What 1860s Prussia Can Teach Us About Constitutional Crises

In the first few months of his second term, President Donald Trump has raised concerns among commentators and academics that the U.S. could face a constitutional crisis.

Trump has issued numerous executive orders of questionable legality and given unprecedented power to Elon Musk and his army of young coders to cancel federal contracts, stop authorized government payments, and close federal agencies. Trump argues that he is using the authority granted him by Article II of the Constitution. He and his supporters claim that the President has ultimate authority over all decisions that concern the executive branch and the federal workforce, including the power to hire and fire at will, to refuse to spend funds authorized by Congress, to rearrange spending priorities, and even to close down agencies that he and Musk deem ineffective.

These claims are hotly contested, and those affected by Trump’s actions have filed a series of lawsuits, which argue that the president has far exceeded his constitutional powers.

Congress, for example, holds the power of the purse. But what does that mean if the President can supersede Congress’ control of the budget? Or what happens if the President chooses to ignore the legal and constitutional constraints on his power? Some legal analysts suggest that the Constitution itself is unclear on the precise contours of the relationship between executive and legislative authority.

The history of a similar showdown in Prussia in the 1860s can teach us how difficult it is to resolve such issues when faced with a lack of constitutional clarity—and suggests that under these circumstances, the executive branch may hold the upper hand.

Revolutions rocked Europe in 1848. In Prussia, the uprisings prompted the adoption of a constitution—though it fell far short of the democratic changes many sought. Nonetheless, it granted the Diet (Prussia’s legislative body) primacy in budgetary matters. The King, however, retained exclusive control over the country’s military.

Read More: What the Founding Fathers Said About Kings

In 1860, Kaiser Wilhelm I and the lower house of the Diet found themselves embroiled in a conflict over military reforms. Both wanted to adopt changes, but they had very different ideas about the scope and implementation.

Wilhelm wanted military reforms that would strengthen his country’s traditional army, and reinforce its conservative, royalist spirit. He thought these changes would protect against potential domestic disturbances, which had been a constant challenge for monarchs throughout Europe since 1848. Wilhelm also hoped these reforms would prepare the Prussians to face potential military conflicts, most notably with Denmark and Austria. In contrast, the Lower House of the Diet favored army reforms that would bolster the nation’s militia, or Landwehr, which it envisioned as the “people’s army” and an expression of Prussia’s national spirit.

When the two sides were unable to resolve the issue during budget negotiations, the Diet approved provisional stopgap funds for the military. The King responded by brushing aside the legislature, and moving ahead with his desired reforms. The Diet objected, but its members didn’t have an easy way to stop him.

The legislative elections of 1861 strengthened the hand of the Lower House, as voters returned a Diet that heavily favored the liberal position on military reforms. The new Lower House requested that Wilhelm submit a detailed budget for 1862 to thwart any budget modifications by the king and his cabinet; Wilhelm refused to do so and instead called for new elections. 

But the King misjudged the electorate. For a second time, his side lost badly; liberals now held 80% of the seats in the Lower House. The King’s ministers suggested that he compromise, since to do otherwise would undermine the constitutional legitimacy of his rule. However, Wilhelm refused, saying that he would rather resign than concede his authority.

Prussia now confronted a constitutional crisis. The fight over military reform masked a larger debate: Who should exercise ultimate power in the Prussian state, the King or the elected Lower House of the Diet?

The liberals in the Lower House hoped to make use of their control over the budget to move towards the more thorough-going parliamentary democracy that had been denied to them in 1848. The King, by contrast, was unwilling to allow his government to become “slaves of parliament.” In his view, royal prerogative was the basis of Prussian constitutional rule, and he was determined to defend it.

Prussia lacked a mechanism to resolve what conservative statesman Otto von Bismarck called the “constitutional gap.” One side or the other would ultimately have to concede—or override the other. 

