The People's Reich.
- Thread starter Saepe Fidelis
- Start date
yourworstnightmare
Banned
Don't restore the Romanovs. I don't think it would even be politically possible. Even if the officers are Czarists, no one want a military junta. Let Russia become a republic.
Actually, I find the probability of a puppet Czar Alexei under the control of an iron-fisted triumvirate of Kolchak, Pepelyayev, and von Sternberg far more likely. At least they'll industrialize the Empire, if not exactly bring civil, political, and economic rights.
Sternberg's dead but Kolchak will be the big thing in Russia yes. Nicholas isn't going to come back because, well, he doesn't want to, but Alexei's got a good chance...but I don't want to give too much away.
artha, your point on my map is a valid one, however it reflects the different colonial policies pursued by Belgium and the Netherlands; the Netherlands bow to international (i.e. German) pressure and give Indonesia independence in the 1950s. Belgium, however, is much more OTL Portugal and is determined to retain ist colonies at all cost. Of course, that can't last forever.
All will be explained in future chapters. Hope you're all enjoying this!
Huh, I must have missed that part about Sternberg's death. Anyway, yes, I'm certainly enjoy this, and I eagerly await the next update!
Speaking of your map, I don't get your logic behind the Finland-wank.
Finnish Karelia is not unplausible, but Kola and other parts of nothern Russia as Finnish territory would only make sense if Russia was reduced to absolute rump state or destroyed.
Except TTL Russia seems to be a major power.
It doesn't make sense.
Finnish Karelia is not unplausible, but Kola and other parts of nothern Russia as Finnish territory would only make sense if Russia was reduced to absolute rump state or destroyed.
Except TTL Russia seems to be a major power.
It doesn't make sense.
Remember the map's set in 1964; I don't want to spoil everything but there's a big war yet to come... try adn guess who's in it
Part V: Old Scores to Settle.
Following the rescue of the Imperial family from beleaguered Petrograd, Admiral Kolchak began the long process of securing Russia from all its external enemies. It was in November 1921 that he finally systemised his military and state command; he appointed himself Generalissimo, with a General’s Staff comprising supporters such as Pepelyayev, Dutov and a host of other warlords-come-national liberators. They made their base in the Moscow Kremlin, from which they established military rule across Russia until order could be restored. It was in the winter of 1921 that the new Russia was hashed out in its most rudimentary form. By the Spring of 1922 the General Staff-the Empire’s real rulers-were united in their support for a new Duma, to be elected via supervised elections which would, naturally, return a conservative-dominated chamber. The franchise was limited to property owners and tenants who owned more than a certain level of property; they thus excluded most of their poor enemies from the vote. They left the issue of the Tsar to the Duma, yet the General Staff was internally split; some wanted Alexei to return while others wanted a Republic, or a dictatorship masked as a Republic.
The Duma first met in June 1922, and was comprised mostly of middle-class professionals, intellectuals, ex-officers, landowners and landlords. They met in the Kremlin where they were watched over by military guards and by Kolchak’s omniscient spy network, which he had begun to develop years before to keep an eye on Sternberg. Opponents of his were silenced, either through bribes or through threats, and one deputy was sadly drowned in the Moskva River while drunk. Some found it interesting that he had chosen to wear trousers tied down with iron weights, but those petty concerns did not last long. The Duma elected Kolchak as its president almost unanimously, and granted him the power to form a committee to write a constitution for Russia.
The Constitution took only three weeks to write, as if it had been pre-prepared. Kolchak presented it as a fait accompli to the Duma, which accepted it with not a little trepidation. It provided for the restoration of the Tsar as a constitutional monarch, whose would appoint a Prime Minister from whomsoever he saw fit; the Prime Minister would then appoint a cabinet from among Duma members and the upper echelons of the army and the civil service. This cabinet would be responsible to the Prime Minister who would be responsible to the Tsar. The Duma would serve as a ratifying body to accept or reject legislation proposed by the government in the name of the Tsar. The Constitution also gave the Tsar the power to declare a state of emergency and devolve any of his powers as Supreme Autocrat to anyone he saw fit for an indefinite period. During a state of emergency the Duma was dissolved and the Tsar (or his subordinate) could rule by decree without recourse to any civilian powers.
With the new Constitution ratified, Kolchak met privately with Nicholas Romanov to offer him his throne back. Nicholas, however, was unwilling to resume his role as monarch, and could not stomach any sort of return to power, especially under a constitutional settlement. Kolchak then turned to Alexei, who had sat next to his father all through the meeting, and hailed him as Tsar and Supreme Autocrat. Nicholas consented, as his the Tsaritsa Alexandra, and it was agreed that Alexei would take the throne, with Kolchak as Regent, of course.
While Russia began to settle down from the maelstrom of anarchy which had overtaken it since 1917, the new states to its west were beginning to recover as well. Poland, Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia and Finland had all been recognised by the Russian government, however grudgingly, yet they did not all necessarily recognise one another. Poland and Lithuania had engaged in a short yet gruesome war which ended with the Poles annexing most of eastern Lithuania before the Kaunas government in Lithuania could broker a peace. These small, weak and poor countries looked to the League of Nations for succour, and they had all joined by the end of 1922. However, they were still trapped between two titans; Germany, rebuilding and reconsolidating ever faster, looked scary indeed, even if its politics was fairly centrist and its army was emasculated by the Entente. Russia, meanwhile, was still economically crushed yet five years of civil war had made its people harsh and bellicose; no one in Warsaw or Tallinn trusted Kolchak anymore than Kolchak trusted them. Eastern European peace hung on a knife’s blade.
With such a dangerous group of neighbours, German military planners and politicians began looking for ways they could subvert the Treaty of Versailles; in December 1922 they signed a secret treaty with Lithuania which promised mutual defence. They also offered to sell Lithuania military planes, as well as providing instructors to teach Lithuanian pilots. In truth, the supposed instructors were trainee pilots themselves from Germany, sent to learn to fly German planes in Lithuanian airfields. Of the 600 airmen sent to Lithuania from 1923-1924, only 25 were real instructors. The rest were the nucleus of a secret, illegal German air force. Germany also sold tanks and artillery pieces to Lithuania at discount prices under the understanding that Germany could buy them back (at an inflated price) if Germany needed them. Similar treaties were signed with Poland, Estonia and Czechoslovakia. Thus Germany subverted the Treaty of Versailles in order to preserve the heart of the German army in the face of annihilation.
