The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Fifteenth Lecture

[ 1 ] It is precisely in our current reflections on current events that we can truly come to realize what we can gain for our souls by trying to immerse ourselves in spiritual scientific knowledge. It has often been emphasized that spiritual scientific knowledge should not remain mere theory, but should come alive by, so to speak, permeating the feelings, sensations, and other impulses that are naturally sacred to it, and by imparting a certain momentum, a certain mood to our soul—so that we, as spiritual scientists, fit into the human context differently than a non-spiritual scientist does.

[ 2 ] We have considered various aspects of a person’s affiliation with this or that folk culture, or, as is also said in more recent times, with this or that nation or nationality. Now, it is precisely this universal human quality that a person carries within themselves without it being individualized or specified within this or that folk culture—something that can be brought fully into consciousness through spiritual science, because everything that constitutes the core content of anthroposophically oriented spiritual science truly applies to every human being, without any distinction based on group affiliation. And when one views national distinctions from an anthroposophical standpoint, one views them differently than from a non-anthroposophical standpoint, in that one objectively examines, so to speak, what these distinctions are based upon. Things can be objectively examined.

[ 3 ] We are, of course, aware of the threefold nature of our soul—the feeling soul, the intellectual or emotional soul, and the conscious soul—all three of which are filled, spiritualized, and lived through by the “I.” The soul of feeling is that which is particularly influenced by the Italian national soul when the forces and impulses of the national soul work their way into the individual human soul. The intellectual or emotional soul in the individual is particularly receptive to the French national soul; the consciousness soul to the British national soul; the “I” to the Central European national souls; and the spiritual self to the national souls of the Slavic peoples. If we recognize and fully grasp this, we should no longer be tempted to make judgments such as those that are so frequently made.

[ 4 ] Someone who has heard these things has now, in a sense, become angry because he has learned that, according to anthroposophically oriented spiritual science, German national character is interpreted as if the national soul were influencing the “I.” — His mistake was that he regarded this as something higher than the consciousness soul being influenced by the national soul. That was his own fault! In spiritual science, things are presented side by side in their objectivity. The national souls have their tasks, and these consist in this influence. But regarding this influence of the national soul on the human soul, we must be absolutely clear that a certain development must take place, particularly in our fifth post-Atlantean epoch. And those who are now drawn to anthroposophically oriented spiritual science should actually see themselves as the first link in this development.

[ 5 ] How, then, does the national soul actually influence the human mind? If we consider what happens in this regard, given the nature of humanity as it is, we must say: The influence of the national soul on the individual human soul is initially a subconscious process that only partially rises into consciousness. A person feels a sense of belonging to this or that national culture, and for the most part, the influence of the national soul on the individual human being occurs through the intermediary of the maternal principle. The maternal principle is embedded in the national soul. What draws the human being—as a physical-etheric natural being—more strongly out of the group context is the influence of the paternal impulse. I have discussed this at length in previous years. From the perspective of the Christian worldview, this is already expressed in the Gospels. This, too, has been discussed in previous years. Essentially, as things still stand today, the influence of the national soul first works its way into the human being through the blood and through that which corresponds to the blood in the etheric body. Of course, we are dealing here with a more or less animalistic impulse, and it remains animalistic for the vast majority of people today. A person belongs to a certain ethnic group through their blood. It is difficult to analyze in detail which mysterious forces and impulses act upon the blood, because these impulses are extraordinarily varied and multifaceted. But they lie beneath the surface of consciousness.

[ 6 ] People live much more consciously in all that is human within them, regardless of nationality. That is why the pathos, the passion, and the emotion with which a person feels a sense of belonging to a particular nationality emerge with a certain elemental force. People will not attempt to invoke logical reasons or judgments when it comes to determining or feeling their sense of belonging to their nationality. The blood—and the heart, which is under the influence of the blood—unites a person with their nationality, allowing them to live within it. The impulses at work here are subconscious, and much is already gained simply by being aware of this subconscious nature. It is precisely in this regard that it is important for a person approaching spiritual science to undergo an inner development, so that, in a sense, they perceive these matters differently than the rest of humanity. When people who do not belong to spiritual science are asked how they relate to their nationality, they will—and must—say: Through blood! — That is the only concept they can form regarding their connection to their nationality. The student of spiritual science should gradually come to give not this answer, but another. If he were unable to gradually develop toward this other answer, he would take spiritual science only theoretically, not in the true sense—practically and vividly. So while the non-spiritual scientist can only give himself the answer: “Through my blood I am connected to my nationality; through my blood I defend what lives in the nation; through my blood I feel the obligation to identify with my nationality”—the spiritual scientist must give himself the other answer: “Through my karma I am connected to my nationality, for it is a part of my karma.” — As soon as one introduces concepts of karma, however, one spiritualizes the entire relationship. And while the non-spiritual scientist will invoke pathos, impulsiveness, and blood for everything he does as a member of a particular people, the one who has undergone spiritual scientific development will feel connected to this or that national character through karma.

