Central Europe between East and West
GA 174a
19 May 1917, Munich
Translated by Steiner Online Library
Seventh Lecture
[ 1 ] Today I would like to take a starting point that can lead us to an understanding of some of the things that surround us in the present age and that we view with curiosity. Our age demands to be understood in such a way that people approach it with a deeper, spiritual understanding. Yet, on the other hand, there is a deep aversion in the broadest circles to a spiritual understanding of human conditions; indeed, this aversion is so strong that any attempt at spiritual understanding—any attempt to grasp the impulses that can guide human actions in our difficult times—is rejected from the outset as something fanciful, something impossible, something childish. Nevertheless, these very reflections, which we can cultivate together here, are to be devoted to what—though, as is easily understandable, does not speak directly of the circumstances of the times (for, as is well known, that is impossible)—can nevertheless lead to some understanding for those who make the effort to arrive at such an understanding from truly deeper starting points.
[ 2 ] To understand a time in which the deepest forces of humanity are, so to speak, being stirred up—a time in which these deepest forces are at work, even if most people remain completely unaware of them—it is necessary not merely to talk idly about all sorts of ideals and all sorts of things, but to seek understanding from a broader perspective on the development of humanity in general. We have, after all, always tried within our spiritual scientific reflections to arrive at such a broader perspective on human development, and a great deal has already been accomplished in this regard. Today I would like to present some of these ideas again from slightly different perspectives.
[ 3 ] We know that, in the course of human evolution, an event took place that we call the great Atlantean catastrophe. We know that what now lives as humanity can be traced back to certain stages of development that occurred before that Atlantean catastrophe, and that following this Atlantean catastrophe, we can identify the first post-Atlantean cultural period, which I usually call the ancient Indian; the second, which I usually call the ancient Persian; the third, the Assyrian-Babylonian-Egyptian; and the fourth, the Greco-Roman; and we are living in the fifth, and must look to see how the fifth will be succeeded by a sixth.
[ 4 ] The point is that, as inwardly, as spiritually—I would almost say, as humanly—as the development within humanity is now unfolding, it could only have unfolded at all after the Atlantean catastrophe. People today, who are generally averse to viewing things in context, think: A human being is a human being, and just as the soul development of human beings is today, so has it been ever since human beings have existed; and if we go back from what is regarded today as humanity, we do indeed arrive at primitive states, but then we descend into the animal realm. — This materialistic interpretation of the history of evolution cannot stand up to a spiritual perspective; for precisely when we go back—and go further and further back in human evolution—we find that the fundamental impulses, the fundamental forces underlying evolution, become ever more spiritual, although, if we wish to understand the matter correctly, we must first bring ourselves to form a proper concept of the spiritual.
[ 5 ] For our post-Atlantean era, the fourth epoch is, above all, a significant one—the most significant for the meaning of the entire evolution of the Earth: it is the epoch in which the Mystery of Golgotha comes into play. And this calls upon us to view the time before it as a kind of preparation for the Mystery of Golgotha, and the time after it as a kind of fulfillment of what came as an impulse through the Mystery of Golgotha. But if we go back to the Atlantean era, we find that the fifth period within Atlantean development is the most important for this time between the Lemurian era and our own, because during this fifth period of Atlantean development, within the life of the Atlantean people, something extraordinarily significant and a decisive event took place, for it was then, so to speak, that the starting point was taken for what we might call the more spiritual development of the post-Atlantean era. When we go back to the Atlantean era, we do not find there the animal-like humanity of which materialistically interpreted Darwinism so readily speaks; we find a humanity that, admittedly, led a life that was far more dull than that of post-Atlantean humanity; and when speaking of the dullness of soul life, one might be tempted to say—though the comparison remains entirely superficial—that this duller, dreamlike soul life of the Atlantean era resembles the dreamlike soul life of today’s higher animals. — But the comparison, if one were to make it that way, would be thoroughly flawed, because present-day animals, in their dull, dreamlike state of consciousness, do not at all experience or perceive what the Atlanteans experienced in their dreamlike, dull consciousness almost until the end of the fifth epoch.
