Proof that Clark can indeed write spectacular works of history without pushing the page count into the thousands. This book is no introduction to German (or, more specifically, Prussian) history, but I nonetheless found it highly readable despite my far greater familiar with the history of Eastern Europe than Germany. This book was also my first foray into “temporal studies” in history—that is, history that particularly studies the use, understanding, and interpretation of time, history, and (by extension) the future. Here again, I found Clark’s book highly intelligible despite having little experience with this approach to history—indeed, it has encouraged me to add more similar works to my reading list.
Clark focuses on how four different renditions of the German (or Prussian) state viewed history; how they used (or abused) history to accomplish their own ends; and how these varying perspectives towards history shaped visions of the future and of politics in turn. This is spread out over the course of four chapters, one per each person/period, in which Clark expounds on historical thinking of Frederick William of Brandenburg-Prussia (aka “the Great Elector”), King Frederick II “the Great” of Prussia, the great Prussian statesman Otto von Bismarck, and the National Socialists (with a focus on Hitler). Unlike his more popular works, here Clark offers scarce narrative history, instead focusing on the “visions of history” of these four figures (and company).
Among the most interesting takeaways, one only made clear once completing the book, is that the progression of thinking about history has not followed a linear or “progressive” path toward modernity. The Great Elector’s use of history in justifying his progressive seizure of power from the Prussian nobility feels, to me at least, considerably more “modern” than Frederick the Great’s “steady state” perspective. Bismarck’s “history-maker”-driven political strategy once again feels modern, yet the Nazi’s abuse, redefinition, and semi-abandonment of history seems as modern as it does pre-modern, or even “non-modern”. Though they were (usually) very well aware of their antecedents’ philosophies of history, successive generations of thinkers were not necessarily leaning or building on the thinking of preceding generations.
This book also has much to offer in terms of helping us understand the current political (especially geopolitical) moment. As Clark cogently argues in the book’s conclusion, the vision of history offered by Frederick William, the Great Elector and his court—the focus of the first chapter—has almost uncomfortably familiar echoes in Emmanuel Macron’s call to action to rejuvenate European Project. Like the Great Elector, Macron appears to see himself and his contemporaries presented with a number of possible futures to choose from; like the Great Elector, Macron has urged his peers to accept a greater centralization of sovereignty to adapt to shocks to the “status quo” emanating from, for example, Russia’s invasion of Ukraine.
A minor complaint, but this book (especially chapter one) would have benefited from the simple insertion of a map—I found it a bit puzzling to spend over two hundred pages solely focused on one specific region without having a map for reference. Additionally, I can’t help but feel like this book could’ve benefited from a better editor. Though much shorter than his other works, this book has many of the same tendencies as Clark’s more voluminous works: oversized sentences, page-length paragraphs, and the infrequent yet distracting side tangents that need not have made the final draft. At the same time, I feel that more could have been said and/or clarified at times. I found this especially the case in chapter four, on the Nazis, where Clark bounced between a few related ideas without ultimately tying the whole thing neatly together. And although I am not one for bloated conclusions, I also feel as if more should have been said in this book’s. Ending the book in 1945 naturally raises more questions about what came next, questions Clark only briefly addresses. And, as mentioned above, although Clark’s application of the book’s ideas to the present day is fascinating, it also feels underexplored—Clark rightly notes in the introduction how he connects the ideas in this book to the “taking our country back” and “MAGA” slogans of Brexit and Trumpism, but comes a bit short of quite doing so in the conclusion.
All in all, worth the read for those interested in the role that the “visions of history” of these four statesmen played in driving German history in the modern era.