Aileen Christensen and Professor Paul Kerry, Department of History
The Empress Frederick was a remarkably intelligent woman, who uniquely responded to her parents educational system and ideas, making her the bright hope for the future generation, particularly for the future of Prussia. Her lofty English ideals, however, led her into conflict and defeat at the hands of Otto von Bismarck. The core of the contrast between the Empress Frederick’s and Prince Bismarck’s convictions are best expressed by Vicky (the Empress) herself: “What has been brought about with blood and iron could have been achieved by moral conquests.” Bismarck’s commanding vision of unification through blood and iron is fairly concrete and therefore understandable. Vicky’s, by contrast, is based in conceptual credence—a sense of rightness that is far more difficult to measure or comprehend. In essence, she believed in principles both for her person and her people. Her family, however, was the crucial birthplace, bastion, and ambition of these principles. This central conflict between blood and iron and family and principle defined the lives of Bismarck and the Empress Frederick as well as the future of the German Empire. Both ideologies influenced Germany’s formative years, and in the end their effects would be equal to their strategies: Bismarck found the concrete success of expediency and power, and Vicky found the immeasurable success of family and honor.
Most historians point to the tragedy of the Empress Frederick’s life, her failed hopes for liberalizing Germany, and her son who became estranged from her ideologically. This seems like total failure. But I discovered that the Empress Frederick did not define her life by political conquests or public opinion. For this she has been consigned to the obscurity of history. What the Empress’s life really calls into question is whether these kinds of concrete successes are the essential product of good leadership. What is good leadership? Bismarck, of course, would define leadership in practical terms, measurable terms. But is there not something more to leadership, something immeasurably human? The Empress Frederick demonstrated her devotion to this more abstract conception of leadership in the way she treasured family ties and appealed to principles higher than war or industry. Her liberal principles would seem entirely normal in today’s political climate, but her leadership style is completely foreign. We expect concrete promises, political platforms that focus on the “issues.” But what the Empress Frederick shows us is perhaps something is missing from our leadership if we turn away from family, if we turn away from human influence, if we turn away from the heart, what is left? The blood and iron that remains is a distortion of formerly wise and benevolent leadership.
These political criticisms are all very well from the Empress’s perspective, but interestingly her ideals actually resonate us today. I was amazed by the reception of this project when I presented at the National Conference of Undergraduate Research last March. At the end of my presentation, several people asked to know more about the Empress’s relationship with her son, the famous Kaiser Wilhelm II. As a child Bismarck and Wilhelm’s grandparents wanted him educated in a traditional Prussian manner. The Empress instead wanted him to have a more liberal, English-style upbringing. This conflict was a source of deep sorrow for the Empress and sowed the division between the Empress and her son that would surface later in life. Because of Kaiser Wilhelm’s prominent international role, most people, especially those with some background in history, know the basics of his life and politics. But what I discovered is these same people are fascinated by his mother’s influence on him and her hopes for him. Something about her role resonates with us. Her influence, her reliance on family ties, reveals the aspect of leadership steeped in personal feeling and moral principle that is so easily pushed aside and belittled in an age of practicality and logic. While the Empress Frederick’s vision failed to change the course of Germany, we can allow it to change us in precisely the familial and principled way that she so ardently valued.
The Empress’s extraordinarily beautiful and noble vision would hardly be impressive if she were not equally gifted and influential. But as her biographer Hannah Pakula notes, referencing Albert’s view of Germany’s precarious position between England and Russia, “It is hardly surprising that the German-born Albert understood this basic dichotomy in his people. What is amazing is that he expected the weight of a fragile girl to tip the scales in favor of individual liberty and constitutional government.” This faith in Vicky appears astounding, but in truth, she was not a fragile girl. She was a singularly intelligent, extraordinarily profound, exceptionally principled woman, wife of the Emperor, and mother of the next generation of the Prussian monarchy. Her matchless inner worth radiated along family lines, leaving an impression of goodness and peerless leadership in the hearts of many, if not in the cold Prussian heart of Berlin.