[ 6 ] What, then, is the most essential characteristic of this dreamlike state of consciousness among the ancient Atlanteans? The most essential characteristic is that the people who lived back then—forgive me if what I’m saying sounds materialistic; but one can only recognize the materialistic when one has mastered it, when one is aware of the impulses of the spiritual—lived in such a way that their spiritual life was very closely connected to their dietary life, their eating habits. Of course, you might object: Well, there is already a sufficiently close relationship between the spiritual life of many people today and what they eat! — That is all true; we know that a large part of present-day humanity by no means underestimates the importance of food. Nor does this need to be regarded as a reproach in and of itself. But the difference between the inner experience of tasting a dish—the sense of well-being that a person today feels when they physically connect the food to themselves—and the inner experience of Atlantean humanity during the period I am now speaking of is indeed a great one. The Atlantean ate—he ate this or that food; he thus consumed these or those substances, and as he united them with his physical being, a realization dawned in his consciousness of which elemental spirits permeated that substance. Thus, unlike modern humans, who consume food with great unconsciousness, they were aware of which elemental spirits they were uniting with themselves by connecting the substance to their physical existence. Metabolism at that time was simultaneously a spiritual transformation, a transformation of elemental spirits.
[ 7 ] It was the case that one could describe foods as carriers of this or that elemental spiritual impulse or even spiritual beings; that one felt spiritual forces entering one’s body along with the food; and that, as one digested, one felt spiritual impulses at work within oneself. Such a person did not merely sit down and digest like a person today, but felt physically permeated by these or those elemental spirits, so that a materialism such as prevails today was actually not at all possible in those days. One could not even say that one believed only in the mortality of existence, for one was, after all, consuming the spiritual impulses; they surged through one as one digested. In a sense, all one needed to do to be an anti-materialist was to eat. And the descent into the dullness of unconsciousness is essentially an achievement of this fifth Atlantean epoch. Eating and digestion became, in a sense, less spiritual; yet there remained something in the sixth Atlantean epoch that was even more spiritual: that was breathing.
[ 8 ] When a person inhales or exhales today, they become aware that they are breathing in or out; at least, that is what the chemist tells them. Back then, it was not merely a matter of awareness; rather—and this persisted throughout the entire sixth Atlantean epoch—it was clear to human beings that with the air they inhaled, they took in elemental-spiritual forces, and with the air they exhaled, they exhaled elemental-spiritual forces. From the very beginning, breathing was regarded—precisely because of what it was—as a spiritual-soul process, not merely as a physical-bodily process. And in the final Atlantean epoch, something began to wane that had persisted until then, something that later survived only in memory: When people heard sounds and saw colors, they were clearly aware that something spiritual lived within the sound they heard and the color they saw—that spiritual forces entered the eye when they saw colors, and spiritual forces entered the inner being when they heard sounds. All these things were present in the dim consciousness of that time. People have attained a clearer consciousness, but at the expense of their consciousness, they had to give up the spiritual quality of their interaction with the external world. Every epoch has its own particular character. Just as the individual human being goes through different stages of life, and these stages differ in terms of physical and psychological constitution, so too does the entire development of humanity pass through various states, and the later stages of development differ from the earlier ones. It would be foolish for a man between the ages of fifty and sixty to believe that his present physical and spiritual existence should recall his existence between the ages of ten and twenty, just as it would be foolish not to distinguish between the different stages of life in terms of their qualities. It is foolish to believe that what is characteristic of a later stage of life’s development was also characteristic of an earlier one. Things never return, and they differ more in successive stages of life than one might think.
