by Peter C. Earle
Can a community without a central government avoid
descending into chaos and rampant criminality? Can its economy grow and thrive
without the intervening regulatory hand of the state? Can its disputes be
settled without a monopoly on legal judgments? If the strange and little-known
case of the condominum of Moresnet — a
wedge of disputed territory in northwestern Europe, and arguably Europe's counterpart
to America's so-called Wild West — acts as our guide, we must conclude that
statelessness is not only possible but beneficial to progress, carrying
profound advantages over coercive bureaucracies.
The remarkable experiment that was Moresenet was an
indirect consequence of the Napoleonic Wars (1803–1815), which, like all wars,
empowered the governments of participating states at the expense of their
populations: nationalism grew more fervent; many nations suspended specie
payments indefinitely; and a new crop of destitute amputees appeared in streets
all across Europe.
In the Congress of Vienna, which concluded the war,
borders were redrawn according to the "balance-of-power" theory: no
state should be in a position to dominate others militarily. There were some
disagreements, one in particular between Prussia and the Netherlands regarding
the miniscule, mineral-rich map spot known as the "old mountain" —
Altenberg in German, Vieille Montagne in French — which held a large zinc mine
that profitably extricated tons of ore from the ground. With a major war
recently concluded, and the next nearest zinc source of any significance in
England, it behooved the two powers to jointly control the operation.
They settled on an accommodation; the mountain mine would
be a region of shared sovereignty. So from its inception in 1816, the zone
would fall under the aegis of several states: Prussia and the Netherlands
initially, and Belgium taking the place of the Netherlands after gaining its
independence in 1830. Designated "Neutral Moresnet," the small land
occupied a triangular spot between these three states, its area largely covered
by the quarry, some company buildings, a bank, schools, several stores, a
hospital, and the roughly 50 cottages housing 256 miners and support personnel.[1]
The first factor is that, although nominally monitored
by several nations, by virtue of its small size, Moresnet was loosely
supervised at best. Not only was it so small that a crumb would blot out its
existence on most maps; neither was there much reason for its overseers to
direct attention to it: it sat quietly, reliably excavating 8,500 tons of zinc
each year. Occasionally a patrolling Prussian, Dutch, or Belgian soldier would
wander close to the border — as a demilitarized zone, Moresnet territory was
explicitly off limits for military forces — but for the most part the mining
community was left alone.
And it wasn't just administrators who lost track of
the of the anomalous territory; it was secluded enough that one traveler
recalled inquiring at [a nearby] hotel, at some neighboring shops, and at both
of the railway stations … [but still couldn't be told] how to reach Neutral
Moresnet; they had no idea at all, or guessed at random at various impossible
stations.[3]
Within the triangle, there was a minimal government in
the form of a burgomaster, assisted by a "Committee of Ten." Despite
its somewhat ominous name, the committee "wield[ed] no real power"
and the burgomaster was "far from being a … despot."[4]
Moresnet also employed a police force of one, referred
to with local good humor — and perhaps mocking nearby Prussia with its General
Staff and large social class of military officers — as Moresnet's
"Secretary of War."[5] The lone police officer was usually "to be
seen in full uniform enjoying a game of chess or billiards with the burgomaster
at the beer garden on the shores of the lake."[6]
Through the rest of the 19th century, Moresnet's course
ran distinct from that of surrounding European states. In 1848, for example,
violent revolutions broke out in Italy, France, Germany, Denmark, Hungary,
Switzerland, Poland, Ireland, Wallachia, the Ukraine, and throughout the
Habsburg Empire. For Moresnettians, life in 1848 proceeded unperturbed, and the
year was noteworthy only for the first minting of sovereign coins, which local
merchants accepted for use alongside other currencies.[7]
Despite its isolation, word slowly spread that within
Moresnet — if one could find it — "imports from surrounding countries were
toll free, the taxes were very low, prices were lower and wages higher than in
[other European] countries."[8]
Over the following decades the population of the tiny
region grew correspondingly: by 1850, the population had doubled, and in
addition to the zinc mine, new businesses and even some small farms began to
spring up.
