
The Rating
Foreign policy: Truman shifted from cooperation to confrontation with the Soviet Union with remarkable skill. He found adequate responses to most foreign policy crises – from the first test of strength in Iran over the Greek/Turkish crisis which prompted the Truman Doctrine to the Berlin Blockade and the North Korean invasion of the South. His rare misstep was the foolhardy decision to push further in Korea which drew the Chinese into the war.
Structurally, Truman’s influence is even more profound: Almost the entire modern US security architecture was founded by him – the US Air Force, the Department of Defense, the National Security Council, the Central Intelligence Agency and NATO.
Rating: 5 out of 5.
Domestic policy: Truman’s domestic record is mixed. While he was the first 20th century president to stick his head out for the equal treatment of Black Americans, he only turned to action after the Southern Democrats had abandoned him already. His anti-Communist loyalty checks infringed on the individual liberties of federal employees and did not achieve their goal of pre-empting more radical measures by the anti-Communist conspiracy theorists like Joseph McCarthy (and rather emboldened them). Finally, Truman’s invasive meddling in the economy – both his law to draft strikers and his seizing of the steel mills – show an instinctive preference for a security-based war presidency over individual economic freedoms.
Rating: 2 out of 5.
Economic policy: Truman faced the challenge to transform the US economy back to peace time – for which conservatives/business and liberals/labor had starkly different ideas. Truman initially attempted a middle course, but turned more liberal after his electoral victory in 1948. His Fair Deal legislation (most notably the near-doubling of the minimum wage, the expansion of Social Security to another 10 million Americans, the rural electrification programs, and the building of homes for low-income Americans) contributed to the broad prosperity of the post-war decades.
In the end, it was Truman’s foreign policy that was most influential for the economic development of the US: The Marshall Plan had shown how a further internationalization of American businesses could be profitable for them. Truman’s turn toward the security state after the outset of the Korean War led to a quadrupling of defense spending which would never again fall to the level of the inter-war years. This perpetual state of war-readiness and the resulting military-industrial complex of the United States play a crucial role for the structure of the US economy until today.
Rating: 4 out of 5.
Vision: Nobody regarded Truman as a visionary when he entered the presidency. Yet his policies captured not only the present but also the future: The Truman Doctrine, a sharp break with the American isolationist tradition, was employed for the remainder of the Cold War. Every other Cold War presidential doctrine rested on it (and usually interpreted it for a particular region). Its basic tenet – to aid free nations against attempts to subjugate them – informs US policy until today (say, in Ukraine). In practice, the Truman Doctrine resulted in the “containment” of the Soviet Union and global Communism – another basic principle of US foreign policy for the next 40 years.
Truman’s predecessor Franklin D. Roosevelt, much more a visionary in the public perception, had relied on his own personality to see through all the great breaks with political tradition. Truman, on the other hand, built the institutionalized security state which is until today the foundation of the US presidency. Despite the pivot to “security” as the new main goal of American government activity, Truman maintained the primacy of politics over the military and defeated the specter of Bonapartism when he fired MacArthur over his insubordination.
Rating: 5 out of 5.
Pragmatism: Truman’s early attempts to chart a middle path often antagonized both sides – and sometimes led to contradictions (as when he publicly endorsed both Henry Wallace’s and James F. Byrnes’s foreign policy statements which differed markedly on the matter if the Soviet Union was an ally or an opponent of the United States).
Truman was at best middling at winning public support for his initiatives. While he won the 1948 election, his Congressional allies fared badly both in 1946 and 1950, and Truman had low approval ratings through most of his tenure (excepting the honeymoon period in 1945 and his time of foreign policy glory in 1947), sometimes as low as 23%.
Despite these troubles with both Congress and the wider public, Truman could see some of his key policy initiatives through Congress despite their impulses towards isolationism and a limited role of government.
Rating: 2 out of 5.
Integrity: Truman honestly strove for the interests of the whole nation. Yet he tested the limits of the Constitution with his reaction to strikes and when he did not seek Congressional approval for the war in Korea. His appointments were often based on loyalty rather than merit (and turned out lackluster in these cases more often than not). While Truman never used the presidency to enrich himself personally, his reputation for being extraordinarily honest is rather an artifact of being compared favorably to his morally flexible successors Lyndon B. Johnson and Richard Nixon in the 1960s and 1970s.
Rating: 3 out of 5.
Overall: Despite Truman’s unassuming personality and his low popularity during his tenure, he laid the foundations for American foreign policy for decades. His many moments of foreign policy brilliance are interspersed with a mixed record at home and many individual mistakes in running the office. He was an above-average, but not great president.
How would you rate Truman? Let me know in the comments!
Further Reading
For a short and accessible biography, see Dallek, Robert: Harry S. Truman, St. Martin’s Press, New York City, NY 2008.
As always when it comes to American presidents of the 20th century, see the respective chapter in Leuchtenburg, William E.: The American President. From Teddy Roosevelt to Bill Clinton, Oxford University Press, Oxford 2015, pp. 243—326.
Some caveats ahead: The chancellors will be rated by the knowledge of their time. If they or their contemporaries could not have known about the effects of something, I will not use my hindsight to mark it as a mistake of theirs. The assessment is focused on their conduct as chancellor, but includes their life after holding the office (in which they will still be regarded in the public eye as (ex-)chancellors).
Now, to the system itself: There are three policy field categories (foreign, domestic, and economic policy) and three more general ones (vision, pragmatism, integrity). A chancellor can earn from one to five stars in each category (for a total sum of up to 30). In detail, the chancellor is assessed as follows:
Foreign policy: Did the chancellor increase German influence in the world and the security of Germans at home? Did the chancellor wield German power responsibly and with positive results for the regions affected (the latter counting for a greater deal in times of German power being great)?
Domestic policy: Did the chancellor increase the liberty of Germans to express themselves and to participate in the political process? Did the chancellor promote domestic security and shape the framework for fair justice dealing with offenses?
Economic policy: Did the chancellor facilitate the prosperity and economic security of Germans (including in the mid- and long-term)? Was the chancellor’s economic policy based on mutual benefit of those involved or did it unduly burden one side?
Vision: Did the chancellor have an idea of what Germany and Europe (the latter counting for more in times of German influence being great) should look like beyond the immediate future? Did the chancellor’s policies steer Germany (and, if applicable, Europe) in this direction?
Pragmatism: Did the chancellor succeed in seeing their policy through from inception to completion? How well did the chancellor manage the support from parliament, society, the administration, the media (the latter counting for more in more recent years)?
Integrity: Did the chancellor understand the office as a means to benefit themselves, special interest groups, the entire country, or another community? Did the chancellor respect the boundaries of the office?
Note: If you have read my UK prime minister or US president ratings, you will remember that I rated them on the global impacts of their vision as well. As the rating system is only really applicable to democratic leaders and no democratic German leader ever had the chance to conduct a truly global policy, I only assess their vision on national and European grounds.