[ 9 ] I have now made it a point to learn specifically about the stages of human life in the post-Atlantean era. Anyone who relies solely on analogies might look at the development of humanity and say to themselves: Just as the individual human being goes through childhood, youth, adulthood, and old age, so too will humanity. But if one examines actual observations and the real facts, this is not true. One simply cannot base one’s understanding on these analogies, and only when one takes spiritual research seriously does one discover what actually underlies it. And it has become clear to me that something entirely different underlies it than what one might describe by saying that, just as the individual human being does, so too does humanity pass through youth, maturity, and old age. — That is not correct. It has become clear to me that humanity, in the first post-Atlantean cultural period—the Proto-Indian period—was indeed at a certain stage of life, but at a stage that cannot be compared to youth; rather, it can be compared to the individual human life span from the age of fifty-six back to the age of forty-nine. So if one wishes to compare the age of humanity at that time with the age of an individual human being, one must not compare it with the period of youth, but with this more mature stage of life. Then comes the Proto-Persian cultural period. As humanity continues to develop, it goes through a stage of life that, if one wishes to compare it to the life of an individual, corresponds to the period from the age of forty-nine to forty-two. The individual grows older, while humanity grows younger. The Egyptian period must be compared, in the case of the individual, to the age between forty-two and thirty-five. The Greco-Roman period must be compared to the age of an individual between thirty-five and twenty-eight, and the current fifth post-Atlantean cultural period is comparable to the age of a person from twenty-eight to twenty-one. And if we ask: How old is humanity today? — we must answer: It is approximately twenty-seven years old. And only then can one understand everything that has taken place within humanity, when one allows this remarkable mystery of evolution to come before one’s soul. For this is truly how things are.
[ 10 ] But this has very specific consequences, very specific effects on human experience. What does it mean, then, that during the first post-Atlantean cultural period, all of humanity was between the ages of fifty-six and forty-nine? It means that the individual human being, of course, went through the process of first becoming one, two, or three years old; but the fundamental essence of humanity—into which the individual immersed themselves, and which encompassed all of humanity—offered something that the individual human being only experiences between the ages of forty-nine and fifty-six. This is also why so much of humanity’s original, elemental knowledge—which we can admire—emerged during this period: because all of humanity was so old, and because people grew into such an ancient humanity. As a young adult of twenty-five, one absorbed from the human aura that which is wise, as if it came from an older person. Wisdom was poured out over all of humanity. One also absorbed moral values in this way, by cherishing that into which one grew, just as one grows into the aura of humanity—just as one cherishes a head that has turned gray simply because it has turned gray. And so a sense of reverence and piety was poured out over human cultural life; it was taken for granted. This had the further consequence that one only outgrew what was the common heritage of humanity through one’s individual development after reaching the age of fifty-six. Only then could one speak of one’s own development; only then could one emerge individually from the foundation of what flowed in from the outside. However, many people at that time did not have the opportunity to undergo the inner development corresponding to the period of life between the ages of forty-nine and fifty-six. They were then regarded as children and felt like children, sensing around them the spiritual content of the age of humanity.
[ 11 ] The next period, the Proto-Persian period, no longer brought such lofty revelations and cultural impulses as those that the wise fathers had brought to humanity during the first post-Atlantean period through their contact with spiritual beings. Humanity as a whole displayed a level of maturity comparable to that of an individual between the ages of forty-nine and forty-two. And if one wished, so to speak, to grow beyond the general human aura on an individual level, this was only possible upon reaching the age of forty-nine. But through individual development, one grew into a maturity that could only begin at the age of forty-nine.
[ 12 ] And so it was again during the Chaldean-Egyptian period. The aura into which one grew up can be compared to the age of an individual between forty-two and thirty-five; in the Greco-Latin period, to the age between thirty-five and twenty-eight. What is remarkable about this Greco-Latin period is that the midpoint of an individual’s life coincides with the midpoint of humanity as a whole—except that humanity flows downstream in the general current, while the individual ascends. Hence the peculiar harmony of Greek education, of which present-day humanity has so little understanding. But when a Greek reached the age of thirty-five, he remained, so to speak, an average person; he always remained thirty-five years old unless he developed something individual within himself that transcended the general aura of humanity. In earlier times, care was taken to ensure that the individual could develop upward.
