× Expand Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons Germany and Upper Italy, circa 1477.

Talking with filmmaker Bill Streeter a couple of months ago, the possible influence of German culture in the fragmentation of St. Louis regional politics came up in conversation. While it is certainly not an identical situation, comparing medieval German history to St. Louis, there are interesting similarities—despite obvious differences—that can help shine perspective, and certainly there are valuable lessons that residents and leaders can learn from past choices and mistakes. History does repeat itself.

First, starting at the beginning: the modern Europe we know today is the product of the last several thousand years of history, coalescing perhaps most famously with the Roman Empire, which laid the foundation for Western Civilization. When the Roman Empire split in half, and then the western half collapsed in 476 AD, the status quo that had existed for centuries ended, plunging Europe into the Dark Ages. The appearance of the Frankish King Charlemagne, who received the newly created title of Holy Roman Emperor from the Pope on Christmas of 800 AD, seemed like the beginning of a new unity not since the end of the old Roma Empire. The Frankish Kingdom ruled much of Western Europe, and a resulting renaissance of culture and political power came to Charlemagne’s domains.

However, it was not to last, as the Kingdom of France actually left the Holy Roman Empire, leaving much of what is now Germany, central Europe and northern Italy. And everything seemed to be going well for a while; the Pope and Emperor both worked together, each validating and protecting each other politically and spiritually. That comity ended when Pope Gregory VII demanded the ability to name (or invest, hence the Investiture Controversy) the bishops of the Empire, a power the Emperor had enjoyed for generations. Henry IV, the Holy Roman Emperor, refused, and was excommunicated. While the Emperor and Pope reconciled (remember that guy who kneeled in the snow from history class? That was Henry IV), the political damage was already done.

The various dukes and princes of the Holy Roman Empire had smelled blood, and they devoutly—and assiduously—backed the Pope. The power of the Emperor was broken, and the formerly powerful Empire was fractured into hundreds of largely independent principalities, some smaller than even the smallest fiefdoms of St. Louis County. The Emperor still existed, but none of his vassals, the princes, bishops and dukes of his Empire, paid any attention to him. It only descended into greater fragmentation during the Reformation, as northern German princes joined the Lutheran Church, further decentralizing power throughout the Empire. When Napoleon finally destroyed the Empire in 1806, it really didn’t matter much anymore; France, England and Russia—much more politically unified—had long since passed by the Empire in military and economic power.

Sound familiar?

Our own region bears many of the sad characteristics of the Holy Roman Empire. The “Great Divorce,” when St. Louis City left the County in 1876, could very well be our own “Investiture Controversy,” that moment in time when a once cohesive and powerful political entity began to fracture, for none other than selfish reasons. St. Louis didn’t want to pay for St. Louis County, choosing local, parochial motives over long-term planning. The Great Divorce also, of course, made the annexation of additional land for the City impossible. In place of a unified central government with plentiful resources, St. Louis County became a patchwork of tiny municipalities—little fiefdoms whose original reasons for incorporation have long since been forgotten. Of course, these small, inefficient and politically powerless fiefs have their defenders: something about small, personal local government. Certainly, at some point, a minor duke or prince made the same argument as he added another wing onto his little palace up on the hill. At one point, there were dozens of little toll booths along the Rhine River, each owned by a local lord whose small economy couldn’t support his lifestyle, bilking travelers out of money to pass. Sound familiar?

Of course, just as France or England once played the little principalities of the Holy Roman Empire, nowadays major corporations play the same game. Don’t give us a tax subsidy? That’s fine, the little town a half mile away will. Imagine if the County was a single political entity; Wal-Mart couldn’t go down the block into another town when it didn’t get its way, could it? Real political power comes from strength in numbers, and nothing else. A city of one million people can stand up to a corporation more effectively than a town of one thousand.

The debilitating fragmentation and political powerlessness that the Holy Roman Empire suffered from for hundreds of years did not end on its own accord. No minor prince gives up his meal ticket willingly. It was against the will of those benefiting from disorganization that the political fragmentation of Germany ended. A lot of princes and dukes lost their jobs during the unification of Germany. So be it. Germany now boasts of the largest and healthiest economies in the world. Would that have been possible if it was still a mess of two hundred little fiefdoms?

The lessons of the failure of the Holy Roman Empire, where hundreds of thousands of modern St. Louisans can trace their ancestral roots, are clear. Looking to cities in America that do not have the fragmentation of our region, one thing emerges: while not foolproof, politically unified regions fare much, much greater in the tough economic world of today. When will St. Louis follow the lead of its more successful neighbors and abandon the political fragmentation that didn’t work hundreds of years ago, and continues to fail us now?

Chris Naffziger writes about architecture at St. Louis Patina. Contact him via email at naffziger@gmail.com.