Erhard’s Life
Ludwig Erhard was born on February 4, 1897. His parents owned a clothing store in Fürth, a city in the south of Germany. Erhard was initially destined to follow them in the business, but came back from World War I badly wounded and unable to stand for an extended period of time (as we would have had to as a store owner). He thus turned to academia and studied business. After graduating, he managed his parents’ store for a short time before it went bankrupt in 1928. Erhard then succeeded in following his academic aspirations and worked at various institutes and universities. Erhard was no supporter of the Nazi regime which took power in 1933, but conducted advisory research for them. In 1942, he failed in a bid to head his university’s institute for economics (losing to a member of the Nazi party) and was soon after forced out of the institute. He then set up his own one-man think tank, writing on how to re-build Germany’s economy after the war.
These studies – and Erhard’s relative distance from the Nazi regime – recommended him to the post-war authorities. After quick stints on the local and regional level, he was appointed Head of the Special Office for Money and Credit (and soon after Director of Economics) of the Anglo-American occupation zone in Germany. When he was informed by the Allied authorities of their decision to introduce a new currency (the Deutsche Mark) in the three western occupation zones, Erhard went ahead and also announced the lifting of price-fixing and production controls for most goods.
Economically speaking, the monetary reform and abolition of state control over the economy were not an immediate success. Prices shot up (while wages were still fixed) and unemployed quadrupled to 12%, thus, unrest (leading to a general strike) spread in West Germany. However, the abolition of price-fixing all but abolished the previously ubiquitous black markets. Erhard’s reputation thus was stellar, and the newly formed big-tent center-right party CDU (Christlich-Demokratische Union, Christian Democratic Union) invited Erhard to join forces with them. Erhard, who personally was more of a classical liberal than a conservative, joined with the intent of committing a large party to his ideas of free markets, and successfully ran for parliament on the CDU ticket in West Germany’s first national elections in 1949. Erhard then became Minister for the Economy in the new administration, a post he would hold for the next fourteen years.
Early in Erhard’s tenure, economic success blossomed: The outbreak of the Korean War in 1950 re-committed the American economy to war production – and West Germany seized the opportunity to produce the civilian goods not made in America anymore. The West German economy boomed. Unemployment fell. Wages rose. Exports grew manifold. And Erhard, who steadfastly (but not always successfully) defended his liberal economic principles against any attempts to introduce more state intervention, became the lucky charm of the German “economic miracle”.
Erhard’s corresponding popularity made him a natural contender for the succession of West Germany’s first chancellor Konrad Adenauer. When Adenauer finally resigned in 1963 (aged 87), the CDU and its allies in government elected Erhard as the new chancellor. Erhard, never a politician’s politician, refrained from domestic initiatives. His foreign policy was based on the attempt to align West Germany closer with the United States and Great Britain at the expense of the cordial Franco-German relationship his predecessor had built. Erhard won a resounding electoral victory in 1965, but his relationship with his own party remained frail. When a mild recession hit West Germany and the budget was threatened by Erhard’s earlier commitment to payments to the United States and Britain to make up for the spending of their troops stationed in Germany (the “offset arrangement”), his government broke down (1966). Erhard was forced to resign. The new government which was based on the CDU and the long-time oppositional Social Democrats elected Kurt Georg Kiesinger as his successor. Erhard retired to a quiet life, but remained a member of parliament until his death on May 5, 1977.
The Rating
Foreign policy:
Erhard’s only field of ambition during his chancellorship – and also the area of his most obvious failure. His pivot away from France damaged the Franco-German relationship and European integration (which he, against his general economic principles, did not seek anyway). On the other hand, Erhard could not make good on his aim to improve German-American relationships – his professed dislike for France took any kind of lever out his hand, and his willingness to accede to American demands (like promising full payment in the offset arrangement) did not result in any favors in return from the United States (the key prize would have been if America had continued to seek a Multilateral Force with nuclear weapons – which would have resulted in Germany’s nuclear sharing).
Erhard did not start any domestic policy initiatives and ignored the growing societal pressures beyond his favorite topic of the economy. In the rare cases that such topics were forced onto him, Erhard, to his credit, deviated from the previous course of German policy which had been to largely ignore the Nazi crimes: When he found out that his Minister for Displaced Persons, Refugees, and War Victims had been an active Nazi party functionary, Erhard forced his resignation (in a striking difference to his predecessor Adenauer, who kept his Chief of Staff for ten years despite the man’s well-known involvement in drafting the Nazis’ laws prosecuting German Jews).
As German law knew a statute of limitation preventing criminal prosecution after twenty years, all Nazi crimes would have gone unpunished from 1965 on. Erhard was in the minority of government members who wanted to extend the period of prosecution. Parliament passed an extension with a mixed-party majority – Erhard, however, had nor been able to convince his own government colleagues and was not instrumental in securing this majority.
Rating: 2 out of 5.
Economic policy:
Another policy field of Erhard inaction – this time, however, by design. Erhard’s liberal economic credo kept him from intervening in the economy. That was defensible in the narrow view – economic activity in the short term – but defective otherwise: Erhard knew (more than a year before the budgetary crisis of 1966) that the economic downswing lowered public revenue while his promises concerning the offset arrangement would raise expenses. Erhard thus brought the budgetary crisis, over which he’d fall, onto himself. In the longer term, Erhard’s torpedoing of European integration denied the German economy export markets and delayed the innovation stimulus of increased competition.
Rating: 2 out of 5.
Vision:
Erhard’s overarching vision in life was to allow free individuals to pursue their ambitions in a market economy – but when he entered office, he felt the preconditions for that were already achieved (a debatable claim). Thus, his policy mostly consisted of staying the course. He did pitch a foreign policy plan to refuse the Soviet Union loans and then “buy” German reunification when the Soviet economy collapsed, but was met with (justified) bewilderment by both his domestic and foreign interlocutors. Domestically, his only contribution which went beyond the immediate needs was his idea of a “Formed-Up Society” in which both egoism and pluralism would be overcome – an idea that he brought up during the 1965 election campaign and did not return to afterward.
Rating: 2 out of 5.
Pragmatism:
Likely Erhard’s weakest suit. While he did not attempt much, what he attempted usually fell flat because Erhard was unable to secure support for it (or because he wavered and dropped it in the face of resistance). He had lost his own party’s support for his foreign policy within his first year in office. Their support for his domestic activities (or, rather, the lack thereof) withered soon after. Particularly instructive is the aftermath of Erhard’s 1965 electoral victory: Erhard squandered this testament of his popularity with the voters within weeks. He had intended to downsize the cabinet (and thus to get rid of ministers appointed by his predecessor and unfriendly to him) but waited too long to begin that process. In the end, the parliamentary parties of the coalition partners CDU, its Bavarian sister party CSU, and the pro-business FDP prevailed in securing all the posts for ministers they wanted. Erhard was forced to accept a virtually unchanged cabinet. Only one year after his electoral victory, the remainder of his political capital was spent and he resigned.