[ 13 ] Now came the fifth post-Atlantean epoch, in which we live. In this fifth post-Atlantean epoch, humanity will go through a stage of life comparable to the individual life stage between the ages of twenty-eight and twenty-one. This means: a person who merely surrenders to the general flow of existence—to whatever enters the soul simply by virtue of being human—will not grow older than twenty-eight years. Unless they ensure, through spiritual development, that they advance their soul individually, they will remain twenty-eight years old—or rather, they will not progress beyond twenty-seven years. Humanity as a whole can offer us no more than to bring us to the age of twenty-seven. If we do not seek, in our time, to inspire and stimulate the individual powers of the soul that carry us across the current of general human existence, then even if we live to be a hundred years old, we will never be older than twenty-seven. And whether we are manual laborers or professors, or whatever: if we do not seek a spiritual development that gives the soul concepts which outer humanity cannot provide, we will always remain twenty-seven years old. Certainly, outwardly we will grow older, of course; time cannot be stopped; but without its own development, our soul will not attain a maturity beyond that of a twenty-seven-year-old. One truly cannot understand our time unless one takes this peculiarity—which has just been described—into proper consideration. Over the years, I have indeed considered many characteristic questions of our time—questions of life, cultural development, the plight of humanity, and what brings joy to and causes suffering for contemporary humanity: the key to understanding our time is only provided when one takes into account the fact I have just explained. One cannot penetrate what our time lacks unless one takes this into account.
[ 14 ] We encounter philosophies that leave us in awe precisely because they remain stuck at the level of general declarations and show not the slightest ability to delve into concrete realities. Where does this come from? I posed this question to myself in relation to a single individual. There I discovered that the proponent of Eucken’s philosophy is a man who possesses all the passion of someone who cannot grow older than twenty-seven. Certainly, he continues to speak—for he has already reached a considerable age today—he speaks with a somewhat hoarse voice, moves with different gestures, and continues to learn new things. But that means nothing; his entire manner is no older than twenty-seven. One carries this twenty-seven-year-old manner throughout one’s entire life. This becomes particularly noticeable when people are called upon to bring ideas to life, when they are called upon to nurture ideas that govern life.
[ 15 ] Now we’re entering somewhat dangerous territory; but let’s approach this by looking for examples as widely as possible. I have asked various contemporary figures—whose task is to develop ideas that intervene in present-day life, intervening in such a way that current events are to be governed by these ideas—how they are faring. There is one particularly characteristic figure. I have gone to great lengths not to miss the mark in this area, but it is of no use if one does not get to the bottom of things in their concrete manifestations. If one looks for a figure who is such that he can never be older than twenty-seven, who can never have ideas more mature than those of a twenty-seven-year-old, one finds him, strangely enough, as a particularly characteristic figure—for example, in the President of the United States of America. If one studies the various programs he has developed, they bear the distinctive mark of a person who cannot grow older than twenty-seven, because this soul has never absorbed the slightest thing that is not brought to the soul from the outside. Certainly, a person may be more or less gifted. — Such a person may well be considered gifted — but the ideas he develops are, in terms of the maturity of his perspective, their impact, and their practical sense of life, twenty-seven years old and do not grow older, even if the man lives to be a hundred years old, unless he begins to deepen spiritually and infuse his soul with inner fire.
[ 16 ] We live in an age today in which we must guide those who have passed the age of twenty-seven from within their souls. At the age of twenty-seven, people are not yet practical in life; no matter how much they may think they are, they are not practical in life. That is why Wilson’s various ideas are so impractical and erratic, and why they appeal to such a wide audience. They appeal with the same power of appeal that youthful ideas possess—ideas that manifest themselves in all sorts of declamations about the freedom of nations and the like. That’s all very well and good! But that’s how the world is governed today—the demands placed on the impact of ideas are such that one issues a grand declaration on peace, and then unleashes war all the more fiercely!
