# The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries/Volume 10/Bismarck as an Orator

BISMARCK AS AN ORATOR
By Edmund von Mach, Ph.D.
ISMARCK was not an orator in the ordinary sense of the word, nor did he wish to be one. On the contrary, he looked with mistrust on silver-tongued orators. "You know," he said in the Diet on February 3, 1866, "I am not an orator. * * * I cannot appeal to your emotions with a clever play of words intended to obscure the subject-matter. My speech is simple and clear." And a few years later he said: "Eloquence has spoiled many things in the world's parliaments. Too much time is wasted, because everybody who thinks he knows anything wishes to speak, even if he has nothing new to say. More breath is wasted on the air than thought is bestowed on the questions under discussion. Everything has been settled in party caucuses, and in the House the representatives talk for no other purpose than to show the people how clever they are, or to please the newspapers, which are expected to be lavish with their praise in return. If things go on like this, the time will come when eloquence will be considered a common nuisance, and a man will be punished if he has spoken too long."
Bismarck's most famous words against mere eloquence were uttered in the Reichstag on April 29, 1881: "You must be something of a poet if you wish to be a good orator, and you must possess the gift of improvisation. When I was younger there were public entertainments in which music alternated with oratorical improvisations. The improvisator was given a theme of which he knew nothing, and on which he discoursed, often brilliantly. It even happened that he was altogether convincing until we ​remembered whore we were. I am merely saying this to show that we should not entrust the direction of big affairs to the mere masters of eloquence any more than to the improvisators. Least of all should these people be placed in charge of bureaus, or be given a minister's portfolio. I only wish to prove that eloquence is a gift which exerts today an influence out of proportion to its worth. It is overestimated. A good orator must be something of a poet, which means that he cannot be a stickler for truth and mathematical accuracy. He must be inspiring, quick, and excitable, able himself to kindle the enthusiasm of others. But a good orator I fear will rarely play a good game of whist or of chess, and will be even less satisfactory as a statesman. The emotional element and not cool reason must predominate in his make-up. Physiologically, I believe, the same man cannot be a good orator and a calm judge. I am reminded of the list of qualities enumerated by Mephisto in Goethe's Faust: 'The lion's strength, the deer's celerity.' Such things are never found united in one human body. And thus we often find eloquence overtopping and dangerously controlling reason, to the complete satisfaction of thoughtless multitudes. But a man of discretion, cool and accurate in his deliberations, to whom we are glad to entrust the direction of big and weighty matters, can scarcely ever be a perfect orator."
In this last sentence Bismarck apparently wished to draw a line of distinction between himself and some of his parliamentary opponents whom he admired as fluent orators, but whose leadership he deemed to be unsafe. If he considered himself a poor public speaker he was greatly mistaken. His contemporaries held different views, and several of them fortunately were so deeply impressed by his power that they analyzed the means with which he won his great parliamentary victories. His bitter political opponent, Louis Bamberger, for instance, said:
"Bismarck controls his audience by the noticeable force and the exhaustiveness of his mental labor. He has ​improved with practice, and the description of him given in 1866 is no longer quite fair—'No charm of voice, no sonorous phrases, nothing to captivate an audience. His voice, while clear and distinct, is dry and unsympathetic. He speaks monotonously, with many pauses, at times he almost stutters, as if an obstinate tongue refused to obey orders, and as if he had to wrestle for the adequate expression of his thoughts. He rocks to and fro, somewhat restlessly, and in no relation to what he is saying. But the longer he speaks the more he overcomes all difficulties, he succeeds in adapting his words, without the least waste, to his thoughts, and generally reaches a powerfully effective end.' It is still true that his words advance at first slowly, then with a rush, and again haltingly. But for all those who do not consider the even and melodious flow of an address to be its greatest perfection Bismarck's way of speaking is not without some charm. It enables the hearer to follow the mental exertions of the speaker, and thus rivets attention better than many a smooth and sonorous diction which glides along nicely because it has no inner difficulties to overcome. Often Bismarck succeeds in taking hold of his subject with trenchant wit, and in illustrating it with arguments which he boldly takes from every day life. * * * We must confess that his speeches, if artless, are yet full of imagery. His cool and clear mind does not despise the charm of warm color, just as his robust constitution is not void of nervous irritability. His ingenuous appearance, with which he is apt to surprise an audience, should not win our ready confidence, for all who have had to do with him know that his astonishingly intimate remarks are calculated to mislead by their excessive frankness, or their excessive lack of it. If he dissembles, he often misses his mark by exaggeration, and one can truly say that he has deceived his opponents more frequently by speaking the truth than by making false pretenses. Behind his blustering behavior you can often spy the merry wag. To his opponents he can be provoking, malicious, ​even spiteful, but he is never false! He does not belong to that class of public men who believe that the world can be governed with sentimental phrases, or that evil conditions are alleviated when the discussion is interspersed with pompous generalities. On the contrary, he loves to turn his phrases so that everything will appear in a strong and glaring light."