Rating: 1 out of 5.
Integrity:
Erhard came into office planning to abolish his predecessor’s “democracy of favors” which was based on securing the support of powerful interest groups like the churches, the farmers’ associations, the employers’ associations, or the trade unions by passing legislation and channeling government funding in their favor. While Erhard was not above combatting European economic integration (against his liberal credo of open markets and the benefits of competition) to protect the German farmers from their French competitors, he doled out distinctly fewer favors than his predecessor. He also confined himself to the limits the constitution spelled out and did not attempt to shape the state offices to his liking (as Adenauer had done when he tried to move from the chancellorship into the presidency – but, of course, turning the presidency into the more important office). Finally, Erhard’s more collegial government style confirmed that Germany had moved beyond authoritarianism.
Rating: 4 out of 5.
Erhard is the rare case of a politician not defined by the highest office he attained: He took the decisive action of his life as Director of Economics for the Bizone. He is best remembered by the public as Minister for the Economy. Looking at his chancellorship, it’s easy to see why: During this short period in office, Erhard did not attempt much, and what he attempted usually failed. His successors were left to respond to pressures resulting from the changing civil society and to repair the damage done to Franco-German relations (only achieved around ten years later). Erhard positions himself on the lower rungs of the leaders rated.
How would you rate Erhard? Let me know in the comments!
Further Reading
For short overview essays on all German chancellors from Bismarck on, see Sternburg, Wilhelm von: Die deutschen Kanzler. Von Bismarck bis Merkel[The German Chancellors. From Bismarck to Merkel], Aufbau-Verlag, Berlin 2006 (in German).
For a recent English-language biography (or, rather, a hagiography), see Mierzejewski, Alfred C.: Ludwig Erhard. A Biography, University of North Carolina press, Chapel Hill, NC 2005.
The standard, primary-source based, scholarly biography (which is a bit vitriolic, but generally sound in its judgment) is Hentschel, Volker: Ludwig Erhard. Ein Politikerleben [Ludwig Erhard. A Politician’s Life], Olzog, Munich 1996 (in German).
Last year, I have begun a new irregular series on my blog assessing the merits of UK prime ministers (illustrated through the lens of a single board game per prime minister). The rating system seemed robust enough to apply it to other countries/leaders (at least if they are more or less democratic). Thus, I’m branching out! Today, we’re doing our first US president. And we’re starting with none other than 20th century heavyweight Franklin D. Roosevelt. The accompanying game will be Cataclysm (Scott Muldoon/William Terdoslavich, GMT Games).
The Rating System
Some caveats ahead: The presidents will be rated by the knowledge of their time. If they or their contemporaries could not have known about the effects of something, I will not use my hindsight to mark it as a mistake of theirs. The assessment is focused on their conduct as president, but includes their life after holding the office (in which they will still be regarded in the public eye as (ex-)presidents).
Now, to the system itself: There are three policy field categories (foreign, domestic, and economic policy) and three more general ones (vision, pragmatism, integrity). A president can earn from one to five stars in each category (for a total sum of up to 30). In detail, the president is assessed as follows:
Foreign policy: Did the president increase US influence in the world and the security of Americans at home? Did the president wield US power responsibly and with positive results for the regions affected (the latter counting for a greater deal in times of US power being great)?
Domestic policy: Did the president increase the liberty of Americans to express themselves and to participate in the political process? Did the president promote domestic security and shape the framework for equality before the law and fair justice dealing with offenses?
Economic policy: Did the president facilitate the prosperity and economic security of Americans (including in the mid- and long-term)? Was the president’s economic policy based on mutual benefit of those involved or did it unduly burden one side?
Vision: Did the president have an idea of what the United States and the world (the latter counting for more in times of US influence being great) should look like beyond the immediate future? Did the president’s policies steer the United States (and, if applicable, the world) in this direction?
Pragmatism: Did the president succeed in seeing his policy through from inception to completion? How well did the president manage the support from Congress, society, the administration, the media (the latter counting for more in more recent years)?
Integrity: Did the president understand the office as a means to benefit himself, special interest groups, the entire country, or another community? Did the president respect the boundaries of the office?
Roosevelt’s Life
Franklin D. Roosevelt – or FDR for short – (1882—1945) came from a wealthy New York family. He studied law and ventured into politics soon after graduating: At age 28, he was elected into the New York state senate. Like his famous (distant) cousin Theodore Roosevelt who’d been president until a few years before, Franklin was a progressive in favor of ambitious reforms. Unlike Theodore, he was a Democrat. When fellow Democrat Woodrow Wilson became president in 1913, he appointed FDR Assistant Secretary of the Navy. Many of Roosevelt’s convictions – like the importance of a strong navy to control sea lanes and his commitment to an interventionist foreign policy – were shaped in that time. In 1920, FDR was nominated as the Democratic presidential candidates James M. Cox’s running mate. They lost in a blowout, but Roosevelt established himself as a national figure. Roosevelt fell ill soon after and became paralyzed from the waist down (traditionally, his illness has been identified as polio, but newer research suggests it might have been Guillain-Barré syndrome). Consequently, he retired from electoral politics for a few years.
Roosevelt returned to politics and was elected governor of New York in 1928. His energetic tenure recommended him as a presidential candidate four years later, when the country was suffering from the Great Depression. Roosevelt won the election against Republican incumbent Herbert Hoover in a landslide. He would be re-elected an unprecedented and never repeated three times, winning over 80% of electoral votes in every election.
Roosevelt immediately began a flurry of reforms – starkly different from Hoover’s aloof and seemingly indifferent reaction to the Depression. This “New Deal” included unemployed relief and federal work programs, the foundation of federal social security, and the regulation of the financial sector. Thus, Roosevelt restored trust in the American economy and government.
In his second term, Roosevelt’s reforms were opposed by the conservative majority on the Supreme Court. Roosevelt threatened to introduce legislation which would have increased the size of the Supreme Court. As Judge Owen Roberts left the conservative camp in the Court, the New Deal now had a reliable judicial majority and the “court-packing” bill failed in Congress.
Outside of the United States, storms were brewing. Germany, Italy, and Japan challenged the existing world order. Roosevelt recognized early that American isolationism was ill-equipped to deal with these challenges. He pushed for American rearmament and, once war had broken out in Europe, supported the United Kingdom, France, China, and later also the Soviet Union in their struggle against the Axis aggressors – especially by giving them war matériel which they were to return or pay for after the war (“Lend-Lease”).