[ 17 ] One would really like to evoke a sense of what ideas that make an impact on reality are—ideas that have impact, that can become intertwined with reality. Ideas that are mere declamations, beautiful ideas, are, after all, often expressed; young ideas, in particular, are beautiful. But we need ideas that connect people to reality. What kind of wonderful idea is it when someone stands up today and says: “The world must undergo a reorientation!”—So far, the most beautiful thing about this has been the word itself! That is the only beautiful thing: the word itself; for if one stands up and speaks of it, that is certainly very beautiful. It’s also very beautiful to say: “The most capable person must be placed in the right position.” — Wonderfully beautiful ideas! But what if it happens to be the nephew or the son-in-law who is “the most capable”? The beautiful idea accomplishes nothing; what matters is a realistic understanding of reality, the ability to deal with what is real, what truly is.
[ 18 ] This is one of the perspectives that comes into play when one seeks to understand, in a deeper sense, the nature of contemporary culture. This peculiarity of our time makes it all the more evident how necessary it is for people today to deepen their inner lives, to seek—through individual development—to attain for their later years of life that which humanity as a whole no longer provides. It is, of course, easier to speak, in the manner of Eucken, of the renewal of life, of grasping the life forces within, of all sorts of things that can inspire quite a youthful elation, but which are good for nothing more than grandstanding. And when one even devises political programs based on such ideas, as Wilson did, the consequences are incalculable! It is, of course, easier than seeking out reality through serious research and deep contemplation and penetrating the deeper impulses of life.
[ 19 ] If our spiritual science movement is to have any truly profound meaning, it must, above all, possess the will to penetrate the concrete impulses of human development; it must be capable of grasping these great interconnections of life, for otherwise even within our spiritual science everything remains mere theory. And mere theory is worth absolutely nothing, no matter how much one might wish to associate it with feelings of self-importance. Only that which is able to immerse itself in life, that which grasps life, is truly of value. All manner of mysticism, in which people strive to find this or that within themselves, can indeed yield very beautiful results; but we must be able to look beyond ourselves and focus on the great tasks facing humanity, so that above all we may understand what is necessary, what one actually must understand, and what one ought to understand. Otherwise, one will simply overlook the most important aspects of spiritual science. And over the years, ever since we have had our anthroposophically oriented spiritual science, the important aspects of spiritual science have, in fact, been largely ignored.
[ 20 ] If only my dear friends would recall, just once, the answer I have always given for many years whenever I have been asked about reincarnation—given that the human population is constantly growing—if only they would recall the standard response I have been giving for decades: It may be that people will very soon learn what a decimation of humanity could take place, particularly in Europe—then you will understand what was meant when you look back now and recall the tone in which this answer was given. Whenever the growth of the population was discussed, it was always said: A time could very soon come when a decline in the population might occur—even in a painful way! —In the field of spiritual science, it is truly not a matter of catering to the superficial needs of some people with theories, but rather of responding to incidental questions based on the impulses of the times. And when receiving spiritual science, it is far more a matter of grasping the weight of what is to be said and taking it to heart than of satisfying curiosity—no matter how lofty it may seem.
[ 21 ] This, my dear friends, is what I wanted to share with you first as the opening part of these reflections, which—if given due consideration—are intended to lead us directly to an understanding of our times, and which we wish to explore more deeply in the days ahead.
[ 22 ] Since the time allotted for general reflections has run out, perhaps I may—without anyone being able to accuse me of detracting from the actual anthroposophical content—move on to something that must be briefly touched upon once again. However, I cannot move on to this without also remembering some souls who have passed from the physical plane into the spiritual life—souls who were close to many of those sitting here today. It is not possible to mention every single name. Our dear friends are, of course, well aware of the sincerity of our feelings toward all who have passed from the physical plane to the spiritual. I cannot, however, refrain from mentioning by name one man in particular who, after overcoming many obstacles, ultimately found such a beautiful and heartfelt connection with anthroposophically oriented spiritual science, and who, especially in recent times, has made a truly significant and substantial contribution to representing this spiritual science to the outside world. I am referring to our dear friend Ludwig Deinhard, on whose passing from the physical body to the physical elements and the soul’s journey into the spiritual world our dear friend Sellin spoke such beautiful words. He was all the more to be valued because he did not come to our movement out of blind faith or blind devotion, but rather—precisely after facing various forms of resistance—found such a beautiful connection with our movement, and in recent times, which had become increasingly difficult, spared no effort in wholeheartedly advocating for this spiritual movement before the broader public. I do not hesitate to state explicitly that I consider the way in which Ludwig Deinhard championed this movement before the general public to be of particularly great value.