Alongside the negligible tax burden, a unique legal
climate favored the expansion of economic activity within the tiny district. On
inception, the Congress of Vienna, which created Neutral Moresnet, held that
its laws would be construed in accordance with the Code Napoleon, known for its stress on clearly
written and accessible law, [which] was a major step in replacing the previous
patchwork of feudal laws.… Laws could be applied only if they had been duly
promulgated, and only if they had been published officially (including
provisions for publishing delays, given the means of communication available at
the time); thus no secret laws were authorized. It [also] prohibited ex post
factor laws.[9]
And most importantly of all, the code placed a primary
importance on "property rights … [which] were made absolute,"
naturally generating a favorable climate for commercial enterprise.[10] One periodical noted that a "thief tried …
[nearby] gets … a few months, while the Code Napoleon specifies
five years."[11]
This contrasted sharply with the Allgemeines Landrecht legal system of
neighboring Prussia, which "used an incredibly casuistic and imprecise
language, making it hard to properly understand and use in practice," but
which for some legal purposes may have held advantages over the Code Napoleon. [12]Alternately,
disputes could be directed to the burgomaster's "petty tribunal" for
quick decisions on smaller issues and disputes.[13] His head-quarters were … "under his
hat." He went about town and held court wherever he happened to be when
his service as justice was required, which, happily, was not often. When
complaint was made to him, he would listen patiently and attentively … [then]
whistle some favorite air, and thus take time to resolve the matter in his
mind.… His judgments were always intelligible and fair, insomuch that they were
never excepted to or appealed from during all his term of thirty-five years.[14]
Moresnet inhabitants, therefore, had access to several
different systems for resolution of disputes — a rudimentary market for justice
— and were therefore empowered to take their issues to the venue they felt
afforded the best chances of satisfactory resolution.
Further, residents of Neutral Moresnet were not
required to fulfill the compulsory military requirements of their nations of
origin.[15] This no doubt motivated many of the new
arrivals, in particular those from Prussia, which fought half a dozen wars
during the 19th century.[16]
The population of the hamlet quadrupled between 1850
and 1860, topping 2,000 residents. One newcomer was particularly significant.
Dr. Wilhelm Molly arrived in 1863 to become the general practitioner of the
mining company, and soon won celebrity by thwarting a local cholera epidemic in
Moresnet. Like many physicians of his era, Dr. Molly had numerous interests,
some of which would play a role in Moresnet's development over the next
half-century.[17]
From the beginning of the designation of Neutral
Moresnet, it was known that the Vieille Montagne zinc mine could not, and would
not, produce indefinitely. In 1885, the zinc mine finally wound down and ceased
operation, but this wasn't especially worrisome economically: numerous
businesses were now flourishing, including "60–70 bars and cafes [along]
the main street," a number of breweries, small farms, and at least one
dairy operation.[18] Taxes hadn't changed since the designation of
the neutral zone in 1816, and visitors noted that Moresnet was "without
the beggars who are [a] sadly familiar sight" across the rest of Europe.[19]
To Dr. Molly, the closing of the zinc mine hardly
presented reason for the culmination of Neutral Moresnet as a community, much
less its end. On the contrary, he became the foremost advocate of pursuing a
path of complete independence and severing the few ties that Moresnet had with
Prussia and Belgium. Within a year after the zinc mine closed down, he
spearheaded the founding of a local, private postal service — but it was
quickly shut down by Prussian and Belgian authorities.
Undeterred, he explored numerous other initiatives. In
1903, a group of entrepreneurs proposed developing a casino there to rival
those in Monte Carlo, offering to build electric trolleys to nearby towns and
"share the profit with every citizen."[20] In fact, a small casino opened briefly, but like
the postal service was short-lived; on hearing of it, the king of Belgium
threatened Moresnet's always-tenuous independence.