[ 7 ] This is a spiritualization of the matter. Outwardly, the same thing may take place; outwardly, a person who experiences this spiritualization may assert the same thing; but inwardly, the matter will be spiritualized, and he will feel quite differently from someone who, so to speak, experiences this sense of belonging only on an animal level.

[ 8 ] Here you see precisely a point at which belonging to the spiritual sciences transforms the soul, instilling a different mood within it. At the same time, however, you see how far behind the general consciousness of the age lags from what could well be known today by those who are willing to learn. The general consciousness of the age cannot help but conceive of a person’s affiliation with a nationality in terms of blood, or in terms of what is regulated—not so much by blood itself, but in connection with blood and based on this view of blood. A much freer conception of this affiliation will take hold when the entire matter is viewed as a matter of karma. Then certain subtle concepts will emerge for those who perhaps consciously align themselves with one nationality or another and thereby effect a shift in their karma.

[ 9 ] But however we look at the matter—whether in the imperfect sense in which the majority of humanity must perceive it today, or in the more perfect sense in which one can perceive it as a follower of spiritual science—the fact remains that, due to general world conditions, humanity is today divided into groups. And nothing can make us more painfully aware than current events that this differentiation into groups still exists to a great extent today. At the same time, this differentiation into groups is often intertwined with entirely different circumstances and facts, making it difficult for people to understand why such painful contrasts and such painful disharmonies can arise within humanity, as they have now.

[ 10 ] In short, there is something tragic in what is being addressed here that should have nothing to do with ordinary logic or external, superficial judgments; for whether one views the matter as a matter of blood or a matter of karma: blood lies below, and karma above, the realm of logic. Therefore, what is being considered here must necessarily result in conflicts in human coexistence, and these conflicts must be understood as inevitable. To believe that these conflicts can be judged by the same concepts that apply to individual human beings leads to the greatest errors, and therein lies the great error that today, to a very large extent, conflicts between peoples are discussed as if they were conflicts between human beings, conflicts between individual human beings. I have already pointed this out: concepts such as justice and freedom are applicable to individual human beings; to present them as program points for nations means, from the outset, knowing nothing about the peculiarities of the national character and having no desire whatsoever to address the distinctive nature of the national.

[ 11 ] For those who see through things and are able to discern objective, natural necessities through spiritual insight, the faith expressed in many publications today is no different from the faith a shark would have if it said: “I want to make a deal with the little fish that I usually eat! It is inhuman to eat the little fish; I will stop doing that!” — In doing so, it is signing its own death warrant, for that is simply the way the world is arranged: the shark eats the little fish!

[ 12 ] One must develop a deep sense that one cannot understand the world unless one sees, in reality, the necessary conflicts that lead to tragedy in the world. And at the same time, it means failing to understand the very nature of the physical plane if one believes that something like a paradise could exist within it. Paradise is not on Earth. There must necessarily be a lack of understanding among those who either seek to realize the New Jerusalem as a utopia within the physical world or, like a social democrat, wish to bring about some other generally satisfying state of affairs. It is a profound law that, insofar as a person lives here on the physical plane, they can only arrive at a satisfying understanding of reality if they are aware that higher worlds exist, that their soul is connected to higher worlds. Only when we know that we are citizens of higher worlds is true satisfaction possible. Therefore, if humanity’s spiritual consciousness were to be extinguished, a time would inevitably come when people would no longer be able to understand why there is so much suffering and so many conflicts in the world. These conflicts can be resolved only when one feels alive not only in the physical world but also in the spiritual world. Then one begins to understand: Just as a person cannot remain young forever but must also grow old, so too must there be a process of dismantling what has been built up, meaning that conflicts and destruction must exist alongside creation. When one understands this, one understands that conflicts must also arise between groups of people. These conflicts are the tragedy of world events, and they must be understood as such.

