To the student of comparative constitutional law the new Prussian constitution of November 30, 1920, is of scarcely less interest than that of the reconstituted German Empire itself. In sharp contrast to American state constitutions, the instrument is of moderate length, about four thousand words, and is limited to the bare outlines of a frame-work of government. All doctrinaire elements are lacking. There is even no bill of rights.
To understand the real nature of the government which now, under its new constitution, is attempting to guide the German nation through the perils of reconstruction is indeed a baffling problem. We are as yet too close to the events which brought it into existence and clothed it with constitutional forms to attempt their evaluation or to determine their significance. The revolution was so unlike what we should have expected as necessary to shift the ultimate power in the state from a narrow military and landed oligarchy to the masses of the people, that a doubt forces itself upon us as to its genuineness. The war, with its shattering of national ideals, its appalling toll of life, the grinding misery which it imposed, and the insuperable financial bondage to which it condemned the nation for an indefinite future, might account for a thorough popular disillusionment which would sweep the nation into the current of democracy. But if this were the case, we would expect a general enthusiasm for the new government, an evident popular sense of the passing of the dark night of autocratic rule and a joy in the light of a new and happier day.This is exactly what does not exist. There are three classes in Germany today. The first, who constitute only a small minority, are the nationalists and militarists who are bitterly opposed to the republic, and even now are agitating at every favorable opportunity for the restoration of the monarchy in its old form. The second class are likewise a comparatively small minority. They are the revolutionaries, the Spartacists with some of the Independent Socialists, who are just as strongly opposed to the government, using wherever possible the instruments of direct action to inaugurate the revolution which they believe has not yet been achieved. The vast mass of the nation appear to be utterly indifferent with respect to forms of government.
The revolution in Germany strikes the observer as different in essential respects from revolutions which have taken place in other countries. One looks, in such events, for a few short days of blood and battle; for power wrested by force from the grip of those who have held it; for popular turmoil, the citizenry waging conflict behind street barricades against the disciplined but gradually disintegrating and increasingly disaffected troops of the established government—in short, for a journée in which the overturn is speedily accomplished and the new régime quickly set up. But the German revolution affords no such spectacle. There has been, to be sure, street-fighting and bloodshed, but they have been incident to the attempt of the extremists to overthrow the revolutionary government or to compel it to undertake a more radical program. The revolution itself was bloodless, and the establishment of the provisional government under Ebert was only the last step in a crumbling process which had been evident during the latter part of the administration of Count von Hertling and the whole of that of Prince Max.