In 1923 Hermann Muller was brought down by a coup within the Social Democrats, whose left-wing wanted Germany’s economic recovery to be mirrored by the democratisation and nationalisation of the means of production. Muller’s liberal economic policy had earned him support from Centrists and Liberals, yet the left was aghast. He resigned in May 1923 and President Ebert, seeing the rift in the Reichstag, called new elections to be held in November; until then he would rule by decree, a prerogative which he rarely used.
With the left in turmoil, the German Democratic Party’s new leader Gustav Stresemann rallied his party to become the party of the centre-right, to fight for liberalism and the middle-classes. Respect for private property, extension of the welfare state and revision of the Treaty of Versailles were his main policies, and they won over large swathes of the German population. In November, the SPD won 27% of the vote, the DDP 24%, the ILP won 17%, the CCP 20% and the German National Party won 9%. The resulting political impasse was only solved on 27th November when President Ebert summoned Stresemann, the leaders of the CCP and the SPD to a meeting and told them if they didn’t reach an agreement he would declare a state of emergency. The final agreement made Stresemann Chancellor and Foreign Minister, with Bauer serving as Minister of Finance and Muller as Minister of Justice. The CCP took the Interior Ministry and the SPD and DDP split the other posts between them. The coalition was not going to be easy, but no sane man dared it to fail.
Following the rescue of the Imperial family from beleaguered Petrograd, Admiral Kolchak began the long process of securing Russia from all its external enemies. It was in November 1921 that he finally systemised his military and state command; he appointed himself Generalissimo, with a General’s Staff comprising supporters such as Pepelyayev, Dutov and a host of other warlords-come-national liberators. They made their base in the Moscow Kremlin, from which they established military rule across Russia until order could be restored. It was in the winter of 1921 that the new Russia was hashed out in its most rudimentary form. By the Spring of 1922 the General Staff-the Empire’s real rulers-were united in their support for a new Duma, to be elected via supervised elections which would, naturally, return a conservative-dominated chamber. The franchise was limited to property owners and tenants who owned more than a certain level of property; they thus excluded most of their poor enemies from the vote. They left the issue of the Tsar to the Duma, yet the General Staff was internally split; some wanted Alexei to return while others wanted a Republic, or a dictatorship masked as a Republic.
The Duma first met in June 1922, and was comprised mostly of middle-class professionals, intellectuals, ex-officers, landowners and landlords. They met in the Kremlin where they were watched over by military guards and by Kolchak’s omniscient spy network, which he had begun to develop years before to keep an eye on Sternberg. Opponents of his were silenced, either through bribes or through threats, and one deputy was sadly drowned in the Moskva River while drunk. Some found it interesting that he had chosen to wear trousers tied down with iron weights, but those petty concerns did not last long. The Duma elected Kolchak as its president almost unanimously, and granted him the power to form a committee to write a constitution for Russia.
The Constitution took only three weeks to write, as if it had been pre-prepared. Kolchak presented it as a fait accompli to the Duma, which accepted it with not a little trepidation. It provided for the restoration of the Tsar as a constitutional monarch, whose would appoint a Prime Minister from whomsoever he saw fit; the Prime Minister would then appoint a cabinet from among Duma members and the upper echelons of the army and the civil service. This cabinet would be responsible to the Prime Minister who would be responsible to the Tsar. The Duma would serve as a ratifying body to accept or reject legislation proposed by the government in the name of the Tsar. The Constitution also gave the Tsar the power to declare a state of emergency and devolve any of his powers as Supreme Autocrat to anyone he saw fit for an indefinite period. During a state of emergency the Duma was dissolved and the Tsar (or his subordinate) could rule by decree without recourse to any civilian powers.
With the new Constitution ratified, Kolchak met privately with Nicholas Romanov to offer him his throne back. Nicholas, however, was unwilling to resume his role as monarch, and could not stomach any sort of return to power, especially under a constitutional settlement. Kolchak then turned to Alexei, who had sat next to his father all through the meeting, and hailed him as Tsar and Supreme Autocrat. Nicholas consented, as his the Tsaritsa Alexandra, and it was agreed that Alexei would take the throne, with Kolchak as Regent, of course.
While Russia began to settle down from the maelstrom of anarchy which had overtaken it since 1917, the new states to its west were beginning to recover as well. Poland, Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia and Finland had all been recognised by the Russian government, however grudgingly, yet they did not all necessarily recognise one another. Poland and Lithuania had engaged in a short yet gruesome war which ended with the Poles annexing most of eastern Lithuania before the Kaunas government in Lithuania could broker a peace. These small, weak and poor countries looked to the League of Nations for succour, and they had all joined by the end of 1922. However, they were still trapped between two titans; Germany, rebuilding and reconsolidating ever faster, looked scary indeed, even if its politics was fairly centrist and its army was emasculated by the Entente. Russia, meanwhile, was still economically crushed yet five years of civil war had made its people harsh and bellicose; no one in Warsaw or Tallinn trusted Kolchak anymore than Kolchak trusted them. Eastern European peace hung on a knife’s blade.
With such a dangerous group of neighbours, German military planners and politicians began looking for ways they could subvert the Treaty of Versailles; in December 1922 they signed a secret treaty with Lithuania which promised mutual defence. They also offered to sell Lithuania military planes, as well as providing instructors to teach Lithuanian pilots. In truth, the supposed instructors were trainee pilots themselves from Germany, sent to learn to fly German planes in Lithuanian airfields. Of the 600 airmen sent to Lithuania from 1923-1924, only 25 were real instructors. The rest were the nucleus of a secret, illegal German air force. Germany also sold tanks and artillery pieces to Lithuania at discount prices under the understanding that Germany could buy them back (at an inflated price) if Germany needed them. Similar treaties were signed with Poland, Estonia and Czechoslovakia. Thus Germany subverted the Treaty of Versailles in order to preserve the heart of the German army in the face of annihilation.