[ 13 ] In order to truly bring the living concept, the living idea—which is what I mean by this—to life in your mind, I would like to recall a somewhat harsh remark made by the poet Friedrich Hebbel. Hebbel was, after all, a genius of a somewhat ponderous sort who, despite his abundant sense of humor, found it difficult to produce work. As I have already explained to you, he was not very far removed from the spiritual-scientific view of the world. For example, he entered the following plan in his diary: Plato, reincarnated, sits as a student in a high school class where the teacher is just going over Plato’s works, and understands nothing at all of what is supposed to be contained in Plato, so that the professor rebukes him harshly. Hebbel wanted to treat this idea dramatically. He never got around to it; but one can see that he himself had in mind the portrayal of the idea of reincarnation in drama.

[ 14 ] Hebbel knew Grillparzer, who was his contemporary. Hebbel was, as mentioned, a somewhat ponderous, melancholic genius, and when he had watched Grillparzer’s plays Das Goldene Vlies, Weh dem, der lügt!, “Der Traum ein Leben,” and so on, he said—and this is very interesting: Grillparzer portrays tragic conflicts, but ones in which one can always say that if only the characters were truly wise and could see through the circumstances, these conflicts would ultimately have to resolve themselves. — In Grillparzer’s work, following Hebbel, the tragic actually arises from the fact that people are not wise enough to see through the tragedy. But that, he argued, is not the true tragedy; the true tragedy between people arises only when the characters, no matter how wise or prudent they may be, find that all their wisdom and prudence are of no help to them: the conflict must inevitably arise.

[ 15 ] What Hebbel claims for himself as a playwright—what he calls the “truly tragic”—we must introduce as a category, as a concept, into the development of humanity, into what is truly human; otherwise, one will always arrive at the simplistic judgment that this or that could have been avoided. Things cannot be avoided if they lead to conflicts such as the one we are currently facing. And all the grand declarations about the concept of guilt seem quite out of place in the face of a rigorous assessment.

[ 16 ] That is why I have presented these reflections, which we have been discussing over the past few days and weeks, to make it clear that even when it comes to an event such as the Opium War, one does not speak of “guilt” in the same sense as one does in the relationship between human beings, between one individual and another. For these concepts—guilt, freedom, and so on—as they apply to individual human beings, do not apply to souls living on other planes; and national souls do not live on the physical plane, but rather act upon the physical plane only through the individual soul; they are situated in other spheres, on other planes.

[ 17 ] These things are already being felt by some people today. But one cannot understand them if one attempts to judge events using the terms that are commonplace today, rather than trying to examine the factual evidence. To present oneself today as a member of a particular nationality and to judge other nationalities in the same way one might judge a single individual reveals nothing other than a lack of judgment. That, however, even in the most horrific historical documents—on which infinite amounts of blood will depend—ignorance and backwardness are evident because certain statesmen have lagged behind what is already known today is, of course, a historical necessity. But on the other hand, it must be emphasized again and again to those who are willing to listen that the progress and salvation of humanity lie in deriving judgment from spiritual life in order to move forward.

[ 18 ] But in some places, we can sense what is necessary today in order to judge. It just cannot be brought to conscious awareness. Here is an example: spiritual science will truly become part of us—if I may put it that way—only when we learn to view external, everyday reality from the perspective of spiritual science. In England, the historian Professor Seeley was active in the 1870s and 1880s. What he taught was in many ways decisive for what later took root in the minds of many people. Seeley is perhaps England’s first historical imperialist—historical in his imperialism, imperialistic as a historian—for he viewed British history, as it developed over the centuries, from the perspective that it was ultimately directed toward the establishment of the great British Empire, which today encompasses a quarter of the inhabitable earth. In his lectures, which were published in the 1870s and went through many editions—there were years when a new edition appeared every year, and he had many students—he set out to compile all the individual facts through which the British Empire became what it is today. And he saw in this something like divine providence, that the individual pieces had come together in this way as a result of this or that impulse. He also asks the question: How did all this actually come about? — and states explicitly: There were no people who decided all this, who at any given time did something to add yet another piece to the British Empire with the intention of creating an empire of the grandest scale; rather, all of this happened in earlier times as if by instinct. — These individual parts came together instinctively, and, in Seeley’s view, there lies a divine-spiritual order in this coming together. Now, he said, our task is to raise what has happened instinctively thus far into consciousness and to refine what has become instinctive into a firmly structured empire the likes of which the world has never seen. And he saw his task as an imperialist historian precisely in infusing consciousness into what had been unconsciously brought together. Seeley seeks, so to speak, to raise into the present consciousness of the fifth post-Atlantean epoch that which, through still atavistic forces in accordance with the laws of the fourth post-Atlantean epoch, contributed to the emergence of the British Empire. But we have pointed out that it is not only intellectual, rational thinking that grasps the instinctive convergence of the parts; rather, as I was able to tell you, in the last decades of the 19th century there were also certain adherents of occultist movements who set about expanding this British Empire not only with ordinary consciousness, but also with occult consciousness, set about expanding this British Empire by literally placing maps before their own souls and those of their listeners and students, maps that showed what must come into being when the British Empire radiates its powers across the world. Within these occult circles, the idea was consciously promoted that the fifth post-Atlantean epoch belongs to the English-speaking peoples. And from this perspective, all divisions were made and all details arranged. Certainly, the “Regius Professor” did not see through this; but others did see through it and consciously made it part of their impulses. This must definitely be noted.