The Pacific is large. Even for a country as wealthy and powerful as the United States, it is not easy to project power on the other side of it. Setup for scenario C.4 The Eagle and the Sun from Cataclysm, taken from the Vassal module.
The United States only joined the war after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in December 1941 (and the subsequent declarations of war by Germany and Italy). Roosevelt mobilized the country on an unprecedented scale: Federal spending from 1941 to 1945 exceeded that from the founding of the United States to 1940. The demand for war materiel stimulated the economy. Thus, America overcame the Great Depression building the planes, ships, and trucks with which the Axis was defeated.
Roosevelt’s main allies, the communist Soviet Union and Britain with its large colonial empire were not always supportive of the president’s ideas for a post-war order based on national self-determination and a rules-based international community. Yet they went along, defeated the Axis powers together, and founded international institutions like the United Nations. Roosevelt, however, would not live to see it: He died on April 12, 1945, less than a month before Germany’s defeat.
The Rating
Foreign policy: Roosevelt’s impact on US foreign policy can barely be overstated. He overcame the traditional American isolationism and replaced it with the United Stated adopting a global role appropriate to its economic strength and ideological appeal as the beacon of democracy and capitalism.
Even before the United States entered the war, Roosevelt had succeeding in putting the country on a quasi-war footing, instituting selective service and supporting the beleaguered Allies first with the “cash & carry” option to purchase war matériel, then with the destroyers-for-bases deal, and finally with Lend-Lease).
During the war, he managed a coalition of unlikely allies and got them to agree with his outline for the rules-based post-war order in which we live until today.
Rating: 5 out of 5.
Domestic policy: Roosevelt expanded American liberties with the early, symbolically valuable decision to end prohibition. More substantially, his appointments for judgeships as well as cabinet and administration posts reflected American diversity much better than before – Frances Perkins, his secretary of labor, the first woman to hold a cabinet post, may have been the most famous, but besides her, countless FDR appointees were women, from racial minorities, as well as Catholic and Jewish. Thus, Roosevelt ended the practical monopoly of WASP men on the levers of political power.
While the practical implementation of some New Deal policies excluded disadvantaged Americans (particularly Black southerners), the programs overall were the first large-scale social scheme in America not designed to exclude them and contributed to their equality.
However, Roosevelt’s controversial decision to incarcerate ethnic Japanese (most of which were American citizens) from the Pacific Coast states was an act of state violence based on racial prejudice and taints Roosevelt’s record for liberty and equality.
Rating: 3 out of 5.
Economic policy: The strategy tips for the United States in the Cataclysm playbook state: “The United States can do everything. But in 1933, America is not doing anything.” That’s precisely the state in which Roosevelt found the United States. His deft management of competing interests quickly restored trust in the US government and economy, as when his early cuts in federal expenses increased support for the following spending on unemployment relief.
It is impossible to list all New Deal policies and their economic effects. Three examples might illustrate their breadth and depth:
Roosevelt’s labor rights legislation allowed for the establishment of minimum wages, maximum working hours, and codified the right to collective bargaining. Combined with the expanded access to higher education from the G.I. Bill, these rights ushered in an unprecedented age of prosperity for the American working and middle classes from the 1940s on.
The Glass-Steagall Act separated commercial and investment banking and thus limited the effect of stock market crashes on the “real economy”. Its repeal in the 1990s paved the way for the Great Recession beginning with the crash of 2007.
The Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) did not only provide unemployment relief and conduct infrastructure projects, it also had a massive positive environmental impact (for example, with the three billion trees that were planted by CCC workers).
Rating: 5 out of 5.
The United States has great potential in Cataclysm, yet begins with a small force and low commitment. It is your task as the player – as it was FDR’s – to change that. United States power sheet from Cataclysm with counters from the beginning of the full game on them, taken from Vassal.
Vision: Roosevelt built the modern presidency and shaped US and world politics for decades to come. He elevated and enlarged the office of the president, which, as a strong executive center, allowed the United States to become a global superpower. His vision of achieving liberty, equality, and opportunity with the help of an active government dominated in US politics until the 1970s, and his vision of the rules-based world order even longer (even though it has been under attack in recent years both domestically and internationally).
Rating: 5 out of 5.
Pragmatism: As outlined above, Roosevelt undertook a massive transformation of American policy as well as of the role of US government. He succeeded in getting this transformation through Congress and the judiciary mostly by virtue of his immense electoral appeal: The public’s trust in Roosevelt was never more eloquently put forward than in his four landslide electoral victories. The “Roosevelt coalition” of urban working class, southerners, and racial/ethnic minorities proved almost unbeatable even after his death – from 1933 to 1969, Democrats held the presidential office for 28 of 36 years. Thanks to the Roosevelt coalition, they could always rely on Democratic strength in Congress. These endured even longer – the first time Republicans held both houses of Congress was after the “Republican Revolution” of 1994.
This combination of radical reform and enduring popular support in a democracy is remarkable. Cataclysm players need to keep their stability always at a high level if they want to emulate FDR!
Rating: 5 out of 5.
Integrity: Roosevelt did not use his vast power for personal benefit, but for that of his country and the world. Still, his reach for power knew no bounds. He frequently tested the limits of his office, as in the “court-packing” attempt or in his battles with Congress. He never relinquished power voluntarily. Only death parted him from the presidency.
Rating: 2 out of 5.
Overall: Roosevelt is not easy to rate. He is such a massively impactful president – by virtue of his long time in office, his re-shaping of the presidential role, his complete re-orientation of US foreign and economic policies – that in all the categories in which I have awarded him five stars he is likely still to stand out among future highly-rated contenders. The low points of his presidency – Japanese internment and his constant reach for more power – remind us that he was a flawed man, and that the flaws of a man with his power would shake a nation.
Summed up, he scores 25 out of 30 stars – a top contender.
Maybe I should tackle a less stellar subject for the next leader rating…
How would you rate FDR? Let me know in the comments!
Further Reading
For a recent, politically-focused Roosevelt biography, see Daniels, Roger: Franklin D. Roosevelt (2 volumes), University of Illinois Press, Champaign, IL 2016/2020.
William E. Leuchtenburg’s chapter on FDR in his treatment of the American presidents in the 20th century is almost a monography unto itself. See Leuchtenburg, William E.: The American President. From Teddy Roosevelt to Bill Clinton, Oxford University Press, Oxford 2015, pp. 143-242.
I’ve started a little irregular series called Prime Minister Ratings– assessing British prime ministers by a very general rating system and showcasing one board game in which the prime minister in question or the problems they faced feature. Our first contestant was Robert Walpole, the very first prime minister. Today, we move on to a 20th century heavyweight: Winston Churchill, the man who led Britain through World War II… and was elected prime minister for a second time six years after the war. Our accompanying board game is Churchill (Mark Herman, GMT Games).