In 1923 Hermann Muller was brought down by a coup within the Social Democrats, whose left-wing wanted Germany’s economic recovery to be mirrored by the democratisation and nationalisation of the means of production. Muller’s liberal economic policy had earned him support from Centrists and Liberals, yet the left was aghast. He resigned in May 1923 and President Ebert, seeing the rift in the Reichstag, called new elections to be held in November; until then he would rule by decree, a prerogative which he rarely used.
With the left in turmoil, the German Democratic Party’s new leader Gustav Stresemann rallied his party to become the party of the centre-right, to fight for liberalism and the middle-classes. Respect for private property, extension of the welfare state and revision of the Treaty of Versailles were his main policies, and they won over large swathes of the German population. In November, the SPD won 27% of the vote, the DDP 24%, the ILP won 17%, the CCP 20% and the German National Party won 9%. The resulting political impasse was only solved on 27th November when President Ebert summoned Stresemann, the leaders of the CCP and the SPD to a meeting and told them if they didn’t reach an agreement he would declare a state of emergency. The final agreement made Stresemann Chancellor and Foreign Minister, with Bauer serving as Minister of Finance and Muller as Minister of Justice. The CCP took the Interior Ministry and the SPD and DDP split the other posts between them. The coalition was not going to be easy, but no sane man dared it to fail.
Mostly the same as OTL although the American stock market's less...shall we say rampant that OTL due to the smaller loans made to Germany. 1929's probably not going to be as bad as OTL, but still not walk in the park either.
Part VI: Return of the Master.
The so-called Grand Coalition’s economic policies were similar to those of the previous government; German Lande governments were encouraged to set up public banks to fund industrial reconstruction and economic growth, while the central government procured loans from the international markets. This financial pyramid-scheme tied local government to Berlin without making the central government directly responsible for economic micromanagement. This system was anathema to many extreme socialists, who resented government involvement in capitalism as much as they resented capitalism itself; they called it collusion between the state and the financiers to keep the German people in chains. Some of these opinions would be taken up by the political far-right, combined with anti-Semitism and hatred of the social-democratic political consensus. However, most of the political left was united in its demands for central government to better regulate and control industry, and to play a more pro-active role in labour relations.
If the 1923 government’s economic policies were broadly centre-left and contiguous with its predecessor, then Stresemann’s foreign policy was the most proactive Germany had had since 1914. His aim, as Chancellor and Foreign Minister, was to reintegrate Germany to the international system while building more amicable bilateral relations with Germany’s neighbours. This latter task he subdivided in his mind between extending German influence in the new Eastern European democracies of Poland and Czechoslovakia, and secondly the normalisation of relations with France and Belgium, which had frosted over since their occupation of the Rhineland in 1921. To do this, he spearheaded Germany’s application to join the League of Nations. To do this he persuaded the Estonian delegation to call for a summit to be held, which garnered a small majority of votes. At this Summit, he made Germany’s formal request to join the League. There was much disease among the delegations of the Allied powers, especially Belgium and France, who feared Germany would use the League to over-rule any actions they might take in the Rhineland. However, Britain and most other nations which had been aggrieved by Germany were won over by Stresemann’s argument that the League would make every national accountable to international law and decency, and said that it was more dangerous to exclude a country than to include it. This was a somewhat barbed reference to the absence of Russia, which was still not a member and showed little interest in joining, as of yet. The vote on Germany’s membership passed, without France or Belgium vetoing the motion. Germany attended its first summit as a fully member in September 1924.
With Germany once more a full member of the international community, Stresemann worked on restoring Germany’s system of alliances in Eastern Europe. Where in 1914 there had been linkages built between the Reich, the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the Bulgarian Empire and the Ottomans, in 1924 two of these states had collapsed and the other largely emasculated by predatory neighbours. However, using Germany’s extraordinary economic recovery as a weapon, he made bilateral trade agreements with Czechoslovakia and Austria, while making secret diplomatic overtures to Poland, despite mutual suspicions of a lust for territory at the others expense. Germany was not a strong power; her armed forces lay prostrate before the victorious powers and her economy was still only recovering from the war, but it was rebuilding its former standing rapidly, and many analysts predicted Germany would be fully rehabilitated within the decade.
While Stresemann championed foreign policy, he farmed out most internal policy to the Centre Party and the SPD. This lack of central leadership meant that domestic issues lacked any drive or focus, and instead government policy floundered from one crisis to another. This sometimes threatened to tear the government apart, as the Paragraph 175 fiasco of 1924 proved. A Reichstag legislative committee recommended in March 1924 that Paragraph 175, an article of federal law which prohibited homosexual relations should be repealed. This motion garnered the support of the SPD, the Democratic Party and the Independent Labour Party. However, the Catholic Centre Party refused to back the motion because of its Catholic ideology. The CCP-controlled Interior Ministry refused to reform the law at all, while several right-wing Reichstag members called for Paragraph 175 to be broadened and enforced more stringently. The issue would have been buried, had not a prominent artist been convicted of homosexual activities in April, and been sent to prison. This prompted an outcry among the liberally-minded public, especially in the North and the East where attitudes towards homosexuality were less susceptible to Roman Catholic influence. Finally, a vote was called in the Reichstag and the government was split; all government parties aside from the CCP were in favour of repealing Paragraph 175 whereas the CCP found itself in the unpleasant company of Germany’s far-right, which was united through hatred of homosexuality and little else. The vote passed the Reichstag and the Landtag (despite opposition from Catholic Lande) and the Paragraph was repealed; homosexual relations were officially tolerated in the German Reich as of 15th June 1924.
The Paragraph 175 Crisis showed that the coalition was split on domestic issues, but also that the Chancellor was out of touch with popular opinion; no matter what people thought about the affair, it was a hugely divisive public issue. Stresemann, however, did not publicly comment on the matter asides from approving his party’s support for repeal. The CCP was also thrown into internal turmoil, as its socially progressive members boycotted the vote, an act of betrayal which its conservative members blamed on the vote’s success. As a response to the vote’s success, eleven CCP deputies left the party and joined the Democratic Party. This secession threw the CCP into turmoil, as its leader Wilhelm Marx found himself embattled from both political wings within his party and for several grim months it looked as if the party might split into two rival factions. The party pulled out of the coalition government in August 1924 and President Ebert announced new elections would be held in September.