[ 19 ] We will speak more about what has been seen through; but what has not been seen through nevertheless penetrates human minds and, in a certain way, stirs things up within them. And so, in our time, a strange interplay has already arisen between that which, in a sense, lurks occultly in the background and pulls the strings, and that which, knowing nothing of these things, lives out in the foreground on the stage of events on the physical plane.

[ 20 ] One must know such things in order to be able to make judgments correctly. I have already cited a few curious facts to you recently—the case of the “Almanac of Madame de Thebes” and similar ones; you will recall that I mentioned these things. But without taking sides in any way, but rather purely objectively: Isn’t it a peculiar matter that gives pause to those who merely think, and to those who consider spiritual connections—though it demands more than mere reflection, requiring instead contemplation and an internalization of the matter into one’s own impulses— —isn’t it peculiar that as early as the 1890s, an English book was published, authored by three editors of The Times, bearing the title The War of 189.? The time periods addressed in the book were, however, treated somewhat amateurishly. It refers to the current war, though the authors intended to set it a bit too early. The book contains a minor error: it states that the war is to begin with an assassination attempt on the Bulgarian Prince Ferdinand, which would then lead to a European conflagration. And the details of this European conflagration are described with such strange prophetic accuracy that, in broad strokes, they confirm the events that actually took place. One could say that the book’s greatest error is that it confuses the Bulgarian Prince Ferdinand with Franz Ferdinand of Austria, and that the incident took place not in Sofia but in Sarajevo. But I believe it is of significance that should not be underestimated that this book was published in 1892 and depicts a future event in such a remarkable way. If one tries not to form abstract judgments, but rather to form one’s judgment based on what is there, then one alone comes to develop the ability to glimpse a little into the configuration of things.

[ 21 ] Of course, even those who were able to see something of the events that were to take place—as is always the case when one speaks of such things—have shifted this or that in the details. One doesn’t always see everything clearly. But it should give us pause to consider that there were, after all, people who had such good reason to look into these matters that they went so far as to publish their findings. I want to present all of this to you—precisely in the context in which we find ourselves—so that you may sharpen your judgment. One must indeed have the will to look at the facts and to see the facts in relation to one another. I have said in earlier reflections presented here: One can only find one’s way in the fifth post-Atlantean epoch if, on the one hand, one strives for imagination, and on the other hand, for letting the facts speak for themselves. All preconceived judgments will increasingly become mere platitudes; they are doomed to become, more and more, mere platitudes. But what one can least judge through mere abstract thinking—without engaging in thinking connected to the facts—are precisely the tragic conflicts of the world, the tragic interplay of impulses that operate as I characterized them earlier.

[ 22 ] Today, I would say, a trick of world history consists in saying things that sound plausible, that seem convincing to many people, but that actually mean nothing at all and cannot serve as the basis for a valid judgment. Let’s take a judgment like this one, which is often voiced: “The leaders of the British Empire did not want the war.” — To support this, the relevant correspondence, telegrams, letters, and so on regarding all sorts of conference proposals and the like are cited. People who judge abstractly, rather than in accordance with reality, may well be convinced of this under certain circumstances, because the matter can indeed be made to seem very plausible based on the available material. But when it comes to a judgment, what matters is not merely whether it is plausible or abstractly correct, but whether it is grounded in reality. That the rulers of the British Empire—or rather, certain key rulers—did not want the war can, under certain circumstances, be proven very easily, and this proof can make a tremendous impression on the entire peripheral world. In proving this—I say: “prove”—one does not even have to state a falsehood directly; yet it remains a real form of hypocrisy. Why? Precisely because it is true and can be proven true, but this truth is not worth a hill of beans; it does not matter at all. For one can be convinced that the rulers of the British Empire would even have gladly prevented the conflict, insofar as the British Empire is involved in it. But what they now seek to achieve through the war is precisely what they have striven for with all their might—those whose actions matter. Had this been achievable without war, they would naturally have preferred it, and from the outset it was by no means out of the question to achieve these goals by means other than war. To do so, all that would have been necessary—before war broke out—was to create some sort of substitute for an intergovernmental body, something where representatives of the various states could sit down together and decide on certain matters. If one had ensured beforehand that one held the majority in such a body, one could, of course, achieve one’s goals even without war, provided the minority agreed to it.

