Nov. 9, German Date of Fate. Part 1: 1848 – the Execution of Robert Blum

November 9th is known in Germany as its ‘Day of Fate’. It wasn’t only the date on which in 1989 the Berlin Wall came down. So many other important historical events occurred on this day that the German government could hardly turn it into Reunification Day (that became October 3rd instead).

In 2014, Paul Sullivan, myself and some other Slow Travel Berlin writers divided the historical events of the ‘ninths’ between us and published stories on them on slowtravelberlin.com. As that website is now, sadly, partly unavailable, I am reposting my stories on this blog. (Check here for the 1918 story on the Kaiser’s abdication).

November 9th, 1848: the Execution of Robert Blum

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Carl Steffeck (1818-1890, attributed), Execution of Robert Blum, 1848/49, Deutsches Historisches Museum (wikicommons)

Germany may  not have escaped Napoleon’s seemingly unstoppable armies – but it did, for a long time, manage to avoid the liberal, bourgeois revolution that had allowed Napoleon to come to power in France in the first place. When the dust from the Napoleonic wars had settled, Germany was still as Ancien Régime as ever, a very loose federation of 38 independent states (including four “free cities”), each of which had their own form of usually monarchic and absolutist government.

The revolution of 1848 initially changed all that. Remembered both as a bourgeois, liberal uprising as well as the first expression of the socialist or communist movement (the terms were still used interchangeably at the time), the event came about via an emphatically diverse set of players: lawyers, historians, professors of German linguistics, socialist thinkers…even the German gymnastics league. Each group’s purposes and goals were equally diverse. Some wanted liberal reforms such as freedom of expression and an end to censorship, others wanted social reforms or greater political and national unity throughout the German speaking parts of Europe.

The revolution itself was triggered by events elsewhere in Europe but in Germany it began in the Grand-Duchy of Baden and rapidly spread throughout present Germany and Austria. The revolutionaries, much to their own surprise, were often initially successful in forcing their absolute monarchs into accepting new, liberal cabinets. Within a short time, they had in many places managed to abolish press censorship, liberate crofters from serfdom and initiate the first steps towards greater national cooperation by holding elections for a constituent National Assembly (which held its sessions in Frankfurt’s St. Paul’s church).

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Today’s Gorki Theater (just off Unter den Linden), Schinkel’s old Singakademie, was the home of 1848’s short-lived Prussian National Assembly. Photo: Robin Oomkes

However, by mid-1848 it started to become clear to the ruling classes that the “Liberal” (right-wing, bourgeois) and “Democrat” (left-wing, socialist) strains of the revolution were hopelessly divided on many issues. A counter-revolutionary movement began, in which monarchs and the aristocracy joined forces with the Liberals in order to defeat the Democrats.

Enter Robert Blum (1807-1848). The son of a cooper from Cologne, Blum tried his hand at many trades before starting a career as a writer. Moving to Leipzig, he started a newspaper that promoted democracy. Working as a journalist helped feed his conviction that the Kingdom of Saxony’s political oppression and heavy hand of censorship should be replaced with a republic. Despite his controversial views, the authorities allowed him to be elected as a Leipzig city councillor in 1847.

In 1848, Blum was a key player during the March revolution in Saxony, where, through his rousing speeches in Leipzig and Dresden, he managed to get the King to replace his government with a more liberal set of ministers. He was elected to the Frankfurt Parliament, and joined its Constitutional Committee. But as the rifts grew in the Frankfurt Parliament between Liberals and Democrats, Blum accused the Liberals of being too cosy with the old clique of monarchs and aristocrats.

Things came to a head in September 1848 after a number of failed parliamentary votes. The Liberals finally won the vote, the Democrats staged demonstrations in protest, and the Liberals proved Blum’s earlier point by asking the Prussian and Austrian armies to crush the Democrats’ protests.

In Vienna, developments had turned to violence too. Revolutionaries had occupied the city and ousted the Habsburg Kaiser and his army. Blum travelled to Vienna to convey the sympathy of the Frankfurt Democrats, joining the insurgents as a commander on the barricades. The Imperial Army retook Vienna after heavy fighting on 1 November, and Blum was arrested. Despite diplomatic efforts both from the Frankfurt Parliament (who claimed Blum’s immunity from prosecution as a deputy) and from the Saxon authorities, the Imperial military command, who considered Blum a most dangerous anarchist, condemned him to death in a two hour trial on the night of 8 November. He was shot at 9 in the morning of November 9th, 1848.

The Frankfurt Parliament protested at the death of one of their most prominent deputies, and decreed that those guilty of Blum’s death should be punished – but no action was ever taken. The shocked reaction among the German people upon learning of Blum’s death initially strengthened the revolutionary movement, but the reactionary forces had by then already regained the upper hand and the revolution of 1848 lost its momentum.