The 1924 elections would be a bloodbath for the German political centre, as both centrist parties, the Democratic Party and the CCP, were politically damaged. The CCP had precipitated the crisis and was in the process of tearing itself apart in a bloody party leadership contest which was finally won by Joseph Wirth. The Democratic Party was seen as weak on the economy and elitist; Stresemann was personally popular yet he was seen as aloof and arrogant. The Social Democrats appeared resurgent and the new National Socialist Peoples’ Party under Ernst Rohm looked set to sweep up conservative votes from the CCP.
As the results came in it became apparent that the great opportunity of German conservatism had been given up; the result was a crushing SPD victory. 44% went to the SPD and 19% to the ILP. The Democratic Party held on with 23% but the CCP collapsed to 11%. The National Socialist Party won 3% and the Peoples’ Party earned a meagre 7%. In the following talks, an SPD-ILP coalition was formed, with Gustav Bauer returning to the Chancellery. Richard Muller, head of the ILP, took the Interior Ministry with the intention of making it a bastion of leftism. Any radical plans he may have had proved unnecessary, however, when Bauer announced that it was official government policy to democratise German industry and to turn over the means of production to the nation and the people. The 1924 government would be the pinnacle of the post-war Social Democratic consensus. It was, arguably, the most important government Germany was ever to have.
The so-called Grand Coalition’s economic policies were similar to those of the previous government; German Lande governments were encouraged to set up public banks to fund industrial reconstruction and economic growth, while the central government procured loans from the international markets. This financial pyramid-scheme tied local government to Berlin without making the central government directly responsible for economic micromanagement. This system was anathema to many extreme socialists, who resented government involvement in capitalism as much as they resented capitalism itself; they called it collusion between the state and the financiers to keep the German people in chains. Some of these opinions would be taken up by the political far-right, combined with anti-Semitism and hatred of the social-democratic political consensus. However, most of the political left was united in its demands for central government to better regulate and control industry, and to play a more pro-active role in labour relations.
If the 1923 government’s economic policies were broadly centre-left and contiguous with its predecessor, then Stresemann’s foreign policy was the most proactive Germany had had since 1914. His aim, as Chancellor and Foreign Minister, was to reintegrate Germany to the international system while building more amicable bilateral relations with Germany’s neighbours. This latter task he subdivided in his mind between extending German influence in the new Eastern European democracies of Poland and Czechoslovakia, and secondly the normalisation of relations with France and Belgium, which had frosted over since their occupation of the Rhineland in 1921. To do this, he spearheaded Germany’s application to join the League of Nations. To do this he persuaded the Estonian delegation to call for a summit to be held, which garnered a small majority of votes. At this Summit, he made Germany’s formal request to join the League. There was much disease among the delegations of the Allied powers, especially Belgium and France, who feared Germany would use the League to over-rule any actions they might take in the Rhineland. However, Britain and most other nations which had been aggrieved by Germany were won over by Stresemann’s argument that the League would make every national accountable to international law and decency, and said that it was more dangerous to exclude a country than to include it. This was a somewhat barbed reference to the absence of Russia, which was still not a member and showed little interest in joining, as of yet. The vote on Germany’s membership passed, without France or Belgium vetoing the motion. Germany attended its first summit as a fully member in September 1924.
With Germany once more a full member of the international community, Stresemann worked on restoring Germany’s system of alliances in Eastern Europe. Where in 1914 there had been linkages built between the Reich, the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the Bulgarian Empire and the Ottomans, in 1924 two of these states had collapsed and the other largely emasculated by predatory neighbours. However, using Germany’s extraordinary economic recovery as a weapon, he made bilateral trade agreements with Czechoslovakia and Austria, while making secret diplomatic overtures to Poland, despite mutual suspicions of a lust for territory at the others expense. Germany was not a strong power; her armed forces lay prostrate before the victorious powers and her economy was still only recovering from the war, but it was rebuilding its former standing rapidly, and many analysts predicted Germany would be fully rehabilitated within the decade.
While Stresemann championed foreign policy, he farmed out most internal policy to the Centre Party and the SPD. This lack of central leadership meant that domestic issues lacked any drive or focus, and instead government policy floundered from one crisis to another. This sometimes threatened to tear the government apart, as the Paragraph 175 fiasco of 1924 proved. A Reichstag legislative committee recommended in March 1924 that Paragraph 175, an article of federal law which prohibited homosexual relations should be repealed. This motion garnered the support of the SPD, the Democratic Party and the Independent Labour Party. However, the Catholic Centre Party refused to back the motion because of its Catholic ideology. The CCP-controlled Interior Ministry refused to reform the law at all, while several right-wing Reichstag members called for Paragraph 175 to be broadened and enforced more stringently. The issue would have been buried, had not a prominent artist been convicted of homosexual activities in April, and been sent to prison. This prompted an outcry among the liberally-minded public, especially in the North and the East where attitudes towards homosexuality were less susceptible to Roman Catholic influence. Finally, a vote was called in the Reichstag and the government was split; all government parties aside from the CCP were in favour of repealing Paragraph 175 whereas the CCP found itself in the unpleasant company of Germany’s far-right, which was united through hatred of homosexuality and little else. The vote passed the Reichstag and the Landtag (despite opposition from Catholic Lande) and the Paragraph was repealed; homosexual relations were officially tolerated in the German Reich as of 15th June 1924.
The Paragraph 175 Crisis showed that the coalition was split on domestic issues, but also that the Chancellor was out of touch with popular opinion; no matter what people thought about the affair, it was a hugely divisive public issue. Stresemann, however, did not publicly comment on the matter asides from approving his party’s support for repeal. The CCP was also thrown into internal turmoil, as its socially progressive members boycotted the vote, an act of betrayal which its conservative members blamed on the vote’s success. As a response to the vote’s success, eleven CCP deputies left the party and joined the Democratic Party. This secession threw the CCP into turmoil, as its leader Wilhelm Marx found himself embattled from both political wings within his party and for several grim months it looked as if the party might split into two rival factions. The party pulled out of the coalition government in August 1924 and President Ebert announced new elections would be held in September.
