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Révision: The 1890 Constitutional Convention
RÉVISION: THE 1890 CONSTITUTIONAL CONVENTION:
“Time is the king of men; he's both their parent, and he is their grave, and gives them what he will, not what they crave.” ~ Pericles, Prince of Tyre
France, victorious. Marianne reanimated. Boulanger triumphant. The Marshal opened the new decade at soaring heights - heights which France would perhaps never reach again [1]. His promise of “Revanche” had been achieved, Germany had been humiliated, and revenge for 1870 had at last been won. Revitalised and emboldened, “La République” now stood tall on the continent once more.
Parades and jubilant celebrations followed unabated for almost two months upon the majestic “retour des héros”. In similar celebration, homebound from the front, Marshal Boulanger soon made it his devout mission to tour every corner and quiet facet of his new France. Never one to shirk from his military prowess, he was of course flanked at all moments by his guard of loyal troops and lieutenants - more showman than politician at heart. Though Boulanger was not a natural orator, and would generally appear to say only a few brief words - his simple appearance alone was often enough to alight the crowds with teeming excitement. Boulanger was surely the saviour of France, the man who had rescued it from the chaos of the Third Republic, brought it from the depths of defeat to the triumphant heights of victory? - no wonder then they reacted with such jubilance at his sight.
Though continuing exuberance seemed to be in no short supply, these waves of celebrations would of course have come to a close someday, and let the far harder process of governing begin. The French public had proven themselves a fickle audience in the preceding century, and hence the New Directory’s attention swiftly turned to the full satisfaction of Boulanger’s other great promises - “Révision et Restauration”. Assured in their success of the first and most difficult pledge of “Revanche”, these two latter oaths appeared little more than open goals, which could surely only further elate the French masses in their ecstatic high? Time it would tell, would say otherwise...
Foreign Minister, Count Dillon, whose attentions had been overwhelmingly preoccupied by the continental tumult of the preceding twelve months, now turned his full energies towards the Constitutional Convention and the satisfaction of these pledges. The convention itself had been promised seemingly an age ago during the March on the Elysée, however the stresses of war had ensured its delay time and time again. By the war's conclusion, many could thus easily be forgiven for forgetting the New Directory’s overtly temporary nature - its apparent longevity and success enshrining it as an institution in the eyes of the French public - provisional or not. Dillon however rightly recognised that governance by as few as six men was not sustainable long term. Wartime had become peacetime, and a more definitive constitutional settlement would be required - if at least still focused around the towering figure of Boulanger.
However, this colossal figure appeared perplexingly diminished the moment Dillon’s work of “Révision” began. Academics have made much of Boulanger’s caution during the convention, though to this day have yet to come to a definitive consensus on why. Throughout the months of January and February 1890, the New Directory attempted no daring programs, nor acted against the status quo in any significant manner - instead focusing exclusively on its triumph and the supposed glories it had brought to France. For a victorious and purportedly reformist post-war government, this remains a puzzle to many, and as such historians today have produced countless suggestions for such tentative reclusion. Some reason that Boulanger was perhaps already aware of the problems that would result from the convention, and thus his inactivity in this period was an attempt to detach himself from its decisions. Others claim it is instead more indicative of his natural aversion to sweeping changes to the status quo - arguing that in the cases of the initial coup and the subsequent war, Boulanger was more swept up in the tide of his supporters than leading from the front. More simply however, it might have just been a reflection of the Marshal’s lack of expertise on political matters, beyond those of platoons and platitudes.
Either way his inactivity (aside from military pontifications) came at great dissatisfaction to many of his most fervent supporters. The Possibilist Socialists and Blanquists on the left of the Boulangisme, viewed the status quo with increasing suspicion - instead agitating for an immediate post-war upheaval of society in Jacobin fashion. Alternatively conservatives sat uneasy that Boulanger had outsourced the convention to others such as Dillon, and was not ‘owning’ the momentous decisions himself. After all French elites had entrusted the nation to the exultant Marshal - the man who had seen off the Germans, stood up to the corruption and ineffectiveness of the last regime - not some inconsequential nobleman of foreign descent [2]. Whilst aside from such vocal concerns, the public majority would nonetheless remain more than content with the new regime - such slow fracturing on the peripheries of Boulanger’s coalition can in hindsight be seen as a dark omen of the increasingly fragile and tentative balancing act he would struggle to maintain in later years.
The process of the convention itself was undoubtedly exhaustive, much to the surprise of the Marshals harshest detractors, who presumed it to be a dictatorial sham [3]. Dillon’s deliberations involved an enormous host of deputies [4], amenable local politicians, aristocrats, bankers and press barons [5] - anyone who might have a consequential stake in the new framework. For almost all waking hours, Dillon was either conducting meetings, or drafting line after line of elaborate constitutional prose into the long night. It was often joked by French political commentators of the time that Dillon was forced to work some 28 hours a day during the convention in February, up from his normal ‘restive’ pace of 20. Though exaggeration of this kind does not necessarily resolve the true validity of these deliberations, it does at least stand testament to the fastidious efforts of Count Dillon. Even today few contemporary critics of Boulanger’s regime, will not give credit to Dillon for his at least commendable efforts to draw some level of consensus amongst Frenchmen - even if still confined to the objective of designing an inherently autocratic system of governance.