Before we dive into Churchill’s life and the assessment of his policies, here’s…
The Rating System
Some caveats ahead: The prime ministers will be rated by the knowledge of their time. If they or their contemporaries could not have known about the effects of something, I will not use my hindsight to mark it as a mistake of theirs. The assessment is focused on their conduct as prime minister, but includes their life after holding the office (in which they will still be regarded in the public eye as (ex-)PMs). And lastly, in the following, “Britain” serves as a shorthand for either Great Britain or United Kingdom of Great Britain and (Northern) Ireland as applicable, “British” for the inhabitants of such.
Now, to the system itself: There are three policy field categories (foreign, domestic, and economic policy) and three more general ones (vision, pragmatism, integrity). A prime minister can earn from one to five stars in each category (for a total sum of up to 30). In detail, the prime minister is assessed as follows:
Foreign policy: Did the prime minister increase British influence in the world and the security of the British at home? Did the prime minister wield British power responsibly and with positive results for the regions affected (the latter counting for a greater deal in times of British power being great)?
Domestic policy: Did the prime minister increase the liberty of the British to express themselves and to participate in the political process? Did the prime minister promote domestic security and shape the framework for equality before the law and fair justice dealing with offenses?
Economic policy: Did the prime minister facilitate the prosperity and economic security of the British (including in the mid- and long-term)? Was the prime minister’s economic policy based on mutual benefit of those involved or did it unduly burden one side?
Vision: Did the prime minister have an idea of what Britain and the world (the latter counting for more in times of British influence being great) should look like beyond the immediate future? Did the prime minister’s policies steer Britain (and, if applicable, the world) in this direction?
Pragmatism: Did the prime minister succeed in seeing their policy through from inception to completion? How well did the prime minister manage the support from Parliament, the Civil Service, the media, society (the latter two counting for more in more recent years)?
Integrity: Did the prime minister understand the office as a means to benefit themselves, special interest groups, the entire country, or another community? Did the prime minister respect the boundaries of the office?
Churchill’s Life
Winston Churchill (1874—1965) came from the English high aristocracy, but inherited a knack for populism from his father, a Tory politician. After formative years as an officer and war correspondent, Churchill turned himself to politics, being elected into Parliament in 1900 (as a Conservative) and joining the government (as a Liberal) in 1905. He held various government posts and was First Lord of the Admiralty when World War I broke out. Churchill resigned over the disastrous Gallipoli landings, but re-joined the government in 1917. While being regarded as a major political talent, Churchill seemed too fickle and unreliable for the highest of offices – for example due to his second change of party (back to the Conservatives) in 1924, after which he served as Chancellor of the Exchequer. Once out of office (in 1929), Churchill searched for new causes – and took up first opposition to Indian self-government and, from 1933, opposition to Nazi expansionism. Neither was a popular stance in the Conservative Party or the country as a whole. Churchill had much time for his second calling after politics – writing.
When Germany went to war with Britain in 1939, Churchill, the great Cassandra on Hitler’s aggression, was called back into government. Less than a year later, prime minister Neville Chamberlain resigned over the failure of the Norwegian operation, and on May 10, 1940, Churchill followed him as prime minister. On the same day, Germany invaded France. Churchill presided over a series of military disasters in his first weeks. In this difficult situation, he excelled at maintaining the fighting spirit of his government, Parliament, and the British people. Not only Hitler was surprised when Britain did not seek peace, but opted to fight alone against the Nazi war machine which controlled half of Europe. Churchill’s great speeches of the spring and summer 1940 – from “I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears, and sweat” over “We shall fight on the beaches” and “This was their finest hour” to “Never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few” chronicle his defiance.
Britain did not have to stand alone forever. In June 1941, Germany invaded the Soviet Union, and Churchill disregarded his ardent anti-communism in cooperation with Stalin. Six months later, the United States entered the war on the allied side. Churchill was sure that this great alliance of Britain, the Soviet Union, and the United States would emerge victorious. His task was now to drive forward the victory – and make sure that Britain, the least populous and productive of the three powers, was not relegated to second rank. For a long time, he succeeded. It was only after the D-Day landings in France in 1944 that Britain’s comparably small material contribution began to turn Britain into a junior partner. Churchill enjoyed great personal popularity for his role in the war, but in the parliamentary elections held two months after the German unconditional surrender, the British voters gave the Labour Party a majority.
Churchill was nominally the head of the opposition and made some memorable speeches warning of Soviet expansionism, but spent most of his time writing his war memoirs (like his other books, they turned into bestsellers). Labour enacted a series of ambitious domestic reforms (from the creation of the NHS to a housing program), but lost their majority in the 1951 elections – so Churchill returned to Downing Street No 10. By then, he was old and suffered from bad health, and domestic politics had never been too interesting to him. However, when Stalin died in 1953, Churchill hoped that a three-way summit between US president Eisenhower, the new leader in Moscow, and himself could resolve the nascent Cold War. His hope was in vain. He resigned in 1955 due to health reasons, but remained a member of parliament until a few weeks before his death in 1965.
The Rating
Foreign policy: Churchill’s focus of interest, and, as a wartime prime minister, the policy field in which the biggest challenges awaited him. He met them remarkably well. True, he did not increase British power and influence, but he staved off its likely demise by a negotiated peace with the Nazis, and held his own in league with the much larger powers of the United States and the Soviet Union for a long time. More importantly even, while it may have been these powers that eventually won the war, Churchill’s contribution in 1940 was to not lose it – and thus ensuring the liberty of hundreds of millions of people around the globe. Churchill’s wartime record is blemished by his less benevolent approach to the liberty of the peoples under British imperial rule which manifested itself in drawn-out colonial wars during his second premiership.
Domestic policy: Churchill’s main contribution was his unification of the country (and his own party, to begin with) to oppose Nazism – when isolationism, appeasement, and pacifism no matter the cost had been en vogue in the 1930s and still lingered early in the war. Also, the British government’s intrusion into the British people’s lives during the war was remarkably limited given the circumstances, and it can be argued that Churchill’s defense against Nazism was an enormous contribution to the British people’s life in liberty and democracy.
Economic policy: Tough to assess, as Churchill was never too interested in it and let his ministers run the show in these matters. The Labour members of his wartime government were able men, and letting them do their thing without hindrance is an achievement in itself (particularly for a leader as headstrong as Churchill). The British economy also was very efficiently mobilized for war production (and achieved a state of economic “total war” long before Germany’s). In Churchill’s second term, his major economic achievement was to accept and continue the sweeping economic and welfare reforms enacted by the Labour government from 1945 to 1951, even though they had been strongly opposed by the Conservatives when they had been in opposition. Churchill thus became a father of the post-war consensus.
Rating: 4 out of 5.
Vision: Churchill’s great mission – the defeat of Nazi expansionism – was in itself not a long-term project. It ended with the Nazis’ unconditional surrender in 1945 – and so did Churchill’s premiership. He took to warning against Soviet expansionism and the hope to end it in a three-way summit between him, the American president, and the Soviet leader in his second term, but this proved futile.