The 1924 elections would be a bloodbath for the German political centre, as both centrist parties, the Democratic Party and the CCP, were politically damaged. The CCP had precipitated the crisis and was in the process of tearing itself apart in a bloody party leadership contest which was finally won by Joseph Wirth. The Democratic Party was seen as weak on the economy and elitist; Stresemann was personally popular yet he was seen as aloof and arrogant. The Social Democrats appeared resurgent and the new National Socialist Peoples’ Party under Ernst Rohm looked set to sweep up conservative votes from the CCP.
As the results came in it became apparent that the great opportunity of German conservatism had been given up; the result was a crushing SPD victory. 44% went to the SPD and 19% to the ILP. The Democratic Party held on with 23% but the CCP collapsed to 11%. The National Socialist Party won 3% and the Peoples’ Party earned a meagre 7%. In the following talks, an SPD-ILP coalition was formed, with Gustav Bauer returning to the Chancellery. Richard Muller, head of the ILP, took the Interior Ministry with the intention of making it a bastion of leftism. Any radical plans he may have had proved unnecessary, however, when Bauer announced that it was official government policy to democratise German industry and to turn over the means of production to the nation and the people. The 1924 government would be the pinnacle of the post-war Social Democratic consensus. It was, arguably, the most important government Germany was ever to have.
Part VII: If you wait you may become President...
The 1924 Coalition would fundamentally re-tool the German economy to one which would inspire other nations around the world and which would become the ‘third way’ of international political economy. Chancellor Bauer was a moderate Social Democrat, yet his Interior Minister Richard Muller had once been leader of the Revolutionary Shop Stewards Union and as leader of the Independent Labour Party had supported candidates who had called for President Ebert to be put to death for his government’s actions in Munich and Kiel. Giving him the Interior Ministry was seen by many as a disastrous choice; they feared Muller would use his control of the police and the courts to further his own political ends. The pundits failed to see the plots hatched behind doors after the election; Muller knew he could not push his revolutionary message alone, given that the SPD had won more than four times as many votes as his own party. He thus held the Interior Ministry as a bargaining chip when it came to the running of the economy; if the SPD pursued a too-moderate course of action, he would make threatening noises in the Ministry to force their hand. Bauer discussed this plan with President Ebert, who had misgivings about it, yet decided that if the worst came to the worst he could declare a state of emergency and rule by decree. Eventually, Muller was given the Interior Ministry and one of his deputies placed in the Finance Ministry as a thinly-disguised spy and agent provocateur.
The government quickly introduced legislation to the Reichstag to mandate Boards of Labour in every enterprise employing more than 200 people. It was stated that these Boards would be comprised of workers’ representatives, technical experts, managers and finally other interested parties such as major share-holders or, in the case of utilities such as railway companies, the government itself. Labour representatives would be chosen by secret ballot from among the workers themselves, while management representatives would be selected by the executives of the firm. The legislation was billed to liberals and conservatives as a way of giving greater control to proprietors and decreasing the chance of a devastating strike. To socialists, it was sold as the first step towards the democratisation of labour and socialisation of the entire economy. The legislation passed both houses of the legislature and was signed by President Ebert on 15th January 1925. It was initially met with concern by industrialists and foreign creditors, who feared that German companies would pass their private debt onto the state, which was infinitely harder to bargain with. However, after several months of negotiations and elections, the Boards were established successfully. The flagship project was the Mercedes Labour Board, which sat for the first time at nine o’clock in the morning of 16th April 1925. The items on its first agenda were the management of loans from the Industrial Reconstruction Fund and the issue of wages for part-time workers in a plant in Augsburg, which was accused of using part-time labour in order to under cut full-time unionised workers.
The Labour Boards were a huge success for the government, and although they had only a marginal effect on the economy they kept workers working rather than on picket lines and appeased the capitalist class that a Social Democrat government could be trusted with the economy. However, Muller’s plans for the economy extended further than these fairly centrist policies. He besieged Bauer over the nationalisation of industry and utilities; Bauer objected, saying that the government was already represented on labour boards for critical industries (an amendment to the legislation in 1926 gave the government representation on the Labour Boards for munitions firms). Muller said that his party was dedicated to the democratisation of the economy and he told Bauer that it was his duty as a socialist to support that aim. Bauer replied that he had duties as a socialist, duties as a Chancellor and duties as a German and that these did not always coincide. Muller threatened to resign n the early months of 1926 but was talked out of it by his deputies.
The modest economic gains made by the Boards of Labour translated into large political gains for the Social Democrat Party; support for the ILP fell away as all reckonings gave the SPD an increased share of the vote if elections were held in 1926. Bauer consulted his party chiefs and he was tempted to call an election and hope to win an outright majority in the Reichstag, something few politicians could ever hope for. However, he was summoned to President Ebert’s office who told him that if election were called he would suspend them and declare a state of emergency. Ebert made it clear that although he was a Social Democrat himself, he did not want Germany to ‘become like France or Italy or any of those other half-baked Latin democracies. Our institutions must be strong and stable and serve the interests of the people rather than those of the party. Your duty is to the people, not to your party-members.’ With this, all talk of immediate elections was halted. However, the political wind was definitely against Muller, who became increasingly quiescent when it came to economy policy.
Despite Ebert’s protestations, 1926 would see an election after all. Ebert’s seven year term as President of the Reich was over and it was time for fresh elections to be held. In a move which came as a relief to many Germans (and indeed many social democrats) Ebert decided not to run again. He was too closely associated with the horrors of 1919 and had become increasingly unpopular as his term wore on. He decided to be remembered as the saviour of the Reich rather than a doddering old politician posing as a statesman. The first round of voting, four candidates drew ahead. The first was Wilhelm Marx of the Catholic Centre Party; the second was Gustav Noske of the SPD, the third was Ernst Daumig of the ILP. The fourth was Karl Jarres, who was supported by the National Socialists, the Peoples’ Party and the smaller conservative parties, especially the Bavarians.