[ 23 ] So you see: what matters is not whether one ultimately wanted to wage war or prevent it, but rather what one wanted in the first place. And that one wanted what emerges from the various hints I have made—which, after all, can only ever be hints—will surely be clear to the objective observer. But I ask you, please, to bear in mind that I am not making a moral judgment, but rather bringing the concept of tragedy into the equation, and that when people fight out conflicts with one another, when much blood is shed, this stems from the tragedy of the conflicts themselves. However, if one wishes to perceive this tragedy from the outside, one must be willing to approach things a little differently than one usually does.

[ 24 ] How often do we hear it said: “Those judgments, sentiments, and feelings that men such as Treitschke and Bernhardi have spread among the German people are partly to blame for this war.” — Let’s set aside the grotesque for a moment: How often have we heard these names mentioned as those of utterly reckless characters, even by people who are sincerely convinced they are doing the right thing? Sometimes Nietzsche is added to the list, sometimes a few others. One can learn a great deal by considering what, I would say, lies at the root of such things in the “realm of the true.” But before I address this specifically from a spiritual standpoint—one can learn a great deal about the spiritual by observing everyday life—I would like to draw your attention to the fact that it is precisely in phenomena such as the German historian Treitschke that the tragedy of human development can become apparent. One must simply not judge by the outermost surface.

[ 25 ] If I had judged him by outward appearances, I would indeed have had to consider Treitschke a social monster for some time. I was with him only once, at a time when he was already completely deaf. People would write down what they wanted to say to him on little slips of paper, and he would then respond. When I was introduced to him, he asked me, “Where are you from?”—I wrote down that I was Austrian. He replied, “Yes, yes”—he was a loudmouth; after all, he couldn’t hear a thing himself—“Austrians are either geniuses or scoundrels, one or the other”—and so on. That’s actually how it always went with Treitschke: If you didn’t want to be counted among the geniuses, you were in for it, weren’t you? A spirited man who already possessed a certain depth, but who often expressed himself in sharply defined terms. He wrote a History of the German People that is frequently cited. It could also be cited differently than it usually is, for if one were to compile a collection of insults against the Germans abroad, one could copy them straight from Treitschke. But one refrains from doing so; rather, one seeks out what is present to a lesser extent than the truths Treitschke tells his own people: one looks for passages where he, as one believes, wrote in a particularly “Prussian-militaristic” manner.

[ 26 ] I would like to cite a judgment here that is, after all, not without interest. It comes from a man who was well-qualified to offer an opinion, since he was also a historian, and who was particularly interested in Treitschke’s undeniable antipathy toward modern English history and development. Treitschke did indeed harbor this antipathy; it became apparent very quickly once one got to know him.

[ 27 ] This historian, who knew Treitschke well, writes: Treitschke’s aversion to modern England was based partly on historical and partly on moral grounds; as a person, Treitschke took offense at England’s status as a world power because of its immorality, its arrogance, and its pretensions. “Not without justification”—please take note of this—”Treitschke describes England’s policy in the 18th and 19th centuries as consistently aimed at keeping Prussia down, as soon as English politicians discovered the true nature of that state and sensed the great future that fate had in store for it. Was England not Prussia’s treacherous yet timid enemy in 1864 and 1866, then in 1870–71, and above all in 1874–75?”

[ 28 ] This is what the historian says when discussing Treitschke’s antipathy toward England. The strongest argument he offers in Treitschke’s favor is his “conviction that England’s world domination bears no relation whatsoever to England’s actual strength and true worth in political, social, intellectual, and moral terms.” He goes on to say: “His loathing is a revulsion against humbug... What Germany hates about England is the same thing Napoleon hated about England—a presumptuous, arrogant, petty-bourgeois self-righteousness that is in reality by no means patriotism or such a lofty, serious love of country as the German kind in the years 1813 and 1870, but merely a narrow-minded, insular self-love. ... That is, after all, what the song ‘Rule Britannia’ says.” He continues: “But Treitschke is rarely witty; on the other hand, he is often—albeit unintentionally—offensive. He is just as incapable as Heine”—whom the historian cites alongside Treitschke in the introduction—“of seeing anything beautiful in the English character.”