Rating: 4 out of 5.
Pragmatism: Churchill was one of only few government members who were committed to fighting on after the fall of France, but he carried his government, his party, and the country at large with him. His broadening of the government to include Labour and Liberal ministers ensured national unity as long as the war lasted. Once Germany was defeated, this unity was over – exactly how it had been designed to be in a competitive democracy. In terms of foreign policy, Churchill seized on the opportunity to cooperate with the Soviet Union and maintained this difficult partnership until the completion of its mission to defeat the Axis countries.
Integrity: As long as Churchill was a wartime prime minister, his conduct in office held up to high standards. Once Germany had surrendered and Churchill switched to election campaign mode, he was not quite as exemplary – alleging that Labour would want to install a “Gestapo” if elected, a smear as baseless as it was unworthy of a man who knew both Hitler and Attlee well enough to understand they stood at opposite ends of the political sphere. As a former prime minister, Churchill was given access to government files for his war memoirs – and used them to shape public opinion and gain another election victory.
Rating: 3 out of 5.
Overall: Churchill had great qualities and marked defects. Fortunately for him, Britain, and the world, he was called into office in a time that demanded just what he could offer – and probably no one else who stood ready for the task at hand. With 25 out of 30 stars, he jumps to the top group of leaders.
An excellent overview with portraits of all prime ministers is Leonard, Dick: A History of British Prime Ministers, Palgrave Macmillan, Basingstoke 2014.
A good start on Churchill – and, despite the somewhat grandiose title, no hagiography – is Best, Geoffrey: Churchill. A Study in Greatness, Hambledon and London, London 2001.
Of course, Churchill’s own writings are of great interest to anyone reading on his times, especially his Nobel Prize for Literature-winning The Second World War, six volumes (also published as an abridged one-volume version), Cassell, London 1948—1953.
300 years ago, Robert Walpole was made First Lord of the Treasury for the second time. Not a particularly impressive event – if Walpole had not retained that office for 21 years and turned himself into the leading British politician of his time. Thereafter, the office of First Lord of the Treasury customarily was given to the monarch’s representative to parliament – the Prime Minister, as the holder became known. As times changed, so did the office: Today, the prime minister is much more responsible to parliament than to the monarch. Yet the office, unofficial at first, has endured these 300 years and been held by dozens of very different men and women. And thus, this post about Walpole will kick off a new irregular series on the blog – Prime Minister Ratings! I’ll assess Walpole (and, in the future, other prime ministers (or even leaders from other places)) by a very general rating system – and I’ll introduce one board game in which the prime minister or the problems they faced feature – this time, Imperial Struggle (Ananda Gupta/Jason Matthews, GMT Games).
The Creation of an Office
First things first: Why did the prime ministry arise with Walpole? After all, before him, there had been strong advisers to the kings of Britain (and England before), but not at all times. There are personal and structural reasons for the change: Personally, Walpole was a politician of force and skill, and his long tenure enabled him to shape the British constitution according to his needs in office. Structurally, the British crown’s powers had been curtailed by the “Glorious Revolution” of 1688/89, so more power rested with parliament, where the monarch now needed a forceful representative. George I, the first Hanoverian king of Britain, was particularly in need of that, as he spoke little English (his native tongue was German) and was often away in his electorate of Hanover. These were the conditions that enabled Walpole to rise so high.
The Rating System
Some caveats ahead: The prime ministers will be rated by the knowledge of their time. If they or their contemporaries could not have known about the effects of something, I will not use my hindsight to mark it as a mistake of theirs. The assessment is focused on their conduct as prime minister, but includes their life after holding the office (in which they will still be regarded in the public eye as (ex-)PMs). And lastly, in the following, “Britain” serves as a shorthand for either Great Britain or United Kingdom of Great Britain and (Northern) Ireland as applicable, and “British” as shorthand for the inhabitants of such.
Now, to the system itself: There are three policy field categories (foreign, domestic, and economic policy) and three more general ones (vision, pragmatism, integrity). A prime minister can earn from one to five stars in each category (for a total sum of up to 30). In detail, the prime minister is assessed as follows:
Foreign policy: Did the prime minister increase British influence in the world and the security of the British at home? Did the prime minister wield British power responsibly and with positive results for the regions affected (the latter counting for a greater deal in times of British power being great)?
Domestic policy: Did the prime minister increase the liberty of the British to express themselves and to participate in the political process? Did the prime minister promote domestic security and shape the framework for equality before the law and fair justice dealing with offenses?
Economic policy: Did the prime minister facilitate the prosperity and economic security of the British (including in the mid- and long-term)? Was the prime minister’s economic policy based on mutual benefit of those involved or did it unduly burden one side?
Vision: Did the prime minister have an idea of what Britain and the world (the latter counting for more in times of British influence being great) should look like beyond the immediate future? Did the prime minister’s policies steer Britain (and, if applicable, the world) in this direction?
Pragmatism: Did the prime minister succeed in seeing their policy through from inception to completion? How well did the prime minister manage to gain support from Parliament, the Civil Service, the media, society (the latter two counting for more in more recent years)?
Integrity: Did the prime minister understand the office as a means to benefit themselves, special interest groups, the entire country, or another community? Did the prime minister respect the boundaries of the office?
Walpole’s Life
Robert Walpole (1676—1745) was the son of a Norfolk country squire. When he was only 24, his father died, and Walpole moved quickly to seize the vacant seat in the House of Commons for himself. He enjoyed a steady rise in the ranks of the Whigs, and got his first cabinet appointment as Secretary-at-War in 1708. He spent the next years in government, among the opposition, and even in a Whig faction opposing a Whig government until his appointment as First Lord of the Treasury in April 1721 (following the fall of the Sunderland/Stanhope government over the bursting of the South Sea Bubble).
His primacy in the government was contested in the beginning, but assured no later than 1730, when his last weighty rival (and erstwhile ally, as well as brother-in-law) Charles Townshend left the government. Walpole’s dominance over both Houses of Parliament grew, and he also made himself indispensable to two initially skeptical monarchs (George I, and after his death in 1727, George II). Characterizing himself as “no saint, no Spartan, no reformer”, Walpole aimed to bring “security, stability, and low taxation” by a policy committed to peace. When Walpole’s cabinet colleagues pushed the country into the War of Jenkins’ Ear against Spain (which initially went badly), his authority eroded. He lost his control over parliament and resigned in February 1742. Walpole was made Earl of Orford and died in 1745.