The election bucked the trend of ILP decline by the choice of SPD candidate. If the SPD had chosen a fresh-faced candidate or even an experienced elder-statesman from before the War they could easily have won. However, they chose Gustav Noske. Noske had been instrumental in putting down the 1919 Revolts and thus earned virtually no votes in Bavaria or the North. He earned only 25% of the vote; votes which would otherwise have been his fled to the ILP candidate Daumig, who was a friend of Muller’s and a softly-spoken intellectual and a historian. The conservatives fared poorly, and Jarres pulled out of the running after the first round. However, many in the establishment and indeed many independent pundits began to look around for someone who could unite Germany as no other man could; an elder statesman who could pilot Germany with a soft hand yet firm words. Thus it was that in the second round of voting, Paul von Hindenburg returned to public life.
Despite being slandered by the left-wing press as a traitor, a murderer and an arch-conservative, Hindenburg ran a dignified centrist campaign. He promised to respect the decisions of the people over internal affairs yet ruled that foreign relations should be piloted by someone with a long-term agenda rather than a politician who was up for election in a few years. He managed to woo enough centrist SPD supporters to edge Noske out of the race. The contest thus became one between the extreme left and a centrist-conservative alliance. Hindenburg won in a landslide and was sworn in as President in December 1926.
Richard Muller naturally painted the election as a victory for his party. He said that the fact that his candidate had gone head-to-head against Hindenburg rather than a representative of a more traditional party showed that Germany was willing to give radicalism a chance. In truth, the landslide result merely showed that Muller was politically isolated and vulnerable. The final nail in the coffin came when the Peoples’ Party and other smaller centrist parties formed the Liberal Democratic Union. The LDV (Liberaldemokratische Vereinung) attracted the same voters who had abandoned the SPD for Hindenburg in 1926 and would do so again in the next election.
Chancellor Bauer scented blood with the presidential election and, despite his own party’s failure, went to President Hindenburg requesting immediate elections. Hindenburg said he would listen to the will of the people, but was a smooth political operator and accepted Bauer’s request for elections. He guessed that if Muller could be forced from office, an SPD-LDV coalition could pilot Germany down a less radical course. The elections were held on the 5th May 1927 to much punditry, as Bauer was confirmed as a political maverick while Hindenburg lost his sheen as the non-political politician.
The election results were exactly as Hindenburg had wanted. The SPD scooped up 36% of the vote; impressive, but not as crushing as its victory in 1924. the LDV came second overall with 26%, mostly from the former liberal parties but also from former SPD voters. The ILP collapsed to 3% while the National Socialists under Rohm won 6%. Some columnists feared that the National Socialists would end what they called the Weimar Consensus, of social democracy and economic liberalism. However, others praised the 1927 election as a victory of that very consensus. The summary SPD-LDV coalition government was announced on 18th May, with Bauer returning as Chancellor for the third time.
The 1924 Coalition would fundamentally re-tool the German economy to one which would inspire other nations around the world and which would become the ‘third way’ of international political economy. Chancellor Bauer was a moderate Social Democrat, yet his Interior Minister Richard Muller had once been leader of the Revolutionary Shop Stewards Union and as leader of the Independent Labour Party had supported candidates who had called for President Ebert to be put to death for his government’s actions in Munich and Kiel. Giving him the Interior Ministry was seen by many as a disastrous choice; they feared Muller would use his control of the police and the courts to further his own political ends. The pundits failed to see the plots hatched behind doors after the election; Muller knew he could not push his revolutionary message alone, given that the SPD had won more than four times as many votes as his own party. He thus held the Interior Ministry as a bargaining chip when it came to the running of the economy; if the SPD pursued a too-moderate course of action, he would make threatening noises in the Ministry to force their hand. Bauer discussed this plan with President Ebert, who had misgivings about it, yet decided that if the worst came to the worst he could declare a state of emergency and rule by decree. Eventually, Muller was given the Interior Ministry and one of his deputies placed in the Finance Ministry as a thinly-disguised spy and agent provocateur.
The government quickly introduced legislation to the Reichstag to mandate Boards of Labour in every enterprise employing more than 200 people. It was stated that these Boards would be comprised of workers’ representatives, technical experts, managers and finally other interested parties such as major share-holders or, in the case of utilities such as railway companies, the government itself. Labour representatives would be chosen by secret ballot from among the workers themselves, while management representatives would be selected by the executives of the firm. The legislation was billed to liberals and conservatives as a way of giving greater control to proprietors and decreasing the chance of a devastating strike. To socialists, it was sold as the first step towards the democratisation of labour and socialisation of the entire economy. The legislation passed both houses of the legislature and was signed by President Ebert on 15th January 1925. It was initially met with concern by industrialists and foreign creditors, who feared that German companies would pass their private debt onto the state, which was infinitely harder to bargain with. However, after several months of negotiations and elections, the Boards were established successfully. The flagship project was the Mercedes Labour Board, which sat for the first time at nine o’clock in the morning of 16th April 1925. The items on its first agenda were the management of loans from the Industrial Reconstruction Fund and the issue of wages for part-time workers in a plant in Augsburg, which was accused of using part-time labour in order to under cut full-time unionised workers.
The Labour Boards were a huge success for the government, and although they had only a marginal effect on the economy they kept workers working rather than on picket lines and appeased the capitalist class that a Social Democrat government could be trusted with the economy. However, Muller’s plans for the economy extended further than these fairly centrist policies. He besieged Bauer over the nationalisation of industry and utilities; Bauer objected, saying that the government was already represented on labour boards for critical industries (an amendment to the legislation in 1926 gave the government representation on the Labour Boards for munitions firms). Muller said that his party was dedicated to the democratisation of the economy and he told Bauer that it was his duty as a socialist to support that aim. Bauer replied that he had duties as a socialist, duties as a Chancellor and duties as a German and that these did not always coincide. Muller threatened to resign n the early months of 1926 but was talked out of it by his deputies.