Come the end of February, Dillon and the convention committee at last emerged to present their conclusions. The Convention had overseen the wholesale replacement of France’s electoral apparatus, and the total dismemberment of the Third Republic. The new constitution outlined an almost presidential model of government and, much as Americans had once built their constitution around the figure of Washington, so too the French model was built around Boulanger. The Maréchal d'État was to be the new popularly elected head of government, affirmed by referenda to a ten year term [6]. The Marshal would have control over the armed forces, government ministries, ministers, and civil servants, alongside a host of extrajudicial and emergency powers. He was in effect to be the ‘sun’ of government, around which all else revolves.
Legislative power was to remain with the now unicameral Assemblée Législative, however an arcane set of rules, disqualifications and electoral pacts had been devised to ensure Boulangist candidates overwhelmingly dominated. In retrospect, it was in this specific avenue where Dillon likely expended the greatest deliberations - carefully balancing conflicting interests and deputies off one another to guarantee supremacy in spite of preserving democratic pretences. Alongside these new myriad of rules, the assembly was further to be reduced to 300 deputies [7], its members elected to terms of 6 years, and most critically was to have its new Président, Paul Déroulède (the former Minister of the Interior in the Directory and leader of the nationalist Ligue des Patriotes) chosen unilaterally by the Marshal, rather than elected by acclamation of the house. Whilst Déroulède was regardless a popular figure amongst the extant deputies, this decision ensured that the Marshal and his cabinet could directly control not only the broad composition of the assembly’s members but also its whole legislative agenda. In its final form the new parliament was thus not dissimilar to that of its elder predecessor, the Corps Législatif under Emperor Napoléon III. To surmise, a congress with enough powers to maintain the allure of independence, but without the functional capacity to oppose government agenda on any truly important motions.
Continuing his reforms at a higher echelon above the legislature, the New Directory - the impromptu provisional committee of government - was to be formalised and reconstituted as a traditional cabinet. The Conseil d'Etat [8], officially convened to conduct the business of government and assist the Marshal in his functions, was to be composed of 10 members in charge of the respective Ministries of Foreign Affairs, Interior, War, Marine and the Colonies, Finance, Justice and Worship, Education, Agriculture, Public Works, and Commerce and Industry. In contrast to the Third Republic, its members were not required to be members of the assembly, though would still be obliged to “regularly” [9] defend their programs before it. Such a choice similarly sought to detach the executive and set it above the legislature, ensuring the government would always have the final say.
Aside from the executive and the legislature, the last stem of government, the courts, were similarly not free from reform. Under Dillon’s proposed new framework, members of the judiciary were to be constitutionally bound for review and reselection every 10 years. Such reform was ostensibly justified as rectifying the increasing politicisation and corruption of judges in the past, however in reality sought only to ensure Boulanger could stack the courts in his favour. The new positions of Président of the Cour de Cassation (the civil and criminal supreme court) and Président of the newly-renamed Cour des Prérogatives (the administrative supreme court), both selected by the Marshal, similarly ensured Boulanger’s abilities to ‘supervise’ court proceedings. With this, the new regime and its lieutenants could now wholly subvert not just the judiciary, but also the legislature, the press and the civil service - and therein nearly all aspects of government.
Alas above all this, only one position theoretically loomed higher than that of the Marshal - the Sovereign. For Dillon, in line with the promise of “Restauration”, had concluded that France was to become a Kingdom once more. The new Sovereign, was to be the official head of state, the protector of France’s traditions and catholic faith, and the theoretical ‘guardian’ of the new constitution. Though in practice of course, Boulanger held overwhelming precedence, the superficial approval by the Sovereign of appointees to the Conseil d'Etat, the courts, the speaker of the house, and even of Boulanger in his role of Marshal himself - retained a veneer of liberal constitutional democracy - albeit if nonetheless entirely erroneous.
To emphasise quite how erroneous this truly was, one must only look at the established norms set out in the new constitution. For example, the armed forces were to swear allegiance to not just the King, but also Boulanger - so too all deputies in the assembly. Public prosecutions were to be undertaken in the name of the Sovereign and the Marshal’s government. Even schools were given instruction to refer to Boulanger as the leader, in precedence above the King. From the outset it was thus clear on whose head the crown truly sat.
Few monarchs would accept such indignation, however the long repressed French aristocracy were willing to forgo it. First thrown out of their palaces and chateaus in the Summer of 1789, then dragged to the bloody guillotines of the Terror, and maligned to insignificance ever since, it is little surprise they so eagerly engaged with Boulanger’s scraps. Ultimately Dillon’s convention would choose to nominate Prince Philippe, Comte de Paris for the throne - the head of the Orléanist line of claimants, and persistent friendly acquaintance of Boulanger [10]. Philippe had long been the front runner of potential claimants, and was thus eager to seize his birthright - even if he had more reservations about its implications than most. For example in his private diaries, Philippe would soon write that most European monarchs had little power, whereas he had none - Boulanger was the true King. However, whilst these doubts would later manifest themselves far more publicly than a private diary, regardless in the early years of his reign, his new status and royal allowance proved more than enough to placate any immediate grievances. Soon to be crowned in the coming months as King Philip VII, King of the French, the Count of Paris remained content for now.