The King, with executive power and control of the army, seemingly held the strongest hand. Yet, Wilhelm was reluctant to enforce his decision at the point of a gun. Instead, he summoned Bismarck to serve as his chancellor (or minister-president). Bismarck had a reputation as a wily man who could potentially bring the recalcitrant Lower House to heel. He impressed the King with his fearlessness and willingness to defend Wilhelm’s interests.

In September 1862, Bismarck made clear that if the Lower House refused to approve funds for the military, the King and his cabinet would simply rule without a budget. He appealed to legislators’ nationalism, arguing that military reforms were necessary to secure Prussia’s status as a great power. “Not through speeches and majority decisions will the great questions of the period be decided—those were the mistakes of 1848 and 1849—but through iron and blood,” he famously declared in 1862.

When the Diet refused to capitulate, Bismarck did exactly what he had promised and simply ruled without parliamentary authorization—aided by efficient bureaucratic processes, which continued to collect the tax money that the government then spent.

The liberals in the Diet railed about Bismarck’s flagrant flouting of the constitution, but they had no mechanism to prevent him from carrying out the King’s policies. And while the liberals maintained and increased their strong majority in the Lower House in the years that followed, it may have distorted how much support they had in their battle with the King. The restrictive Prussian voting system diluted the impact of rural peasants, who were often more conservative than the liberal elite voted into the legislature.

Prussians’ true sentiments might’ve been more clearly displayed by the lack of a popular groundswell of opposition to Bismarck and the king’s extralegal actions; the people remained quiescent and continued to pay their taxes without complaint.

Read More: The Steep Price of Trump’s Executive Orders

The crisis effectively ended in the mid-1860s when Prussia had the chance to demonstrate the prowess of its newly reformed military. In the wake of sweeping victories against the Danes in Schleswig-Holstein in 1864, and especially against the Austrians in 1866, Bismarck submitted a bill of indemnity to the Lower House that allowed its members to retroactively approve the government’s unauthorized expenditures of the previous years. Chastened by the nationalistic fervor that accompanied the victory over Austria, the Diet capitulated.

Prussia’s power on the world stage—which culminated in their stunning victory in the Franco-Prussian War from 1870 to 1871 and the unification of Germany under Prussian influence—would lead to Bismarck’s victories over liberals at the ballot box as well.

To be sure, the U.S. President is not a king, and our Constitution is clear in ways that the Prussian constitution was not. Like the Lower House of the Prussian Diet, Congress controls the purse, and the President cannot spend money Congress hasn’t appropriated, nor refuse to spend money that Congress has appropriated. Theoretically, the Founders envisioned Congress using the threat of impeachment and removal to safeguard its prerogatives. But there is no chance that a GOP majority will move against Trump. Speaker of the House Mike Johnson (R-La.) has instead defended the President’s actions.

Plus, the U.S. has something that Prussia lacked: federal courts. Several judges have paused actions taken by the Trump administration. Officials, in turn, have at least ostensibly acquiesced while appealing decisions the administration opposes.

However, some of Trump’s allies—including Vice President JD Vance—have suggested that they should not be bound by court decisions they disagree with. If they convince the President to ignore a negative court ruling, it will create a genuine constitution crisis.

As in the example of 1860’s Prussia, the President’s power over the enforcement arm of the federal government would give Trump a major advantage in such a scenario. In Prussia, there was little organized resistance among the general population against attacks on their constitutional institutions. And as it pertains to the U.S. today, perhaps the most important question to consider is if the American people will speak up in the face of a potential constitutional crisis.

That is the true lesson of this era of Prussian history: A leader’s ability to stretch their authority sometimes depends on the popularity of what they are doing more so than the legality of it.

Christine Adams, a former American Council for Learned Societies and Andrew W. Mellon Foundation fellow at the Newberry Library, is professor of history at St. Mary’s College of Maryland and author of The Creation of the French Royal Mistress with Tracy Adams.

Made by History takes readers beyond the headlines with articles written and edited by professional historians. Learn more about Made by History at TIME here. Opinions expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of TIME editors.