Yet still we were buried in a confusing tangle of conflicting forces, one whose resolution could be conceived by countless shades of partisanship on the basis of subjective tendency, local interests, and an incalculable variety of sympathies and antipathies. For our bad political habits, this was the most dangerous situation of all. To be sure, we had merged into several large groups. These party formations, however, were based on highly questionable deceptions. The National Association [Nationalverein], supposedly so well-disciplined, incorporated opposing factions that might well subordinate themselves to the empty phrases of resolutions unanimously passed; but had these factions ever been in a position to operate in the context of political reality, rather than just on paper, they would have dispersed their fellow association members in all directions. The "lesser German" [kleindeutsch] patriot cherished a different heartfelt opinion in Hanover than in Brunswick, a different one in Hamburg than in Bremen, a different one in the Electorate of Hesse than in Hesse-Darmstadt; and the best “greater Germans” [Grossdeutschen], as dear as they held the “whole of Germany” to their bosom, imagined the practical solution of their fine program in rather different terms, depending on whether they lived in the west or the east of the Black Forest, west or east of the Lech River.
The core of our German fantasies was particularism: it was bred in the bone and lived still. We hoped to become Germans one day, but we were really Hanoverians, Badenese, and Bavarians. The overwhelming mass of the population thought as narrowly as that. And even those who were sincerely aware of their Germanness, who deemed it a serious matter of the heart to oppose the indignity of the present with their utmost strength, were nevertheless bound through the force of real circumstances to the small special body politic to which each belonged. They paid taxes to it; they obeyed and served it. Where was the great whole for which they reached out longingly? Up in the skies! It was alive in their fantasy, in their dreams. They could sing its praises, give it thundering applause, and be enthusiastic about it; but they could do little or nothing for it. If an apolitical past pervaded by religious, literary, and private interests had accustomed us to confusing the simplest political questions with our theories and doctrines, then it was inevitable that the most complicated question of all – the German one – would cause a truly Babylonian confusion of tongues among us.
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