The Estates of The Realm

In what I have written concerning the Constitution of Bulgaria I have endeavored to explain the theory of government under which the affairs of the State are administered. But in all countries, and especially in all countries whose institutions are of novel and, to a certain extent, of exotic origin, there is always a marked difference between theory and practice. It would be a mistake to assume that, because Bulgaria possesses Parliamentary institutions, she is governed absolutely and entirely after the fashion of a genuine constitutional State.

It would be an equal mistake to conclude that, because her administration is not always conducted in strict compliance with constitutional principles, the country is therefore under autocratic rule. If I were compelled to define the government of the Peasant Kingdom, I should say the State was administered on democratic principles, tempered by autocratic practice. Let me try and show what is meant by this seeming paradox.

There are, to use our English political phraseology, three Estates in Bulgaria: the Crown, the Ministers, and the Sobranje. The Prince possesses larger powers than those exercised by ordinary constitutional sovereigns. In practice, as well as in theory, he appoints the Ministry and commands the army, while his personal favour or disfavour exercises an influence in politics which the mere will of the sovereign cannot exercise in countries where Parliamentary government is fully established and recognized.

His power, however, of interference in political affairs is limited by certain very important restrictions. He can appoint and dismiss Ministers, but he cannot maintain permanently in power any Ministry which is out of harmony with national sentiment as represented by the Sobranje. Nor, even if he had the full support of his Ministers, could he carry out any policy which was distinctly and directly in opposition to the will of the country.

Whatever may be the defects, either of the Sobranje or of the army, both these bodies are essentially national institutions, composed of exactly the same elements as the mass of a singularly homogeneous population. Under existing conditions, it is almost impossible to conceive of any administrative measure proving grossly distasteful to the country without being equally distasteful to the Sobranje and to the army. It follows that, however wide the powers of the Prince may be, these powers cannot be exercised in direct opposition to national sentiments.

Prince Ferdinand is the only possible sovereign of Bulgaria

It is only justice to the dead Prince to say that, after his abdication, he acted towards his successor with the most absolute loyalty. But so long as he lived there always existed the nucleus of an Alexander party, even amongst the staunchest advocates of Bulgarian independence. As things are now, Prince Ferdinand is the only possible sovereign of Bulgaria, and the maintenance of the reigning dynasty has, therefore, become identified with the cause of Bulgarian independence.

There is, in as far as one can foresee, little probability of any revolutionary movement in Bulgaria which might endanger or retard the progress of national development. Any agitation for dynastic changes must come from without, not from within ; must be of foreign origin, not of home production. The people and the Prince have got, in short, to understand each other, and this understanding has only confirmed the previous conviction that the fortunes of the dynasty and of Bulgarian independence are indissolubly connected, so far, at any rate, as the present generation are concerned.

Nothing can be more courteous or pleasant than the Prince’s manner when he wishes to make himself agreeable. Owing to the prolonged illness of the Princess, I was not able to see him during the earlier part of my sojourn at Sofia. But, on the various occasions when I saw him later, I had the advantage of learning his views concerning Bulgarian matters, about which he expressed himself with great frankness and with great acuteness.

Many things that his Highness said to me were clearly not intended to be repeated, but the general purport of his conversation may fairly be recorded. He took, or professed to take, great interest in the impression which had been left upon me by my sojourn in Bulgaria; and almost exhausted my limited powers of suitable reply by his repeated expressions of regret that, owing to the Princess’s illness, he had not been able to receive me earlier or see me oftener. In the uniform in which he invariably makes his appearances in public he does not look to the best advantage. But, in ordinary day dress, he is a tall, well-built, handsome man of thirty, with a very pleasant smile, a heavy moustache, a pronounced Roman nose, and singularly bright, piercing eyes.

Personal individuality

Though there is not a trace of grey yet in his coal-black hair, he might well be taken for some years older than his real age, and he has the look of a man who has already had more than his fair share of trouble and anxiety. He, obviously, takes his kingship very seriously, and has decided views of his own as to the external and internal policy of his country. Indeed, my own doubt would rather be whether his personal individuality was not too marked for the passive part which his position almost imposes upon him.

Of course, I cannot say how far his remarks to me were entirely of his own making, but certainly they were the remarks of a man who had studied the subject of Bulgaria thoughtfully and had arrived at certain definite conclusions. He spoke highly of the self-control, energy, and sobriety of the Bulgarians as a race, of their extraordinary aptitude in acquiring knowledge and in assimilating the ideas as well as the language of foreign nations, an aptitude which in no wise interfered with their intense sentiment of nationality.

Extraordinary freedom

He professed to have been greatly impressed by the facility with which his Ministers—men peasant-bom and self-educated—picked up the knowledge of public affairs and the manners of society. The Bulgarian intellect was, to his thinking, a sort of virgin soil in which ideas took root rapidly, and, when they had taken root, were retained with all the tenacity of a vigorous and uncultured memory. As to his own position, both abroad and at home, he spoke with extraordinary freedom. He did not conceal the mortification he had experienced at his treatment by the leading foreign Powers, but added that towards Russia he never had and never would express himself otherwise than with respect and gratitude.

He could never forget, or wish to forget, that it was to Russia his adopted country owed her liberation; that it was Russia who had created the army which secured her independence; Russia whose uniform he wore, and was proud to wear. Nothing, he was convinced, could have been more loyal or more disinterested than the policy of the late Czar towards Bulgaria. It was since Alexander the Second’s death that this policy had unfortunately been changed.