Another observer, quoted by Hans Kraemer in his "Speeches of Prince Bismarck," sums up his impressions as follows:
"Bismarck has before him a narrow strip of paper on which, in preparation, he has jotted down a few words with his inspired quill-pen. Occasionally he looks at his notes, while he is speaking, rocking himself very slowly to and fro, and twisting his thumbs. He often hesitates, almost stutters, and sometimes even makes a slip of the tongue. He seems to be wrestling with his thoughts, while his words seem to ascend against their wish, for he makes a very brief pause after every two or three words. * * * He speaks without gestures, pathos or intonation, and without emphasizing any of his words. Is this the man who as early as 1847 was the leader of the nobility in the old Diet and their quickest man at repartee; who, in 1849 and 1850 as a member of the Second House and the United Parliament of Erfurt, whipped the liberal majority to a frenzy of fury with his bitter and poignant speeches; who as the President of the Ministry since 1862 has faced, almost alone, the solid phalanx of the Liberals, replying to their ebullitions of pride and confidence in their own strain, and answering on the spot and with brilliant presence of mind their sarcastic and malicious attacks, yes even challenging them with witty impromptus, and hurting his opponents to the core? Yes, he is the same man, and occasionally he can be as witty and bitter as he used to be. But since his great victories he has shown the more serious demeanor of a statesman. He is calmly objective and conciliatory, as befits his greatness, which is today universally ​recognized. The longer he speaks the more the peculiar attractions of his way of speaking become manifest. His expression is original and fresh, pithy and robust, honest and straightforward."
Bismarck did not write out his speeches, and the published accounts of what he said are copied from the official stenographic reports. Logically Bismarck never left a sentence incomplete, but grammatically he often did so, when the wealth of ideas qualifying his main thought had grown to greater proportions than he had anticipated. His diction was at all times precise, which led to a multiplicity of qualifications—adjectives, appositions, adverbs, parentheses, and the like. Desirous of convincing his hearers, he often felt the need of repeating the same thought in various ways until he at last hammered it in, as it were, with one big blow—with one phrase easily remembered and readily quoted. It is these phrases which have given the names to many of his speeches, namely: "The Honest Broker," "Practical Christianity," or "We shall never go to Canossa."
He himself readily quoted from the sayings and writings of other great men; and was in this respect wholly admirable both for the catholicity of his taste and the singular appropriateness of his citations. He was apparently as familiar with the great authors of antiquity as with the modern German, French and English writers. Nor was he afraid of using a foreign tongue when no German phrase occurred to him to match the exact meaning of his thought.
The reader will realize, even more than the hearer, that it was not the form of Bismarck's speeches which swept his audiences off their feet, and often changed a hostile Reichstag or Diet into an assembly of men eager to do his bidding, but that it was his firm grasp on the realities of life and his supreme command of everything which makes for true statesmanship. His policies were not based on snap judgments, they were the result of serious thought. All this showed in his speeches, and made him one of the most powerfully effective speakers of all times.