The modest economic gains made by the Boards of Labour translated into large political gains for the Social Democrat Party; support for the ILP fell away as all reckonings gave the SPD an increased share of the vote if elections were held in 1926. Bauer consulted his party chiefs and he was tempted to call an election and hope to win an outright majority in the Reichstag, something few politicians could ever hope for. However, he was summoned to President Ebert’s office who told him that if election were called he would suspend them and declare a state of emergency. Ebert made it clear that although he was a Social Democrat himself, he did not want Germany to ‘become like France or Italy or any of those other half-baked Latin democracies. Our institutions must be strong and stable and serve the interests of the people rather than those of the party. Your duty is to the people, not to your party-members.’ With this, all talk of immediate elections was halted. However, the political wind was definitely against Muller, who became increasingly quiescent when it came to economy policy.
Despite Ebert’s protestations, 1926 would see an election after all. Ebert’s seven year term as President of the Reich was over and it was time for fresh elections to be held. In a move which came as a relief to many Germans (and indeed many social democrats) Ebert decided not to run again. He was too closely associated with the horrors of 1919 and had become increasingly unpopular as his term wore on. He decided to be remembered as the saviour of the Reich rather than a doddering old politician posing as a statesman. The first round of voting, four candidates drew ahead. The first was Wilhelm Marx of the Catholic Centre Party; the second was Gustav Noske of the SPD, the third was Ernst Daumig of the ILP. The fourth was Karl Jarres, who was supported by the National Socialists, the Peoples’ Party and the smaller conservative parties, especially the Bavarians.
The election bucked the trend of ILP decline by the choice of SPD candidate. If the SPD had chosen a fresh-faced candidate or even an experienced elder-statesman from before the War they could easily have won. However, they chose Gustav Noske. Noske had been instrumental in putting down the 1919 Revolts and thus earned virtually no votes in Bavaria or the North. He earned only 25% of the vote; votes which would otherwise have been his fled to the ILP candidate Daumig, who was a friend of Muller’s and a softly-spoken intellectual and a historian. The conservatives fared poorly, and Jarres pulled out of the running after the first round. However, many in the establishment and indeed many independent pundits began to look around for someone who could unite Germany as no other man could; an elder statesman who could pilot Germany with a soft hand yet firm words. Thus it was that in the second round of voting, Paul von Hindenburg returned to public life.
Despite being slandered by the left-wing press as a traitor, a murderer and an arch-conservative, Hindenburg ran a dignified centrist campaign. He promised to respect the decisions of the people over internal affairs yet ruled that foreign relations should be piloted by someone with a long-term agenda rather than a politician who was up for election in a few years. He managed to woo enough centrist SPD supporters to edge Noske out of the race. The contest thus became one between the extreme left and a centrist-conservative alliance. Hindenburg won in a landslide and was sworn in as President in December 1926.
Richard Muller naturally painted the election as a victory for his party. He said that the fact that his candidate had gone head-to-head against Hindenburg rather than a representative of a more traditional party showed that Germany was willing to give radicalism a chance. In truth, the landslide result merely showed that Muller was politically isolated and vulnerable. The final nail in the coffin came when the Peoples’ Party and other smaller centrist parties formed the Liberal Democratic Union. The LDV (Liberaldemokratische Vereinung) attracted the same voters who had abandoned the SPD for Hindenburg in 1926 and would do so again in the next election.
Chancellor Bauer scented blood with the presidential election and, despite his own party’s failure, went to President Hindenburg requesting immediate elections. Hindenburg said he would listen to the will of the people, but was a smooth political operator and accepted Bauer’s request for elections. He guessed that if Muller could be forced from office, an SPD-LDV coalition could pilot Germany down a less radical course. The elections were held on the 5th May 1927 to much punditry, as Bauer was confirmed as a political maverick while Hindenburg lost his sheen as the non-political politician.
The election results were exactly as Hindenburg had wanted. The SPD scooped up 36% of the vote; impressive, but not as crushing as its victory in 1924. the LDV came second overall with 26%, mostly from the former liberal parties but also from former SPD voters. The ILP collapsed to 3% while the National Socialists under Rohm won 6%. Some columnists feared that the National Socialists would end what they called the Weimar Consensus, of social democracy and economic liberalism. However, others praised the 1927 election as a victory of that very consensus. The summary SPD-LDV coalition government was announced on 18th May, with Bauer returning as Chancellor for the third time.
It's allways nice to see the defeat of Bolshewiks.
But, what happend with Lenin?
Well technically the initial POD is that the Germans don't send Lenin back to Russia; he dies in obscurity in Europe while the Mensheviks and the SRs make an alliance to govern Russia, with rather sticky consequences...
edvader: yes the CCP is the Catholic Centre Party. It was, as the name suggests, a Centrist Party and was involved in nearly every Weimar coalition, even teaming up with the Nazis (not that I mean to diminish them by that, they were mostly a good lot). They're going to tear themselves apart rather bloodily though...
And yes alter Rathenau will become important in this TL. Given that he isn't assassinated ITTL he's going to come to the fore, especially after the liberals get their act together with the LDV. It's going to be a couple of years though before he becomes really important.
Thank you everyone for the comments-I was afraid for a while that there weren't enough comments on this thread but it's nice to see it revitalized. Any more comments and queries are welcome as indeed would any criticisms...
Part VIII: Keeping out Friends Close...
The SPD-LDV coalition of 1927 was economically unremarkable; Germany’s economy continued to grow at an average of 4% per annum, with especially strong growth in areas Germany had always excelled in; light industry, chemicals and machine tools. The Boards of Labour virtually ended strikes while wages rose and the gap between rich and poor actually shrank when everywhere else in the world was succumbing to an orgy of capitalist speculation. Germany’s consistent economic growth kept social unrest down and unemployment became virtually unknown except for pockets in the east where agricultural depression affected rural employment. The fact that Boards of Labour were only mandatory for firms employing over 100 people meant that small businesses still had relatively un-regulated labour pools which spurred growth especially in Prussia and Saxony where seasonal Polish labour from the countryside and across the border supplied a steady stream of cheap labour. That coupled with tax cuts and the slashing of reduction of tariffs with Poland and Czechoslovakia created dynamic, private-sector led growth from small businesses coupled with solid performance from larger firms.