[ 23 ] I would also like to remember Professor Sachs, who passed away just a few days ago and who devoted his entire life to a great idea—a great idea in music technology— and who always knew how to combine the modest work to which an individual can be devoted with far-reaching ideas—and with whom it was truly uplifting to speak, because what he sought as a human being always flowed into a great artistic aspiration. We can count ourselves fortunate to have precisely such people at the heart of our movement.
[ 24 ] After these uplifting perspectives, I am once again compelled—once again compelled—to consider some less uplifting perspectives, because what has transpired has, in a certain sense, forced me to take drastic measures as far as my role in the spiritual science movement, which is to be fostered by the Anthroposophical Society, is concerned. Over time, the anthroposophical movement—which should be a great blessing within the current cultural development—has, through many of its manifestations, more or less developed into a kind of obstacle to what I mean by the spiritual-scientific movement. And it serves no purpose to delude ourselves about these matters; in particular, it serves no purpose when there is a danger that certain things associated with the Anthroposophical Society could become obstacles precisely for anthroposophically oriented spiritual science. Therefore, please allow me—since we have worked together for many years, and such matters may be discussed without reservation—to address these issues quite openly, as they lie close to my heart. One could say: In general, a certain pattern has become customary within the Anthroposophical Society that must not continue in this way, because the judgments of the present-day world regarding what anthroposophy or spiritual science aims to achieve would be all too clouded if things were to continue in the same manner as they have up to now.
[ 25 ] Let’s start with one specific point: It is often said in the outside world—and this has already become common practice—that I am actually attacked less for matters related to spiritual science, but much more for issues connected with the Society. In particular, one of the accusations leveled against me is that a blind faith in authority prevails within the Society, that there is blind adherence, that much is done here out of pure devotion, and so on. If I may, however, offer my own impression in response, I must say: In most cases, what actually happens is the very last thing I consider to be right, the very last thing I consider to be desirable. I do not believe that in any other society so little regard is given to what might actually be the specific wishes of any individual active within it. Even if it appears otherwise, that is how it is. However, no one should take offense at this. And to turn a blind eye, to bury one’s head in the sand—that is simply wrong.
[ 26 ] My dear friends, I have heard various things about the mood within the local Anthroposophical Society these past few days. I came here this evening, here to the foyer, and was met by the most pious scent of incense. Do not think that someone who focuses on the objective, the inner reality, has any particular desire to have his speaking made difficult all evening by the use of this outward expression of the pious scent of incense, and that they must go home with a headache because of the pious scent of incense—not to mention how the truth is misunderstood when the scent of incense—forgive me—wafts out into the profane world. It may indeed be unpleasant to mention such things specifically, but such things are nonetheless symptomatic. Ask around and see if I have ever taken the initiative regarding anything so superficial. But that’s just an aside.
[ 27 ] But what is most important to me is the way in which the membership feels connected to what is unfolding as spiritual life through the anthroposophically oriented spiritual science movement. You see, as you know, a wide variety of attacks—some already published, others still in the process of being published—have recently come to public attention. When objections to spiritual science arise from the external world of today, there is no need to be surprised by them, nor is there any need to find them particularly distressing; this is only natural, only to be expected. Such challenges can certainly be met. Spiritual Science truly has no reason to shy away from objective discussions. Nor, perhaps, should we shy away from what is currently stirring up among the membership. But the following does immense harm to what is actually supposed to be the strength of our movement: It must be said that what stands out above all else in this movement, in this Society, is that the most benevolent intentions and measures, the most benevolent rules of conduct toward the members, are precisely here most often steeped in venom and bile and also cloaked in slander, denigration, and the most personal of attacks—all of which point in a very familiar direction. The things that are done—perhaps out of some mystical need; I do not know—based on pure fabrications, on pure untruths, are actually so easy to find nowhere else. But the will to respond correctly to these things is not cultivated vigorously enough. Indeed, the will to view things truly impartially is also not pursued with sufficient vigor.