But Belgium proved the least of Moresnet's worries. In
1900 the Prussian state — now itself consolidated into the greater German
Empire — began to undertake "aggressive" tactics towards pressuring
the residents of the zone to consent to absorption.[21] None too subtle and true to its martial
heritage, Prussian efforts included "outright sabotage," such as
cutting off Moresnet's electricity and telephone connections at times.[22] When citizens attempted to run new electrical
and telephone lines, Prussia attempted to thwart them, as well as
"prevent[ing] the appointment of new … officials" known to support
Moresnettian independence.[23]
But "these people, small though their territory,
w[ould] not be cabined, cribbed, confined."[24] In fact, despite being harassed by a state
thousands of times larger and armed to the teeth, by 1907 the population of the
hamlet had increased to almost 3,800, only 460 of whom were descendents of the
original Moresnettians.[25] The rest came from varied and far-flung
locations: not only Germans, Belgians and Dutch, but also former residents of
Italy, Switzerland, and Russia — and eventually two Americans and even one
Chinese resident. A large cathedral had come to occupy the center of the
community, which had expanded to over 800 homes.[26] Even though Belgian Aix-la-Chapelle was nearby
and offered a more cosmopolitan experience, in general, the Moresnettians chose
"not [to] leave the Triangle, but variedly find the spice of life within
its slender borders."[27]
Dr. Molly — now living in the "thoroughly
autonomous" Neutral Moresnet for half a century — began to view the
independence and prosperity of Moresnet as a place compatible with the Weltanschauung of another of his intellectual
pursuits: the universal language and culture of Esperanto.[28] While a detailed discussion of Esperanto is
beyond the scope of this writing, the synthetic language was founded in 1887 by
L.L. Zamenhof to eliminate the "hate and prejudice" that he theorized
arose between ethnic groups owing to language differences and often leading to
war; and it should come as little surprise that Esperanto's founder
additionally expressed his profound [conviction] that every nationalism offers
humanity only the greatest unhappiness.… It is true that the nationalism of
oppressed peoples — as a natural self-defensive reaction — is much more
excusable than the nationalism of peoples who oppress; but, if the nationalism
of the strong is ignoble, the nationalism of the weak is imprudent; both give
birth to and support each other.[29]
Embracing this thinly veiled antistate philosophy and
having corresponded for years with prominent Esperantists around the world, in
1906, Dr. Molly met with several colleagues to discuss designating Neutral
Moresnet as a self-determining global haven for Esperantists; a territory that
would "embrace aims and ideals affecting the brotherhood of man …
civilized life … emancipating ourselves from all that is absurd and unworthy in
convention, all that the ignorant centuries have imposed upon us."[30]Core to that initiative, he proposed that the name of
the enclave be changed to Amikejo — Esperanto for "place of
friendship" — not only espousing their explicitly peaceful nature, but
undoubtedly a propagandist thumb in the eye of ever-marauding Prussia.[31]
Two years later, in 1908, a large celebration was held
commemorating the launch of the renamed Amikejo, complete with festivities and
the airing of a new national anthem. [32] Unsurprisingly,
the occasion went unnoted (and Amikejo unrecognized) by nearby states, although
numerous newspapers reported the event.