The defining policies of Bauer’s third government would not be domestic but rather foreign. The Foreign Minister, Walter Rathenau was the leader of the LDV and an experienced diplomat and foreign representative. He and President Hindenburg co-operated closely on setting a new foreign policy for an economically reinvigorated Germany that was not ashamed of itself and was willing to assert itself in the name of its citizens. Walter Dankwort, Germany’s leading representative to the League of Nations, proposed a motion in September 1927 to add Germany to the League Council as a permanent member. This would put it alongside Great Britain, France, Japan and Italy. The motion was discussed in the Assembly and the Council; France and their supporters refused the motion and for a while Germany’s hopes looked dark, but then French resistance collapsed in the face of British and other powers’ desire to reintegrate Germany to the international system. Dankwort took his seat on the Permanent Council in March 1928 when the newly expanded body first met. The Council was simultaneously expanded to include 11 temporary members. As a sign of good will, Germany procured Poland, Czechoslovakia and Austria seats on the Council as thanks for their support.
With Germany now ranked as equal with the victorious powers of 1919, at least at the League of Nations, the government began to use its diplomatic clout to good use. In 1928 it successfully blocked Russian admission to the League, citing continued political violence and the repressive constitution as reasons for its continued pariah status. This may have been a solid political move in the short term, but it would only push Russia further off the edge of political normality. Dankwort set about cultivating the support of Eastern European members, especially former allies such as Bulgaria and Hungary as well as Romania which had been victorious but felt hard done by the peace.
But Germany was not the only nation asserting itself in Europe. In January 1923 Benito Mussolini had been appointed Prime Minister of Italy due to the support of his Black shirt squads and his own political magnetism. Having seduced Italy’s elites, he sought to woo the populace through a series of policy reforms which he hoped would make him loved and simultaneously make him dictator in all but name. He modelled his economic reforms on Germany’s, except Italian labour boards, so-called Chambers of Fascism, were in fact weighted against workers’ representatives and were politically impotent. He also launched a sabre-rattling policy which involved shelling Corfu and finally obtaining Fiume from Yugoslavia. In 1927 he made his supporter Zog king of Albania and he had plans to extend his influence into Yugoslavia and Greece. He was biding his time, however, for he feared French interference in his plans. The French Little Entente stood against any change to the status quo in Eastern Europe and Italy was still painfully weak following the disastrous First World War. Thus Mussolini began a policy of massive armament which he hoped by 1934 would make Italy at least as strong as France. a pipe-dream, perhaps, but a dangerous one for everyone in Europe.
The SPD-LDV coalition of 1927 was economically unremarkable; Germany’s economy continued to grow at an average of 4% per annum, with especially strong growth in areas Germany had always excelled in; light industry, chemicals and machine tools. The Boards of Labour virtually ended strikes while wages rose and the gap between rich and poor actually shrank when everywhere else in the world was succumbing to an orgy of capitalist speculation. Germany’s consistent economic growth kept social unrest down and unemployment became virtually unknown except for pockets in the east where agricultural depression affected rural employment. The fact that Boards of Labour were only mandatory for firms employing over 100 people meant that small businesses still had relatively un-regulated labour pools which spurred growth especially in Prussia and Saxony where seasonal Polish labour from the countryside and across the border supplied a steady stream of cheap labour. That coupled with tax cuts and the slashing of reduction of tariffs with Poland and Czechoslovakia created dynamic, private-sector led growth from small businesses coupled with solid performance from larger firms.
The defining policies of Bauer’s third government would not be domestic but rather foreign. The Foreign Minister, Walter Rathenau was the leader of the LDV and an experienced diplomat and foreign representative. He and President Hindenburg co-operated closely on setting a new foreign policy for an economically reinvigorated Germany that was not ashamed of itself and was willing to assert itself in the name of its citizens. Walter Dankwort, Germany’s leading representative to the League of Nations, proposed a motion in September 1927 to add Germany to the League Council as a permanent member. This would put it alongside Great Britain, France, Japan and Italy. The motion was discussed in the Assembly and the Council; France and their supporters refused the motion and for a while Germany’s hopes looked dark, but then French resistance collapsed in the face of British and other powers’ desire to reintegrate Germany to the international system. Dankwort took his seat on the Permanent Council in March 1928 when the newly expanded body first met. The Council was simultaneously expanded to include 11 temporary members. As a sign of good will, Germany procured Poland, Czechoslovakia and Austria seats on the Council as thanks for their support.
With Germany now ranked as equal with the victorious powers of 1919, at least at the League of Nations, the government began to use its diplomatic clout to good use. In 1928 it successfully blocked Russian admission to the League, citing continued political violence and the repressive constitution as reasons for its continued pariah status. This may have been a solid political move in the short term, but it would only push Russia further off the edge of political normality. Dankwort set about cultivating the support of Eastern European members, especially former allies such as Bulgaria and Hungary as well as Romania which had been victorious but felt hard done by the peace.
But Germany was not the only nation asserting itself in Europe. In January 1923 Benito Mussolini had been appointed Prime Minister of Italy due to the support of his Black shirt squads and his own political magnetism. Having seduced Italy’s elites, he sought to woo the populace through a series of policy reforms which he hoped would make him loved and simultaneously make him dictator in all but name. He modelled his economic reforms on Germany’s, except Italian labour boards, so-called Chambers of Fascism, were in fact weighted against workers’ representatives and were politically impotent. He also launched a sabre-rattling policy which involved shelling Corfu and finally obtaining Fiume from Yugoslavia. In 1927 he made his supporter Zog king of Albania and he had plans to extend his influence into Yugoslavia and Greece. He was biding his time, however, for he feared French interference in his plans. The French Little Entente stood against any change to the status quo in Eastern Europe and Italy was still painfully weak following the disastrous First World War. Thus Mussolini began a policy of massive armament which he hoped by 1934 would make Italy at least as strong as France. a pipe-dream, perhaps, but a dangerous one for everyone in Europe.