The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Eighth Lecture

[ 1 ] You will have gathered from yesterday’s reflections that, in the present day, one must become increasingly familiar with the contrast between abstract, purely intellectual thinking and thinking grounded in reality—that is, immersing one’s thinking in reality. When it comes to our thinking, we naturally always strive for a certain consistency. But the world is full of contradictions, so that if we truly want to grasp reality, we cannot simply cast a general mental template—like a net—over everything in order to understand it. We must individualize; we must address each case on its own merits. This is the greatest shortcoming and also the greatest harm of our time: that people are virtually lost in abstraction. In doing so, they distance themselves from true reality.

[ 2 ] But now comes the application of this concept to reality itself. Please, keep this in mind! I must now say something strange: I must apply unreal thinking to reality, for, of course, unreal thinking is also part of reality. And so, gradually, through this unreal thinking—which has developed over the course of the last three to four centuries—and through the integration of this unreal way of thinking into reality, an unreal structure has emerged within human coexistence itself—a structure that is inherently and continuously contradictory. One might say that, in relation to nature, humanity has it good, for no matter how wrongly it may think—nature does not conform to it. And so—forgive the paradoxical expression—if humanity seeks to confront nature with rigid, abstract thinking, it becomes like a billy goat that constantly butts its horns against reality. We see this, after all, in many so-called worldviews, which clash with reality with their horn-like projections. These worldviews are sometimes just as stubborn as the goats themselves.

[ 3 ] But it is a different matter when it comes to social and political coexistence. There, human thought flows through each individual into the social structure. There, one does not come up against a reality that tolerates nothing, but rather, one shapes reality. And even if this takes a few centuries, reality will eventually take that form; that is, it plays itself out through contradictions. True reality manifests itself in structures that do not possess the power of reality within themselves and then discharge themselves in cataclysms such as the current catastrophe of war.

[ 4 ] Here you have the connection between human spiritual life in an earlier time and external physical events in a somewhat later time. For it is always the case that what manifests on the physical plane first exists spiritually, and—with regard to human beings—first exists spiritually, first in human thoughts and only then in human actions. And so, if we are willing to observe the present—as it reveals itself to us in its true, that is, in this case, untrue form—for the untrue form is its true form—we can see how abstraction has become embedded in reality. People often view reality abstractly. They view it in the same way as someone who watches the conjurer mentioned yesterday and looks at the weights that have no weight, but toward which the conjurer behaves as if they weighed many kilograms.

[ 5 ] The most significant characteristic of many contemporary concepts is their poverty. People today—as I have often emphasized—are complacent; they want concepts that are as straightforward as possible. But this also makes these concepts terribly impoverished. Indeed, such impoverished concepts are of little use when confronting that superficial nature—or that surface of nature—which, despite all progress, is the only thing the present day takes into account. Even though such magnificent insights into natural phenomena have come to light in recent times—the concepts used to understand these phenomena remain relatively impoverished. But this longing for impoverished concepts, for concepts of meager content, has also spread to all worldviews. Thus, we see philosophers emerging today who have a veritable longing for meager concepts. Time and again, the most meager concepts—that is, those with the least substance—are bandied about. These concepts are sometimes quite ambitious, but they are not filled with substantial content. Our contemporary philosophy is, after all, particularly rich in such concepts as the “eternal,” the “infinite,” “unity,” the “significant” as opposed to the insignificant, the “general,” the “individual,” and so on. People are particularly fond of dealing with such concepts—concepts that are as abstract as possible.

[ 6 ] This leads to a peculiar relationship between people and reality. They cease to see the vibrant substance of reality and also lose the sense, the feeling, of what they actually experience in relation to reality. One need only observe the present moment for these things; then one finds them everywhere.

[ 7 ] I would like to present to you a phenomenon that is downright alarming: A contemporary philosopher has spoken out about how one could hold an opinion on whether this war should continue for a longer or shorter period of time. Isn’t that right? It’s a question of great importance today in the most profound sense, but one that must be decided using substantive, real, and vital concepts—not with general abstractions about the world and temporality, the universal and the individual, and so on. Such general philosophical musings are of no use whatsoever in resolving such concrete questions. The philosopher in question has concluded, as so many do: It does no harm for the war to continue as long as possible, provided that—as they say—a lasting peace is achieved, provided that paradise on earth is thereby established. — I have compared this to the idea that the best way to ensure no more dishes are broken in a household is to break them all first. That is roughly the conclusion of those who say: War must be continued until there is a prospect that the peace will be a lasting one. — The philosopher in question has thus applied his philosophy to this question—his philosophy, which, in his view, deals with the highest, that is, in our time, the most abstract concepts. What did he say? Well, just imagine—he said: What does it ultimately matter, in the face of eternity, in which a satisfactory state for humanity will be established, if a few metric tons more or less of organic matter perish on the battlefields! What are a few metric tons of organic matter compared to eternal life, to the development of humanity!