Blum became something of a martyr for democracy throughout the nineteenth century, and interest in him was renewed in the centenary of his death in 1948 – when both Germanies needed new national examples. However, although the German revolution of 1848 fit the socialist narrative of being a crucial stepping stone in Marx and Engels’ dialectics (not entirely coincidentally, it was also the year that Marx and Engels published their ‘Communist Manifesto’) – Blum’s emphasis on democracy and freedom of speech meant he could not initially be positioned as a hero by the incoming Communist regime of East Germany. However, there are many monuments to the revolution of 1848 in East Berlin, such as the one on Sredzkistrasse near Kollwitzplatz.

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GDR-era monument to the ‘Heroes of 1848’, Sredszkistrasse, Berlin. Photo: Robin Oomkes

There’s also the Cemetery for the Fallen of the March Revolution hidden away in Volkspark Friedrichshain (the monument there also remembers the fallen of the November revolution of 1918 – more on which we’ll cover in another story in this series). The Friedrichshain monument has an excellent, bilingual indoor and outdoor exhibition on the significance of 1848’s revolt – admission is free.

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Cemetery for the March Fallen, Volkspark Friedrichshain, Berlin. Photo: Robin Oomkes

Looking back at importance today of the first fateful ninth of November in German history, the murder of Robert Blum on that date is a symbol of all that the Revolution of 1848 failed to achieve – had the initial promise of progress on liberalization, democracy, unification and a representative national parliament been fulfilled, then there possibly might have been no war with France in 1870, no Kaisers, no World War I, no Versailles, no Nazis and World War II, and probably no GDR either.

Words: Robin Oomkes

Editing: Paul Sullivan

 

 

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Emperor Trajan – taking Romans to the limites at Xanten

Reconstructed Harbour Temple at Xanten Archeological Park
Reconstructed Harbour Temple at Xanten Archeological Park

Paul Theroux, the grumpy travel author, complained in The Pillars of Hercules (in which he travels around the Mediterranean clockwise, from Gibraltar to Ceuta), that he had already had enough of Roman amphitheatres by the time he reached Valencia. By that time, he’d barely covered half of Spain, and he still had the whole Mediterranean seaboard to go.

No chance of overkill by amphitheatres in Northern Europe though. The Romans faithfully maintained their northern limes with army camps (familiar to Asterix lovers) and occasional cities for retired legionnaires, but there weren’t many sites for high-brow cultural entertainment (such as gladiator battling with wild animals).

Amphitheater overlooking the Rhine at Xanten Archeological Park
Reconstruction of the amphitheatre at Xanten, overlooking the Rhine

But at Xanten, a small town on the banks of the Rhine halfway between Düsseldorf and the Dutch border, there was an amphitheatre, and what’s more, it’s been reconstructed. Since the site of the former army camp was discovered in the 1930s, many former buildings have been restored and the park is a huge hit with German and Dutch grammar school classes.

School groups get to blow off steam on the army camp's bouncy castle. North Gate in the background.
School groups get to blow off steam on the army camp’s bouncy castle. North Gate in the background.

And for good reason: in all of Northern Europe, there isn’t anything remotely as powerful to suggest the might of the Romans on the edge of their Empire – Hadrian’s Wall is probably the only site to surpass it. In Roman days, Xanten was named Colonia Ulpia Traiana, which neatly takes us to the dead Emperor whose name it bore:

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Trajan’s warrior statue at Xanten. Original is at the Louvre.

Marcus Ulpius Traianus, or Trajan to his English friends, was one of Edward Gibbons’ Five Good Emperors, all others having done more harm than good to the Empire. Trajan is not only known for being a Good Emperor, embellishing Rome with a Forum, a market and his self-named Column, but he also took the Roman Empire to its greatest geographical stretch by the end of his reign in 117.

Archeology Museum covers the remains of the Roman baths at Xanten
Archeology Museum covers the remains of the Roman baths at Xanten

The Colonia at Xanten was very much on the limes  – the name that classicists traditionally have used for the fortified border of the Roman Empire, but wikipedia says that this use of limes is all wrong: the Romans themselves are supposed to have called it the Munimentum Traiani, or Trajan’s Bulwark – I’m quite happy to go with that too, as it fits nicely with Trajan’s colony on the Rhine!

Excavated central heating system at Xanten
Excavated central heating system at Xanten

But whatever the politically correct name of the limes on the Rhine may be, its remains are getting ever more attention. German paper Die Welt reported recently that the adjacent countries and regions are nominating the whole stretch, from Remagen (famous with WW2 movie fans) down to where the Rhine meets the North Sea at Katwijk, as a Unesco World Heritage site.

I’d be very happy if that happened – as a boy I lived in Wageningen, on the banks of the Rhine, which once was thought to have been the Roman army camp Vada, and our Dutch house is in Oegstgeest, also on the limes and close to where the northernmost branch of the Rhine flows down to the sea. Living right on this historical frontier always made a great impression on me, and I’d love this heritage to get the recognition and publicity it deserves.

Xanten Archeological Park

Am Rheintor, 46509 Xanten

Admission: 9/6 euros, under 18 free