[ 28 ] The seriousness inherent in the spiritual science movement—the particular way in which it must be represented—should at least be studied. What the individual can do naturally depends on life circumstances and a wide variety of factors; but one should still study what is, and not give in to all sorts of delusions. Objectivity and impersonality are, after all, particularly necessary within our movement, which is devoted purely to spiritual matters, and nothing is more harmful than when highly personal interests, vanity, and ambition are brought into the ranks of our movement. Certainly, things appear embellished and masked, but one should look at the true face of things, should view them in such a way as to arrive at the truth of the matter. If someone composes a series of attacks and knows full well what lies behind them—knows full well that precisely what they are attacking must be as it is, due to the unique character of spiritual science—then it is not enough to refute them sentence by sentence. Much can be asserted and refuted—namely, everything—but often what matters is not what is said: the reasons lie in something entirely different. If someone submits a manuscript to the Philosophisch-Anthroposophischer Verlag and it must be rejected, and the person in question then becomes an enemy, the causes are to be found elsewhere than in the sentences that person crafts. And one does not discover the truth when the most important things—the actual reasons—are pushed into the background.
[ 29 ] If someone concocts this or that attack based on all sorts of foolish esoteric notions—whose absurdity is obvious to anyone who isn’t blind—then one is also mistaken if one does not trace such things, which are pure fabrications, back to the full context. Perhaps there is a person behind this who once lived in a small town in central Germany and suddenly had the idea of becoming a great man. At first, he sought to become a great man in a small way; he wrote to Dr. Steiner asking what he should do to free himself from the confines of small-town life. Should he marry into a business, or achieve this in some other way? When he was then told that we do not concern ourselves with deciding whether one should marry into a business or not, he might still not be deterred. He makes progress, gains ground, takes part in various activities, and perhaps even steps before the company at a large gathering, reciting a Schiller poem with tremendous lung power, even though he doesn’t have the slightest clue about recitation. He is laughed at. This offends his ambition. Then he wants to become a great painter. The idea is even taken up to a certain extent. Everything is done to support the person in question so that he can learn something; accommodations are made for him. Yet the person in question wants to become an artist but finds it inconvenient to learn anything. He doesn’t actually want to become an artist—he simply wants to be one—and when the others, out of their deepest conviction, can do nothing but advise him to learn something, he finds it insulting. After all, one is a genius, and they expect one to learn something first! They do everything they can to help him learn something, but that is precisely what is offensive.
[ 30 ] Well, there are many other examples that could be cited along these lines. These are the real reasons why one must become an enemy of such a despicable society. Then all sorts of things get written. What is written doesn’t really matter. Of course, something else could just as easily be written, because the real reasons are to be found elsewhere entirely. And so it can go on, and will go on, taking on entirely different dimensions. All these things, however, have not the slightest connection to spiritual science as such. But they can develop with great intensity out of a society that attempts to build itself not on the objective foundation provided by spiritual science as such, but rather seeks within it all sorts of clique-like structures and all sorts of personal social relationships. You see, I am merely hinting at one thing or another. Perhaps I will be able to say one thing or another in the coming days. But none of this really stems from spiritual science; rather, it stems from the prevailing view of what should happen in society. Precisely those for whom the greatest care has been taken are among those who are now peddling slander and pure fabrications the most.