[ 8 ] This is the kind of achievement abstract thinking can produce when it engages with reality. Today, one must first draw people’s attention to how horrifying such a thing is if they are to feel it. And one cannot help but be amazed time and again that these things actually pass humanity by without it giving them much thought. Of course, such a thought is essentially derived from the present-day quest for a worldview. For what has this quest for a worldview actually achieved? Precisely the most abstract concepts; yet these are applicable only to the inanimate, to the mineral, to the inorganic. Now, when the philosopher comes along and applies what is applicable only to the inanimate—not only to the living, but even to the spiritual and soul-life—it is only natural that he arrives at such conclusions. For when dealing with the inanimate, a person must constantly act according to the principle: What, after all, are so-and-so many hundredweight of substance compared to what one makes of the matter? — One could not build if one were obliged to assert a right of possession over every dead stone; of course, one could not. But one must not apply to human life what applies only to the inorganic, to the lifeless. And the concepts that natural science has developed today apply only to the inorganic, to the lifeless. Yet today this is constantly being applied; we just don’t notice it. And such judgments—which repeatedly suggest that this war should not come to an end until the prospect already described is in place—such judgments imply nothing other than what the philosopher has expressed only in a brutal, yet—as it seems to him—extraordinarily sublime manner of speech; except that the others are ashamed to speak as the philosopher does, because the philosopher conceals the brutality behind the beauty of his words. Of course, he says all sorts of very sublime things as he juggles with the concepts of eternity and temporality, eternal human becoming, the transitory temporal existence of so many metric tons of organic substance—but without regard for the fact that eternity and infinity live within every single human being, and that every single human being is worth as much as the entire inorganic world put together!

[ 9 ] The things that have just been discussed also underlie the artistic forms that seek to unfold here on this hill. For art, too, has gradually come to embrace what I would call a weightless, formless worldview. Our worldview must once again draw closer to the essence of things. One can only approach the essence of things by approaching the spirit. Therefore, we must have forms different from those that appear everywhere in art today. In other words, our time must once again receive something creative that springs from the spirit. Of course, this is uncomfortable for many people today. But just consider to what great extent our entire worldview has gradually become entangled in the dead, by dealing exclusively with the dead. Take a look at the buildings, and finally at the other “works of art” of the 19th century: what are they, after all, but a constant rehashing of old architectural styles and the like? People built in the classical, Renaissance, and Gothic styles—that is, always in something that had died out. They have not yet come to grasp what is immediately alive. We must return to that. This will give rise to an entirely new spirit. To achieve this, certain sacrifices are already necessary, and they must be made in abundance. But something like the house standing out there—which has been created from concrete itself using new forms—is pioneering work. And it is not merely the fact that these forms were conceived that matters, but the fact that the possibility has been brought about to bring such a thing into the world in the first place. One must consider these things in all their significance; otherwise, one will not understand what is to be created here on this hill. By the very nature of the matter, what is created on this hill must stand in contradiction and conflict with what is being created in the rest of the world today.

[ 10 ] Understanding the Present — my dear friends, this phrase has indeed run like a common thread through everything I have spoken to you about since my return. But one must be willing to endure the inconvenience and expend a great deal of energy: intellectual power, emotional power, and the will to experiment—in order to understand the present; and one must have the courage to truly break with many things that carry over from the old era. For, when it comes down to it, those people whom we consider the most enlightened today often work with nothing but old concepts, without really knowing how to apply them properly.

[ 11 ] Let me give you an example of this as well: For some time now, you could certainly find a book discussed everywhere here in Switzerland—and see it prominently displayed in store windows, in particular—that has made a profound impression on the present day. I like to discuss precisely such things—not those coming from hostile quarters, but rather from friendly ones—so that no one might think that any personal bias is at play here. The Nordic writer Kjellén—he was and is, after all, among the few who have taken an interest in my writings and spoken favorably of them. Therefore, it will not be taken as a personal matter if I offer the characterization of the book *The State as a Form of Life*, which has made such a strong impression, that I feel compelled to give according to my own understanding.