[ 29 ] This is also a judgment on Treitschke. And since we are on the subject of this historian, I would like to quote another judgment he made about the much-maligned Bernhardi: “What characterizes the book,” he says—and the book he is referring to is precisely the one that is now always cited as a particularly abominable book—“as truly epoch-making is that it presents us with a definitive attempt by a German officer not only to figure out how Germany could wage war against England with a prospect of success, but also why it must wage such a war.”

[ 30 ] All of this is written about Treitschke and Bernhardi by the English professor Cramb, who, from his perspective, could be called the “Treitschke of England.” Anyone who examines the matter closely will find an extraordinary similarity in the overall tone between Cramb and Treitschke, for Cramb is at the same time wholeheartedly committed to making it clear that the British Empire must rule the world, that everything must be done to bring the British Empire to world domination. And one can say that he speaks of England in no other way than Treitschke—naturally, with the differences between an Englishman and a German—speaks of Germany. Here we see how, of two men, each of whom, from his own point of view, must say the opposite of the other, at least one can fully appreciate the other. In a certain sense, people had truly already reached the point where, for the sake of the supra-individual and the historical, they had shed what needed to be shed.

[ 31 ] It is therefore an immensely distressing setback, a regression for humanity, when even the most weighty documents now contain completely inaccurate judgments. One really does not need to go far; one merely needs—I would say—the intuition—which today, however, can only be maintained through some connection with spiritual science—to seek out the truth; then one can practically grasp the truths with one’s own hands. It is, however, simply grotesque that, after the Russian plan to seize the Dardanelles and Constantinople had existed for centuries—and this plan is even acknowledged—it is simultaneously claimed: “We are innocent, utterly innocent!” — Once again, we find this combination: “We are utterly innocent—but we do indeed want to conquer; nevertheless, we are utterly innocent”—in a historical document of the very highest order that has recently made its way around the world: the Tsar’s decree. But you see, even in Russia, people have not always judged matters as they do today.

[ 32 ] For example, Kuropatkin published a book in 1910 on the “Tasks of the Russian Army.” There is a curious passage in this book that, I would say, those who speak of Russia’s great innocence should really take to heart. It reads: “If Russia does not put an end to its interference in a matter that is foreign to it and at the same time of such vital interest to Austria, then one can expect the outbreak of a war between Russia and Austria in the 20th century over the Serbian question.” This was said in 1910 by Russian General Kuropatkin, who, of course, foresaw what, on Russia’s part, was bound to lead to a war with Austria over the Serbian conflict.

[ 33 ] This raises the question: Why is the truth being distorted today? — Simply because one cannot readily tell the truth, yet must say something. I already hinted at this yesterday. The things that are said are intended precisely to cast a fog over the truth, specifically to divert people’s attention from the truth. To do this, of course, one must choose arguments that immediately strike people—who are unwilling to truly examine the reasons behind things—as plausible, based purely on sentimentality.

[ 34 ] It would be desirable, above all, for more and more people to understand the full, complete significance of even unconscious or subconscious untruths. I have often said this: One cannot use the excuse that so-and-so said something and one believed it. — Admittedly, I will never take the position that many of the people who say this or that today do not actually believe it. I do not wish to take that position without further consideration, but that is not the point at all. Things have an effect in the world, and whoever says something has an obligation to be concerned with the truth; mere belief is not enough. If someone unconsciously or even subconsciously reverses something in the way I have indicated—by even saying that he wanted to prevent the war—then, given that he simply wanted to achieve by means other than war what he hoped to achieve and strove for with all his intensity, this “truth” is not worth a penny and is something far worse than a falsehood, even though outwardly it appears to be a truth. And this is the immensely heavy karma of humanity at the present time: that people do not feel bound to the true, real truth and truthfulness that lives in the facts—indeed, that its opposite has already come to rule the world and, it seems, is destined to rule it more and more. Outward deeds are always the consequence of what lives in humanity as thought; they are the consequence of insincerity, which perhaps appears precisely under the guise of truth because it can be “proven”—as they say—but only on a superficial level. What lives in this way in people’s judgments can, in a sense, be the sound of cannon fire and bloodshed on another plane. There is indeed a connection here. The consequence of this, however, is that we must focus more and more on reality; we must acquire a sense that leads us to see, in the right places, those things that are truly enlightening, that reveal the essential.