Latest / The History of Germany: Kingdoms, War, and Rebuilding Europe — Fexingo History / Frederick the Great: Enlightened Despot or Ruthless Warrior
Transcript
- Lucas: Last time we left off with Prussia rising from a sandy backwater into a proper military state under the Soldier King. But his son, Frederick II, would take that machine and turn it into one of the great powers of Europe. And he did it with a flute in one hand and a sword in the other. Luna: So we're talking about Frederick the Great? Lucas: Exactly. Frederick the Great, or Friedrich der Große. He's one of those figures who seems almost too contradictory to be real. A poet and philosopher who wrote treatises in French, composed music, played the flute beautifully — and also invaded neighbouring states without a second thought. He was a devoted friend of Voltaire, but also a ruthless military leader. He called himself 'the first servant of the state', but he was an absolute monarch who dressed his soldiers in tight blue uniforms and drilled them until they moved like clockwork. Luna: Wait, so he was an enlightened despot? Lucas: That's the label historians use, yes. An enlightened despot — a ruler who used absolute power to implement rational reforms. Frederick did exactly that. He abolished torture, codified Prussian law in the Allgemeines Landrecht, promoted religious tolerance — he famously said 'In my kingdom, everyone can go to heaven in their own way.' He built the magnificent palace of Sanssouci at Potsdam, where he hosted Voltaire and other intellectuals. But he also built the Prussian army into a force that could take on Austria, France, and Russia at the same time. And he didn't hesitate to use it. Luna: When did his rule start? Lucas: He became king in 1740, at age 28. And he didn't waste any time. Within months of taking the throne, he invaded Silesia, a wealthy province of the Habsburg monarchy. The pretext was flimsy — he claimed some old Hohenzollern rights to parts of it — but really, he wanted the land, the industry, and the strategic advantage. This kicked off the War of Austrian Succession, which lasted eight years. And through sheer military brilliance, Frederick managed to hold onto Silesia, even though Prussia was much smaller than Austria. Luna: So he was a tactical genius from the start? Lucas: He learned fast. His first battle, Mollwitz in 1741, almost ended in disaster when his cavalry panicked and he had to be persuaded to leave the field. But his infantry held firm, and he won anyway. After that, he became a master of what's called 'oblique order' — he would mass his troops against one enemy flank, overwhelm it, then roll up the line. It was risky, but when it worked, it was devastating. He used it at the Battle of Leuthen in 1757, against a much larger Austrian army, and it's still studied in military academies today. Lucas: And that was during the Seven Years' War, which really defined his reputation. That war started in 1756, and this time Prussia faced not just Austria, but also France, Russia, and Sweden — a coalition that outnumbered them hugely. Frederick was almost crushed. At one point, he considered suicide. But then, in 1762, the Russian Empress Elizabeth died, and her successor, Peter III, was a huge fan of Frederick. He pulled Russia out of the war, and Prussia survived. Luna: So he got lucky. Lucas: He called it the Miracle of the House of Brandenburg. And it was lucky — but he also made his own luck by never giving up. After the war, he spent the rest of his reign rebuilding Prussia. He promoted agriculture, drained marshes, encouraged immigration, and reformed the bureaucracy. He also kept the army huge — Prussia had about 4% of its population in uniform, which was enormous for the time. Luna: What about his relationship with his father? I've heard it was pretty brutal. Lucas: It was. His father, Frederick William I, the Soldier King, was a harsh, pious man who saw his son's love of French philosophy and music as effeminate and un-Prussian. He beat Frederick, humiliated him, and even executed his best friend, Hans Hermann von Katte, in front of him when Frederick tried to flee to England. That broke Frederick in some ways. He became more obedient, but also more secretive and cynical. He learned to hide his true feelings. Luna: That's horrible. No wonder he was so complex. Lucas: Exactly. And that complexity shows in his relationship with Voltaire. They were friends for years, but it was a volatile friendship. Voltaire admired Frederick's intellect but was appalled by his militarism. Frederick, for his part, could be manipulative and petty. They eventually had a falling out, partly because of a nasty satire Voltaire published. But they also respected each other deeply. Lucas: Frederick also wrote extensively. His most famous work is 'Anti-Machiavel', written before he became king, where he argued that a prince should be virtuous and serve the people. Then he invaded Silesia. Voltaire joked about the irony, but Frederick defended himself by saying that the security of the state sometimes required actions that seemed immoral. He was a pragmatist above all. Luna: So he was a philosopher-king who didn't let philosophy get in the way of power. Lucas: Exactly. And that's why he's so fascinating. He genuinely believed in reason and progress, but he also believed that a strong state was necessary to protect those values. He once said, 'My people and I have come to an agreement which satisfies us both. They say what they wish, and I do what I wish.' It's not exactly democracy, but it's an early version of the social contract in practice. Lucas: He also had a major impact on German culture. He was a Francophile — he spoke French better than German, and he thought German literature was barbaric. That actually held back German cultural development for a while, because the court looked down on German-language arts. But later, Goethe and Schiller would revive it. Luna: So he was a mixed legacy for Germany? Lucas: Absolutely. On one hand, he made Prussia a great power, which eventually led to German unification under Bismarck. He established a tradition of efficient, rational governance and religious tolerance that influenced modern Germany. On the other hand, he also cemented the military caste system and the idea that the state's interests justify almost anything. That legacy would come back in more troubling forms later. Luna: What happened to him at the end? Lucas: He died in 1786, at Sanssouci, alone except for his dogs. He had no children, so his nephew Frederick William II succeeded him. He was buried at the palace, but during World War II, his remains were moved to protect them from bombing. After the war, they ended up in a castle in the West, and only in 1991 were they finally returned to Sanssouci, as he had wished. Luna: It's amazing how much he packed into his life. Lucas: He did. And he left behind a Prussia that was totally transformed — a small, poor state had become a European power. His methods — the combination of Enlightenment ideals and military strength — would influence leaders from Napoleon to Bismarck. He's still a controversial figure in Germany today, but there's no denying his impact. Luna: Thanks, Lucas. That really helps me understand him beyond just the 'great' label. Lucas: Glad to help. Next time, we'll look at how Prussia kept that power after Frederick, and the challenges that led to the Napoleonic Wars.