Foreign policy: Walpole, a Whig, adopted the traditional Tory policy of peace with France. He stuck to it for almost the entirety of his tenure as prime minister. His “peace at any price” policy saved British lives and money, most notably when he kept the country neutral during the War of the Polish Succession (which ended in a draw anyway, with the candidate Britain preferred ending up on the throne, but French and Spanish territorial gains). At the end of his tenure, the policy of peaceful isolation could not hold anymore, and war with Spain (and then France) erupted against Walpole’s wishes.
Domestic policy: Walpole’s domestic agenda was limited – which was likely a success in itself in a country which had a recent history of religious strife, revolution, and regicide. He made small improvements for the situation of Protestant dissenters (that is, non-members of the Anglican Church). Most significantly, Britain was much more stable and unified at the end of his long rule than at the beginning, and could thus easily deal with the 1745 Jacobite uprising.
Rating: 4 out of 5.
Economic policy: Prosperity was Walpole’s key promise. He restored economic stability after the South Sea Bubble. His policy of peace gave the country a respite from the immense expenses in the wars before and after his tenure. Thus, Walpole reduced overall taxation and cut back on the national debt, which would give Britain more financial flexibility in the future. Not everyone benefitted from Walpole’s economic policy, though: His shift from direct taxation (especially on land) to indirect taxation (especially on consumption) favored rich landowners (like himself) at the expense of the non-propertied classes.
Rating: 4 out of 5.
Vision: Walpole declared peace to be his main means to attain “security, stability, and low taxation”. In that, he succeeded, and he did so for a remarkable long time without major adjustments. His vision and the policies he used to achieve it strengthened Britain in the long run.
Rating: 5 out of 5.
Pragmatism: Walpole used a variety of means to attract backing for himself and his policies. He was a Whig (and would always rest on his strength among the Whigs), but cooperated with the Tories on several occasions from his early career on. His support for beleaguered men of influence after the South Sea Bubble won him their loyalty for a long time to come. Walpole did not only control the House of Commons, of which he was a member, but also the House of Lords – chiefly through his ecclesiastical appointments, whose beneficiaries would prove thankful to him. Even though the heir to the crown, the future George II, was not a friend of Walpole’s, he did not remove him from office upon his succession: Walpole had gained favor with George’s wife Caroline (unlike most other men of note, who courted George’s mistress, from whom the king would not accept policy suggestions). And when the new king attempted to install Sir Spencer Compton as his new chief minister, Walpole proved indispensable to Compton even in the most basic tasks. Compton’s candidacy floundered, and Walpole remained in charge – for a never-again reached 21 years in total.
Integrity: Walpole lived in an age different from ours. Back then, Members of Parliament and ministers did not receive a salary for their offices, and thus usually saw no problem in using their political career to enrich themselves. That drove Walpole both personally and in the ways he would gain political supporters: “All these men have their price”, he remarked about a group of Members of Parliament. As one of his recent biographers put it: Walpole “operated a species of private interest/public expenditure mini-welfare state for anyone able to elect a Member or persuade one to vote right” (Pearce, p. 383). Even in comparison to the men of his age, Walpole made tremendous use of practices which were based on personal rather than common welfare, and the leading writers of his time lambasted the “Robinocracy” (based on the nickname Robin for Robert) as hopelessly corrupt.
Rating: 2 out of 5.
Overall: Walpole was a forceful politician whose control over parliament and (neither weak-willed nor too-trusting) monarchs was extraordinary. His policy of “security, stability, and low taxation” based on peace was mostly successful and held up for a very long time. With 24 out of 30 stars, his rating is what future leaders up here will be measured against.
An excellent overview with portraits of all prime ministers is Leonard, Dick: A History of British Prime Ministers, Palgrave Macmillan, Basingstoke 2014.
The standard scholarly biography remains Plumb, John Harold: Sir Robert Walpole, 2 volumes, Cresset Press, London 1956/1960.
For a more recent biography, see Pearce, Edward: The Great Man. Robert Walpole: Scoundrel, Genius, and Britain’s First Prime Minister, Pimlico, London 2007.
Two of the greatest commanders of antiquity died in 183 BCE, 2200 years ago. Their names are Hannibal Barca and Publius Cornelius Scipio Africanus – but Hannibal and Scipio will do to refer to them.[1] Their lives have many parallels – long absences from home, an adult life dominated by war in the first and politics in the second part, and finally the experience of being an individual too big to fit into one’s small community. We’ll look at their youth and their fortunes in the war when they were in Carthage’s favor in this article. A second part will cover the second part of the war when Rome struck back and Hannibal’s and Scipio’s years after the war that defined both their lives.
There are many board games which deal with the dramatic events of the second war been Rome and Carthage which I will discuss here. The most prominent one (and the one I will draw upon the most) is Mark Simonitch’s Hannibal: Rome vs. Carthage (Valley Games). I took the pictures of the new edition Hannibal & Hamilcar (Mark Simonitch/Jaro Andruszkiewiecz, Phalanx Games).
Early Years
Hannibal was born in 247 BCE as the son of Hamilcar, Carthage’s most successful general of the First Punic War against Rome.[2] Hamilcar was not good at moving on after the defeat in this war and let this influence his parenting: According to a popular story, he took the nine-year old Hannibal and Hannibal’s little brothers Hasdrubal and Mago to a temple and had them swear never to be friends of Rome. Then he left the city to expand Carthage’s imperial possessions in Spain, taking his eldest son with him. Nine years later, he died in battle against an Iberian tribe. His son-in-law Hasdrubal the Fair (married to Hannibal’s oldest sister and not to be confused with Hasdrubal, Hannibal’s brother) took command. Hamilcar and Hasdrubal the Fair gained possession of the largest part of southern and eastern Spain with all its riches in iron and silver. When Hasdrubal the Fair died in 221 BCE, Hannibal was the new supreme leader of the Carthaginian empire in Spain.
Scipio was eleven years younger than Hannibal. He came from one of the most distinguished Roman noble families and was brought up in the traditional style of Roman aristocracy and prepared for political and military duties. Therefore, he joined the military when he was 17 or 18 – just as war had broken out with Carthage.
Hannibal’s War
Hannibal’s successes in Spain had aroused Roman suspicion. Rome demanded Hannibal stop his advance at the river Ebro. Hannibal, however, disregarded this unilateral meddling in his affairs and proceeded to attack the city Saguntum just beyond the Ebro which sent an embassy to Rome for help. Despite their big words, the Romans left Saguntum in the lurch – a hint of the mixed opinions in the Roman senate. Nonetheless, they demanded that Hannibal leave Saguntum be. Hannibal was unimpressed.