[ 12 ] This book is a prime example of the misguided concepts of our time. It attempts to conceive of the state as an organism. This is one of those endeavors that people today engage in when they try to grasp something that should actually be understood intellectually through the lens of contemporary ideas. And it is good that one can refer to a witty, highly learned, and profound man—whom one cannot praise highly enough—when one wishes to cast the completely misguided idea underlying his book in the proper light. Yes, one constantly encounters such contradictions. But life is, after all, full of contradictions. One must not strive for abstract consistency if one wishes to grasp life; one must not immediately regard everyone one wishes to oppose as a fool, but one can also regard someone one wishes to oppose as a very witty, thorough scholar, as is the case here, of which I am now speaking.

[ 13 ] Kjellén is actually doing something similar to what Schäffle—the Swabian—did decades ago; I’m not sure whether I should call him a Swabian scholar or an Austrian minister, since he was both. Even back then, Schäffle made a comprehensive attempt to conceive of the state as an organism and individual human beings as the cells of that organism. Hermann Bahr, whom I have mentioned to you on several occasions, wrote a refutation of Schäffle’s book on organic effectiveness in the state. When Schäffle then wrote a book titled *The Hopelessness of Social Democracy*, Hermann Bahr wrote a refutation of that book and titled his refutation *The Lack of Insight of Mr. Schäffle*. It is a witty little book by Hermann Bahr. Hermann Bahr himself recently referred to it as “impertinent” in a lecture he gave. Well, nevertheless, it remains a very witty little book from Hermann Bahr’s youth, this little book *The Lack of Insight of Mr. Schäffle*.

[ 14 ] So Schäffle was already doing something similar back then to what Kjellén is doing now. Kjellén, in turn, seeks to portray it as if every state were an organism, with the individual people within it as the cells. We know all sorts of things about the functioning of cells in an organism, about the laws that govern it, and we can neatly apply that to the state. People like to use such comparisons in areas they cannot intellectually master. Well, methodologically speaking, you can compare anything to anything. If you like, I can quite easily construct a little “science” for you based on a comparison between a swarm of locusts and a double bass. One can compare anything to anything in the world, and something can come of any comparison. But the fact that one can make a comparison is by no means a guarantee that one lives in reality through such comparisons. Precisely when one makes comparisons, one must have a keen sense of reality; otherwise, the comparison will never hold true. For when one makes a comparison, one very quickly finds oneself in the same situation as some people face in their youth—forgive me—: one immediately falls in love with one’s comparison, just as some people immediately fall in love with another person. Comparisons that come to mind or that are even lying right there on the street—such as the one between the state and an organism—have the disadvantage that one immediately falls in love with the idea. But falling in love with such a comparison has a consequence. It has the consequence that one becomes blind to everything that speaks against the idea one then puts forward based on the comparison.

[ 15 ] So I must say: When I had finished reading Kjellén’s book, it had already struck me—from the standpoint of realistic thinking—that this book was written right in the midst of the war. Writing this book about the state as an organism—that already struck me as quite unrealistic, because after all, anyone who looks around a bit knows—even if the words don’t always capture it accurately—that wars are waged in such a way that when states clash, one piece ends up here or there, that pieces are cut off from states and moved here or there. After all, at least for a great many people, that is what matters in war.

[ 16 ] Yes, if one were to compare states to organisms, one would have to at least extend the comparison to the point where one could always cut off pieces of the organism and assign them to the neighboring organism. But such things—which one ought to notice—go unnoticed when one has become enamored with one’s own comparison. One could cite many other examples. I could cite many examples for such a comparison, which would probably put you in the merriest of moods, prompting you to laugh heartily and not at all consider the man in question to be as witty as I myself do. I truly consider him to be very witty and very profound.

