Fascinated by Frederick
May 2012 Life

“Old Fritz,” as Frederick was affectionately known, always had time to listen to the concerns of his subjects – as Adolph Menzel’s painting “The Petition (Out on a Ride),” 1849 depicts.
“Old Fritz,” as Frederick was affectionately known, always had time to listen to the concerns of his subjects – as Adolph Menzel’s painting “The Petition (Out on a Ride),” 1849 depicts.

On the 300th birthday of the great Prussian king, finally a more rounded view – By Klaus Grimberg

Who was Frederick II of Prussia? A rebellious aesthete and philosopher king? A coolly calculating powerbroker and successful general? Or was he an inconsiderate egomaniac at heart, who became an embittered misanthrope in old age? The answer is simple: Frederick, known as “the Great” even before he died, was all of the above.

When Frederick ascended the throne on May 31, 1740, at the age of 28, no one could have imagined the extent to which he would fundamentally alter not only the state of Prussia but also the power structures of Europe. In the history of Prussia, his name is primarily linked with the conquest of Silesia. His bold attack on the Hapsburg province in December 1740 set off a conflict that would lead to three wars and last for more than 20 years.

The Seven Years’ War, raging from 1756 to 1763, brought Prussia almost to its knees. The struggle for Silesia had developed into a European trial of strength in which Frederick was pitted against the overwhelming force of Austria, France, Russia and other allies. Following the disastrous defeat of the Prussian army at the Battle of Kunersdorf on August 12, 1759, the King and his country were saved by what became known as “the miracle of the House of Brandenburg” – the victorious Austrians and Russians did not march on nearby Berlin, but withdrew behind the line of the Oder River.

The war dragged on for another four years, and the battling armies looted and devastated vast areas. In early 1762, Peter III, an admirer of Frederick, became Czar of Russia, and soon took his country out of the coalition against Prussia. One year later, the war-weary rivals made peace, agreeing to the “status quo ante.” Frederick got to keep Silesia, and Prussia was established as a new power in Europe. But the price the King paid for this was high – many of his provinces were in ruins, the state was bankrupt, and the economy was a wreck. Frederick was to spend the rest of his life trying to repair the damage done by the Silesian Wars.

Despite the ambivalence of Frederick’s victory, following generations have been quick to make one-sided interpretations of it. In the 19th century, the King of Prussia was proclaimed the pioneer of German unity – although he primarily spoke French and could barely express himself in German. The Nazis’ exploitation of the Frederick legend was even more blatant. His preemptive strikes and unbending resistance to a seemingly unbeatable foe were used to justify the regime’s own wars. Historians in East and West Germany argued over the “true” image of Frederick and of Prussia until the end of the 1980s. Even communist East Germany sought to make the long-spurned sovereign a part of its materialistic interpretation of history.

Yet in the collective memory of more than 200 years, the dominant image is that of “Old Fritz.” It reflects the unique mixture of benevolent ruler, eccentric, and lonely cynic. The King paid little attention to his appearance and is usually depicted in a worn old uniform. Like most people in his day, he did not particularly value personal hygiene, nor did he have very good table manners, particularly when it came to his adored dogs. His rides around the country and inspection tours to the provinces, in which he was often thrown together with ordinary people, are the stuff of legend. The sources agree that he was frequently open to the interests of his subjects.

When we look back on Frederick over the 300 years since his birth, it is the first time that we are able to approach the King of Prussia in a neutral and unbiased way and to understand him in the context of his time. The battles of interpretation surrounding this controversial ruler have been fought, and the view of him is no longer ideologically blinkered. The comprehensive series of exhibitions in Berlin and Brandenburg which shed light on various aspects of Frederick’s life certainly aim to keep an open mind.

Who was Frederick? The musically gifted prince who rebelled against the strict upbringing imposed by his father? The sensitive heir to the throne who created a philosophical refuge at Rheinsberg Palace? The decisive reformer who abolished torture in Prussia on the third day of his reign? The merciless general who sacrificed thousands of soldiers in the field? Or “Old Fritz” who alternated between care for his subjects and disillusioned sarcasm? As noted above, Frederick was all of these. The fascination of this historical personality means that a look back on his life leaves a broad spectrum for interpretation and projection – even today.