Grievances of Philippe himself would prove merely the tip of the iceberg however. Before even his coronation could take place, at the moment of his nomination even, a great deal of public dismay exploded into the field of political debate. Whilst the new constitution was of course not without its critics, it does seem today rather farcical that the position of least practical power emerged as the most controversial of its decisions. The choice of the new monarch was an obvious minefield for Boulanger, even before the convention, as it had been for the French people ever since the Storming of the Bastille. In spite of this however, it does seem to have been almost entirely underestimated as a source of division for the new regime - whether by fault of Dillon, or rather the Marshal himself.
Boulangisme had always been a bizarre coalition of disparate entities, who shared little else than a hatred of the Third Republic and the German Reich. Revanchism was therefore his most popular policy, shortly followed by the promise of constitutional revision. Restoration however, always felt a subsidiary, little considered or reflected upon. It is thus no surprise that historians regard choosing to enact it as a key early mistake of the Marshal’s government. His disparate coalition contained elements each with entirely conflicting opinions of monarchy and passionate beliefs as to who should reign or not. To even touch the issue, and one of so little real effect to the new constitution, seems the paramount of folly in retrospect.
For example, the most hardline of Boulangists wished for the Marshal himself to be proclaimed Emperor, much as Napoleon had done before him. France after all had defeated its greatest enemy in open combat - surely it was worthy of empire once more, and Boulanger nothing less than Bonapartes heir? Alternatively actual Bonapartistes favoured Napoléon V for the new triumphant militarist France, since he was of course by birthright the true heir of the First Empire, and the new France its continuation. Legitimists argued their preference for the direct heir to the Ancien Régime, Juan, Count of Montizón - undeterred by his Spanish nationality. If the revolution of 1789 had brought about the century of chaos since, surely Boulanger was supposed to be the conservative man of action to restore France to its natural state? Republicans contrastingly sat appalled at even the slight notion of monarchy at all, after all the revolution and the tumult ever since had fought for few goals other than the abolition of class and nobility in France. Boulanger was supposed to be the man to bring about the fair deal for the workers, to finally establish a classless, egalitarian and patriotic France - was this a betrayal of those promises?
Each group, aside from the conservative Orléanists, emerged outraged at the choice. To have even tried to set up Philippe as a consensus candidate, appears today as the height of naivety. Though of course Boulangisme was bound to split one way or another at some point, to have outraged so many sizable groups of its coalition and so early on, can similarly be regarded as little else than a terrible mistake.
The Boulangisme, a movement built at the institutional level on ambiguity and vague platitudes, had at last begun to choose its sides. Like all revolutions before it, France had once again emerged with an inherently autocratic system of government - however this time attempting to blend the disparate strands of conservative monarchism and republican presidentialism. Though the chorus of dismay at the convention continued to grow, France still looked hesitantly forward to a plebiscite that would almost undoubtedly confirm the new constitution. For now at least, the majority still remained on the Marshal’s side...
[1] Answer, they wouldn’t…at such heights, the only way is down…
[2] Dillon was from a line of Irish-Catholic Jacobite exiles. Though the family was bestowed titles and played a notable role in the Ancien Régime, their opposition to the French Revolution and the fact they were foreigners, meant they were forever treated as outsiders.
[3] Obviously the new constitution firmly cemented Boulanger’s somewhat dictatorial position, however the negotiations between the countless nominally pro-Boulangist groups in the assembly at least imply some form of consensus making.
[4] The Assembly still existed during the time of the New Directory, however after the purge during the March on the Elysée, it composed only broadly loyal or amenable Boulangist deputies. During the war it was little more than a talking shop, as the military under Directory control increasingly assumed emergency war powers.
[5] Since the March on the Elysée the press had been under the ‘supervision‘ of the Committee of National Protest led by Arthur Meyer. However individual newspapers still existed and were permitted somewhat free thought.
[6] The length of ten years to a term was justified as a means of avoiding the chaos of the previous Third Republic, and the constant changing of governments. In reality it was to ensure Boulanger could rule unopposed and without the inconvenience of regular elections.
[7] Down from 578 seats beforehand, although some 200 of these had been vacant since opposition politicians had been arrested, fled or exiled during the 1889 coup.
[8] The OTL supreme court dealing with public law known as the Conseil d'Etat, was renamed as the Cour des Prérogatives as a result of the convention.
[9] A bit of a cheat in which it was not specified how often or when they would be required to do this. Though in practice Ministers often did appear before the assembly, generally it would only be to announce government programs and make a general case for them, rather than being subjected to proper interrogation by deputies.
[10] In reality basically all the French claimants to the throne had made themselves acquaintances of Boulanger OTL, since he was the best chance they had for restoring the monarchy. Of course they all fell out again once Boulanger decided on Philippe and the Orléanists.