By 1914, Amikejo's population topped 4,600 people,
peacefully cohabitating in an economically prosperous political limbo
characterized by an "absence of definite rule."[33] Signs and notifications were printed in German,
French, and Esperanto, and residents had developed one of the "queerest
and most unintelligible dialects in the world."[34] Indeed, an American — an American of the turn of
the century, no less — described the establishment as having "a sort
of al fresco freedom of life, an untrammelledness
which comes naturally from long-continued absence of centralized
restraint."[35]
Indeed; for a century, residents and settlers in the
diminutive wedge of land had found governments — internally and foreign —
superfluous to and iniquitous toward the attainment of individual liberty. In one
sense the Moresnet/Amikejo experiment might be viewed as Europe's analog to
the American West, covering a
greater length of time but on a much smaller scale. Summarizing, one reporter
described it as one of the smallest and strangest territories in the world … an
encircling ridge of high mountains veritably buries it from neighboring
civilization and culture and leaves it in a little world of its own.… [And] for
nearly a century, the inhabitants have never experienced the feeling of being
under the rule of an emperor, king or president. They are independent, governed
by no one, at liberty to do as they please.[36]
Despite a vibrant, small-scale economy, the existence
of the district remained enormously fragile in the tempestuous political
environment of early 20th-century Continental Europe. Amikejans perennially
worried over the "impermanency of their pleasing status," and this
concern was realized in 1914 when war broke out between France and Germany. [38] Although
Amikejo escaped destruction as invading German forces bypassed it — it was,
fortuitously, "an oasis in a desert of destruction" — the War proved
a ready excuse, confirming the suspicion that "Prussia … always had the
intention to appropriate the territory" when Germany statutorily annexed
the district in 1915.[39]
Two inconceivably bloody years later, with the end of
the war in sight, only the Contemporary Review,
a British journal of politics and social reform, considered the plight of
Amikejo née Moresnet:
The fate of Moresnet has been forgotten in this
immense catastrophe. We must bear it in mind. After the victory the
plenipotentiaries who draw up the conditions of peace must not neglect this
poor little piece of independence which has been victimized.[40]
The cost of the Great War was unimaginably staggering,
dwarfing those of previous conflicts in virtually every category: 37 million
casualties, the influenza pandemic, widespread hunger, civil dislocation,
economic wreckage, and more. But another, seldom-considered consequence of the
war — of all wars — was, and is, the uncountable heaps of unfulfilled promises
and discarded goals left in the wake of the conflagration. And with article 32
of the Treaty of Versailles — "Germany recognizes the full sovereignty of
Belgium over the whole of the contested territory of Moresnet"[41] — these were joined by yet another: Dr. Molly's
vision.
Notes
[2] Robert Shackleton, Unvisited Places of Old Europe (Philadelphia: The
Penn Publishing Company, 1913), p.157.
[11] A Manual of Belgium and the Adjoining
Territories. Naval Intelligence Division. (Great Britain: H. M. Stationary
Office, 1918) p. 246.
[14] William S. Walsh, A Handy Book of Curious Information (Philadelphia:
J. B. Lippincott Company, 1913) p. 558-559.
[15] Both Belgium (1847) and Prussia (1875)
ultimately rescinded their exemption of emigrants in the Moresnet zone from
conscription military service.
[17] The Moresnet.nl website notes that Wilhelm Molly
was awarded the Geheimrat title by Prussia,
which translates to "special [medical] counselor." This author finds
amusement in noting that the term may have incurred ironic gravity over time as
it was also used by German Kaisers to refer to academics that irritated them,
as Molly's heroic efforts in Moresnet/Amikejo undoubtedly did.
[28] Links between anarchism/libertarianism and
Esperanto are copious, if perplexingly underinvestigated. While a portion of
Esperanto's usage has always been co-opted by leftist and Utopian groups, its
founding principle was anti-state to the extent that it was created to skirt
nationalism and provide possibilities for more seamless, peaceful interaction:
facilitating trade and avoiding violent conflict. The great writer and
linguistics genius J. R. R. Tolkien, who occasionally espoused anti-state views
("My political opinions lean more and more to anarchy. The most improper
job of any man, even saints, is bossing other men.") wrote, "My
advice to all who have the time or inclination to concern themselves with the
international language movement would be: 'Back Esperanto loyally.' See "La Filozofio de Libereco" ("The
Philosophy of Liberty"), ISIL.org.
[29] N. Z. Maimon, "La Cionista Periodo en la
Vivo de Zamenhof," Nica Literatura Revuo 3/5:
p. 165–177.
[37] Louis Viereck, "Moresnet — The Smallest
State on Earth," The Fatherland Vol
III, No. 2 (1915): 33.
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