Was the Empire Holy, Roman, or an Empire at All?

Johannes Siedersleben, Oxford, May 2019

The Holy Roman Empire lasted over a thousand years, from 800 to 1806. The title Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation became established not before 1500, and Voltaire’s remark about it being neither holy, Roman nor an empire was published in 1756 when the Empire was agonizing. Was Voltaire right?

Was it holy?

Holy is a big word. Who could claim it? Let’s declare holy, for the sake of simplicity, whatever is endorsed or at least approved by the Pope. Now, out of 31 Emperors, 23 were anointed by the Pope, four of whom were excommunicated, some of them repeatedly. But even with 19 anointed and not excommunicated Emperors, the relationship between Pope and Emperor has always been an uneasy one. Sometimes there was synergy, at other times conflict or even war with the Papal States, largely unfit to defend themselves. The Pope created the Emperor by the grace of God. The divine power thus obtained was a precious advantage over competitors. The Emperor was mighty, largely unassailable by his Kings and Dukes, but dependent on the Pope who could withdraw his benevolence at any time, possibly by excommunication. The Emperor, on the other hand, could protect the Pope, which he sometimes did, albeit never for free. Sometimes he let him down or even waged war against him. The Pope owed gratitude at least to the early Emperors, such as Charlemagne, for their subduing the Gentiles, thus extending the Christian realm on Earth.

The mutual dependency of Pope and Emperor gave rise to a fragile and occasionally toppling balance of power which lasted from 800 to about 1300. The question was simply who comes first, the Pope or the Emperor. While the Pope could claim to be nearer to God, the Emperor had more troops, at least as long as they were willing to obey him. A particular bone of contention was the investiture. By the year 1000 or so, bishops were appointed not by the Pope but a by secular authority with three eminent benefits for the secular ruler: (1) the to-be-bishop paid a large sum for his office, (2) he had no heir, so the fiefdom would return to its previous owner and could be sold anew, and (3) of the two bosses of a bishop, the Pope was clearly the less important. This didn’t amuse the Pope, and the question of investiture was challenged from about 1000 on. It came to a climax in 1077 with Henry IV begging Gregory VII’s pardon at Canossa. Henry was forgiven, but no peace achieved: Three years later, Henry attacked Rome, deposed Gregory VII a second time, and was himself re-excommunicated by Urban II, the one who ignited the Crusades.

Over time, Emperors and Kings were less inclined to accept the Pope as the Number One on Earth. Famous examples include Frederick I Barbarossa (excommunicated in 1160 by Alexander III, together with Victor IV, a rivalling Pope), Frederick II (excommunicated in 1227 for being late at the fifth cru-sade), the French King Philipp IV who had Boniface XIII locked in a hen house for two days in 1303, and finally Charles V sacking Rome in 1527. After 1300 the question of who comes first was clearly decided in favour of the Emperor. The secular power of the Pope has been waning ever since, due to a considerable degree to the Emperors, however most Christian they might have been. The death-blow came not before 1870, when the Papal States were reduced to the Vatican we know today. The relationship between Church and Empire was particularly stressed whenever there were two or more competing Popes, and of course by the Reformation which was, after a century of struggles and the devastation of large swathes of Europe, at least partly endorsed by the Empire but never by Rome. Voltaire was right: This Empire wasn’t holy.

Was it Roman?

While the ever-changing imperial territory did include Italian lands such as Lombardy or Sicily, Rome was never part of it. So how could the Empire be Roman? It claimed to be Roman in virtue of it succeeding the classical Roman Empire which had disappeared with the deposition of Romulus Augustulus in 476. But only the western half had vanished. The eastern half, the Byzantine Empire, lived on happily until 1453 when Constantinople fell. The successor of the Roman Empire in 476 was obviously Byzant, uncontested until 800 when Charles, the not-yet-Charlemagne, claimed the imperial title. Charles was at the height of his power; he had subjugated numerous tribes from Lombardy to Saxony, propagating Christianity by fire and sword. At the same time, anarchy prevailed in Constantinople: Constantine VI had been deposed and blinded by his mother Empress Irene, to be herself overthrown in 802. When the incumbent Pope Leo III was attacked by his enemies in 799, Charles gladly sent his troops to the Pope’s rescue, but for a fee: The Pope crowned Charles as Emperor of Rome, leaving Irene behind, not eligible because of her sex. Byzant was not happy about this course of events, but after the Schism of 1054, Byzant ceased to attach any importance to whatever Roman title. The Empire’s claim to be Roman is arguable but not convincing.

Was it an Empire?

An empire should have at least an Emperor, a capital, an administration, an army and a common policy, both domestic and foreign. Rome and Byzant, Russians and Ottomans were no doubt justly called empires. The British Empire had everything but an Emperor, the German to-be-Empire did have one but lacked everything else. The capital was wherever the Emperor happened to sojourn. The Empire was divided into hundreds of political entities, some of them big and mighty, others tiny and insignificant. There was a plethora of currencies, tariff-barriers every few miles, overlapping cognizance, to say nothing of the bishops whose competence was not always clearly defined. It was a byzantine mess. The administration lay on the shoulders of numerous kings, dukes and other no-bles, with the Emperor on top as nominal overlord, his influence varying vastly and waning after the Reformation. The Reformation is also the story of Kings and Dukes rebelling against the Emperor, using it as a pretext coming in handy.

Empires are supposed to defend themselves against common enemies and to lead a peaceful domestic life. The German Empire hardly lived up to this claim. It did defend itself repeatedly against the Ottomans, from the Battle of Lechfeld in 955 to the last Austro-Turkish War from 1787 to 1792. But rarely could it be considered a united political entity. The eight or so Austro-Turkish wars evenly spread from 1526 to 1792 were waged by Austria with the allies she happened to find, not by the Empire. Throughout history you find members of the Empire on both sides of the battlefield: The Empire was divided and devastated by the Thirty Year’s War when the protestant countries fought together with Sweden and later France against Austria and Bavaria. This apocalyptic event was one of the worst civil wars of all time. After the Treaty of Westphalia in 1648, the German Empire was less of an Empire than ever, reduced to a set of loosely connected countries, fighting and uniting in various alliances. In the Spanish Succession War (1701 to 1714), Bavaria fought with France against Habsburg, as did Prussia, Bavaria and Saxony in the Austrian Succession War (1740 to 1748). Eight years later, in the Seven Year’s War (1756 to 1763), Austria and Saxony found themselves fighting with France against the English and their allies Prussia, Brunswick, Hesse-Kassel and Schaumburg Lippe, all members of the Empire. For good measure we see Prussia on the side of the Ottomans in the last Austro-Turkish war in 1787. Voltaire was right: This was not an Empire, at any rate not after 1648.

References

Klaus Fitschen: Wie die Deutschen Christen wurden. Elsengoldverlag, 2016

Neil MacGregor: Germany. Memories of a Nation. Penguin Books, 2014

Joachim Whaley: Germany and the Holy Roman Empire Volume I. Oxford University Press, 2012

Joachim Whaley: Germany and the Holy Roman Empire Volume II. Oxford University Press, 2012

Joachim Whaley: The Holy Roman Empire. A Very Short Introduction. Oxford University Press, 2018

Peter H. Wilson: The Holy Roman Empire. Penguin Books, 2016