He conquered Saguntum unmolestedly and then took his forces, including 37 war elephants, to Gaul and then further towards Italy. A Roman army – led by Scipio’s uncle Gnaeus Cornelius Scipio – marched to Gaul as well, but Hannibal avoided battle and let Gnaeus make his way to Spain in an attempt to catch Italy underdefended. Although it was already October, he proceeded to cross the snow-covered alps – the most famous, and, at the same time, most overrated of Hannibal’s deeds. Sure, it was a daring feat, but nowhere as ground-breaking as people would make it seem – of course Rome knew that armies could pass the Alps. And yes, it was more difficult since it was already fall, but that was Hannibal’s own fault for waiting in Gaul until the consular army had passed him. Most importantly, while elephants in the snow must be a grand sight to behold, the crossing took great losses on the men, when Hannibal could hardly afford losses for a campaign where he’d have trouble getting reinforcements from home or recruiting on site.
Hannibal crossing the Alps with his army in Hannibal & Hamilcar. Note the dotted and dashed lines – those are passes which might reduce your army size due to attrition.
Nonetheless, the crossing of the alps was the beginning of Hannibal’s glory days. He defeated the Romans under Scipio’s father Publius Cornelius Scipio at the Ticinus (Scipio earned his first respect in this battle saving his surrounded father with a daring solitary charge at the assailants). He killed half of the Roman force in the battle at the Trebia with a skilled attack on both flanks. Finally, he ambushed a Roman force that had neglected its reconnaissance at Lake Trasimene, annihilating it and killing its general, consul Gaius Flaminius.
After these crushing defeats within the span of a year Rome changed for a defensive strategy implemented by Quintus Fabius Maximus Verrucosus, called Cunctator (“the delayer”). Fabius avoided direct engagement in favor of constant skirmishes to wear the invading force down while Rome built up her forces (the “Fabian strategy”). This went against all Roman traditions, and many proud Romans viewed it as downright un-Roman. After one year, the Senate gave Fabius the boot and opted for a more assertive strategy against Hannibal once more. The new consuls went straight for Hannibal with a superior force of 80,000 men against the Carthaginian’s 50,000. One young officer in this Roman army was Scipio. The two armies met at Cannae in southern Italy, and Hannibal did what he had always done – just on a bigger scale this time: The Carthaginian center gave way to lure the Roman infantry forward. At the same time, both the Carthaginian left and right won their engagements and outflanked the Romans. They managed to completely encircle the Roman army, and then it was nothing but a massacre. 70,000 Roman soldiers died. Scipio was one of the few survivors.
Hannibal’s most famous victory in Hannibal & Hamilcar: His double envelopment annihilates the army of the attacking consul Gaius Terentius Varro.
Now the way to Rome was open – but Hannibal did not march on the city, producing one of the big what-ifs of military history. His decision was as controversial then as it is now – Hannibal’s cavalry officer Maharbal fumed “You know how to win, Hannibal, but not how to use a victory!” when he heard of it. In the end, Hannibal may have made the right call – Rome would have been difficult to besiege, and with the momentum of his great victory, Hannibal could bring many cities in southern Italy to his side which had been discontented about their alliance with Rome. The issue remains in contention until today, and board games certainly are no exception: Hannibal – Rome vs. Carthage employs a siege system that indicates that Hannibal would not have had an easy time scaling the walls of Rome, whereas it’s pretty easy for an army to flip cities to your side when there is no enemy to contest it. Hannibal vs. Rome (Rome Package, Reiner Knizia, GMT Games), on the other side of the spectrum, ends when one side moves an army onto the enemy capital – even if there is an enemy army.
The catastrophe of Cannae brought the Fabian strategy back into fashion and Fabius himself back into command. And Hannibal despaired over the Roman resources of manpower. While the Romans couldn’t beat Hannibal, he couldn’t break them, either. And so he kept marching through Italy, trying to convince as many cities as possible to join him. There were never enough. The Romans contented themselves with not losing against his main army and keeping tabs on him. Increasingly, they waged the war as if Hannibal wasn’t even there – Fabius as the “shield of Rome” made sure Hannibal was in check without seeking battle, Marcus Claudius Marcellus, the “sword of Rome” re-conquered cities elsewhere, most famously Syracuse on Sicily.
Marcellus sieges Syracuse in Hannibal & Hamilcar. In the background, Fabius Cunctator keeps tabs on Hannibal’s army.
In Spain, the Carthaginians had been more successful. The Roman army under Scipio’s uncle (later reinforced by Scipio’s father) which had bypassed Hannibal in Gaul was defeated repeatedly in Spain. In 211, Carthaginian forces under Scipio’s brother Hasdrubal annihilated the Roman army in Spain. Both Scipio’s father and his uncle Gnaeus were slain. When the Roman Senate decided to send another army, they chose Scipio as the commander. The young Scipio – still only 25 – became the first Roman to hold a pro-consular command (that is, a command for someone who had been consul, the highest office of the Republic) without ever having been as much as a praetor (the second-highest office). Scipio’s talent – and the Senate’s wish to make this a war of revenge – trumped the venerated rules of the Republic.[3]
For an engaging account of not only Hannibal’s life, but also the larger Barcid family history and their political and military machinations, see Hoyos, Dexter: Hannibal’s Dynasty. Power and Politics in the Western Mediterranean, 247—183 BC, Routledge, Abingdon-on-Thames 2003.
The best Scipio biography is still Scullard, H.H.: Scipio Africanus. Soldier and Politician, Cornell University Press, Ithaca, NY 1970.
Footnotes
1. Carthaginian males have a given name that is generally selected from only a handful of names. To avoid confusion between all the dozens of Hannos or Hasdrubals, they are given a nickname which may become hereditary – Hannibal’s nickname Barca (which means “the lightning”) came from his father Hamilcar Barca’s blitzkrieg exploits in the war against Rome, and it became some kind of family name for them.
Roman naming conventions changed over time. During Scipio’s life, the most famous system of the tria nomina (three names) rose to dominance. Male Roman aristocrats would usually have three names in this system. A praenomen (given name) was selected from a list of only about 20 names – in Scipio’s case, Publius. The family name (nomen gentile) Cornelius was legally the most important, since belonging to a Roman family gave the bearer full citizenship rights. Lastly, the often-hereditary nickname (cognomen) was more and more used as the main name referring to a person – which is why we call Scipio Scipio (and not Publius or Cornelius). He had inherited this nickname from a distant ancestor who must have held public office since scipio refers to the staff that would have been the symbol for office. What about Scipio’s last name Africanus? Well, that’s another nickname. This one, however, Scipio acquired for himself. We’ll get to that in due time.
2. You see how our perspective is Roman here – we call the wars between Rome and Carthage “Punic” wars after the Punic Carthaginians as Rome’s enemies. The Carthaginians might have called these wars the “Roman” wars (just like the Vietnamese call what is known in the western World as the “Vietnam War” the “American War”).
3. Rome never had a codified, written constitution, but there were conventions on how to conduct politics. One of these rules was that all offices had to be taken in the right sequence starting with the lowest. These rules were evolving. Granting Scipio the command started a massive trend to shape the rules to fit ambitious individuals.
Anmelden