[ 31 ] That is why I am compelled, my dear friends, to resort to drastic measures. I ask you, at the very least, to always mention both parts of these measures, so that slander does not arise again by only disclosing one part. If this measure is harsh for some, then please bear in mind that it is just as hard for me as it is for those affected by it, that I am just as sorry that it is necessary, and that you should not turn to me, but to those who caused these measures. Look there for the reasons, but also look there to discern what must happen in the future by directing your attention to the source of the slander. This is often what plays out as a personal matter. Certainly, I have stood by everyone with personal counsel: for esoteric matters, this personal discussion was very often quite unnecessary, and as far as the esoteric is concerned, I will ensure that a suitable alternative is available. But because personal matters have led to this, it is necessary that in the future everything take place in the full light of public scrutiny. I will ensure that everyone can exercise their esoteric rights; but I will no longer receive anyone from the Society for so-called private esoteric discussions. I must discontinue these private visits without exception, so that slander cannot be derived specifically from these private visits. If this is difficult for one or the other, this measure must nevertheless be taken for two specific reasons: first, because these very things are not necessary for the functioning of esoteric life. I will prove this very soon. In a short time, you will have a complete replacement, even though the private discussions must be discontinued—discussions that often took place in such a way that members brought up matters that had nothing to do with esoteric life. Second, because by doing so I am demonstrating how unfounded the claim is that the esoteric life of one person or another has not been provided for. Just read “How Does One Attain Insights into the Higher Worlds?” No one needs to receive a specific personal impulse after a certain amount of time. The second point regarding this measure—and one I ask you not to forget—is that I release everyone who has had private discussions up to now from any promise—which, in any case, was never made—or any custom of not speaking about such private discussions. As far as I’m concerned, anyone can share as much as they want about what I’ve discussed with anyone, because I have nothing to hide. Anyone who wishes to can tell everyone everything. Even the past can be brought into the full light of public scrutiny. This will best enable us to distinguish falsehood from truth and to determine the extent to which falsehoods are being spread within our movement. But these two measures go hand in hand. I repeat once again that anyone who reports only the first part will not present the matter in its true light; the other part is just as essential.
[ 32 ] I would also like to mention, my dear friends: If this proves difficult for some of you, then please turn to those places that you can easily find here, and turn to those who have made these things necessary. It is unacceptable that what the spiritual science movement is meant to be for the world should be rendered impossible by the clique mentality within the Anthroposophical Society, for this is precisely what exposes the very lifeblood of spiritual science to the greatest misunderstandings from the outside world. Do you believe that the things which must be undertaken in the spirit of the Society are undertaken for my personal satisfaction? I have been accused of withholding something from the Society in one way or another—for example, because the Dornach building project had to be undertaken. Do you believe that I could care more personally about the Dornach building than any other member who is serious about our cause, or that I had any personal aspirations regarding this project? Had the construction not been possible, I would have been the very last person to refuse to accept its necessity. That anything which must be advocated—even something as important as the Dornach construction—should be advocated differently than it must be for intrinsic reasons—that must never happen.
[ 33 ] The drastic measures just mentioned must finally be taken, particularly because, even though I have spoken at length about various issues for decades, the seriousness of my words has never been fully appreciated. Perhaps this seriousness will be recognized now that this measure is being introduced. After all, there are other societies that do not lead to the same problems that have occurred in this particular society.
[ 34 ] This, my dear friends, had to be said precisely because of our friendship; it must not go unsaid. Anyone who is serious about the anthroposophical movement will find a way, even if the gravity of the situation makes such measures necessary. For the movement as such is too sacred to be allowed to be extinguished by all manner of personal aspirations, and indeed, enough has already happened in this direction. Those of our dear members—and there are indeed many such people—who work in the movement and in the Society with devotion and self-sacrifice will be the last to complain about these measures; they will find them to be of the utmost importance. I do not believe that I will be misunderstood by those who are truly serious and sincere about our movement; they will agree with me. There will also be those who disagree with me; I gladly accept this disagreement.
[ 35 ] Time has moved on. Tomorrow I will continue the reflections I have been making today, and perhaps add a few more comments on what I said last time about various matters in society. It has often been quite hard to watch what some people have been doing.