[ 17 ] Where does something like this come from—that someone can be learned and insightful and yet build an entire system on a completely flawed comparison? Yes, you see, it comes from the fact that the comparison Kjellén makes is a valid one. Now you’ll say that you no longer know what to make of what I’m telling you: first I explain that the comparison is completely flawed, and now I explain that the comparison is a valid one. Well, when I say that the comparison is a valid one, I mean that the comparison can certainly be made; the only question is what one is comparing it to. When you make a comparison, it always involves two things, as in Kjellén’s case: the state and the organism. One of the two must always be correct in and of itself. The state is there on one side, and the organism is there on the other. Both cannot be wrong; it is only the act of bringing them together that is wrong. The point is that one can indeed compare what happens on Earth to an organism. One can compare political events on Earth to an organism; one simply must not compare the state to an organism. If one compares the state to an organism in which individual human beings are cells, the result is utter nonsense. That is simply nonsense, because it leads nowhere. But one can compare the political and social life of the Earth to an organism; one must then, however, compare the entire Earth to an organism. As soon as one compares the entire Earth—that is, human activity across the entire Earth—to an organism, and the individual states—not the people, but the individual states—to cells of various shapes, then the comparison is correct; then it is a valid comparison.

[ 18 ] If you take this comparison as a basis and now consider the mutual relationship between the states themselves, you end up with something that behaves much like the cells of the various systems within an organism. So, when choosing a comparison, it is important to apply it correctly. The mistake made by Kjellén—and one that Schäffle also made—is that the individual state, which can only be compared to a single cell, a fully developed cell, is compared to the entire organism, whereas life across the entire Earth is comparable to a single organism. This brings us to the fruitful aspect of this comparison. After all, cells that simply drift past one another like people in a state—that does not exist in an organism. Cells come into contact with one another; they border one another. So it is with individual states: they are cells within the overall organism of life on Earth.

[ 19 ] My dear friends, you may feel that something is missing from the argument I have just presented. If, in a certain justified way—for such a thing is indeed justified—your philistine, pedantic sensibility stirs in your heart while I speak here, you will say: I ought to prove to you that one must compare the life of the entire Earth to an organism and the individual state to a cell. — Well, the proof lies in the conception, the proof lies in carrying out the idea; the proof does not lie in the abstract considerations one can usually make, but in the fact that you now carry out the idea. If you carry it out in the Kjellén sense, then you will find everywhere that it cannot be carried out. You must lock horns; you must become a billy goat, otherwise you cannot carry it out. But if you apply the idea to the life of the entire Earth, then the concept is valid; then you will arrive at very fruitful insights; then it will serve as a very good regulative principle for you. You will understand a great deal, and you will understand even more than what I have already hinted at.

[ 20 ] People today are, in a sense, abstract beings, and one might say: Out of a dozen, you’ll find thirteen—well, that’s not possible, but given the actual circumstances today, it would almost be true—out of a dozen, you’ll find thirteen who, in such a case, where Kjellén compares the individual state to an organism and is countered here with the argument that: “Political and social life across the entire globe is, in truth, comparable to an organism”—that these thirteen out of the dozen today will hold the view that this comparison must apply throughout all ages. For if someone formulates a theory of the state today, that theory must apply not only to the present but also to the Romans, even to the Egyptians and the Babylonians; for a state is a state. Today, one proceeds from concepts, not from reality.

[ 21 ] But that’s not how it is—it really isn’t. Humanity is undergoing a process of development in this regard as well. And what I have just said about the validity of the comparison actually applies only to the period since the 16th century, because before the 16th century, the Earth was not a politically cohesive whole; that is to say, it was only from that time onward that it began to develop into a coherent political whole. America, the Western Hemisphere, was not at all a place for political life that was internally coherent. And so, by making this comparison in the right way, you immediately gain insight into that significant turning point that exists between the newer way of life and the old way of life. If one arrives at insights that correspond to reality, then these insights are always fruitful, whereas concepts that do not correspond to reality are sterile and unproductive. Every insight that corresponds to reality takes one further. One experiences even more through it than it contains itself; it carries one through reality. That is the important point; one must definitely bear this in mind. For abstract concepts are such that we grasp them; but out there is reality, which pays no attention whatsoever to this abstract concept. If one grasps a concept that corresponds to reality, then within that concept one has the whole inner, vibrant life that also exists out there—the life that churns through and interweaves with reality. This is uncomfortable for people today. They would prefer concepts that are as colorless and calm as possible. They fear getting dizzy if their concepts possess inner life. But these concepts, which are lifeless within, have the disadvantage that reality all around us can unfold before our eyes without us actually seeing what is most essential about that reality. For reality, too, is full of concepts, full of ideas. What I said here a few days ago is true: that elemental life flows out there, and that this elemental life is interwoven with concepts and ideas—that is true. But abstract concepts are merely conceptual corpses, as I have said. And then it can happen, when one loves only conceptual corpses, that one speaks and thinks within these conceptual corpses, while reality draws entirely different conclusions; it allows entirely different events to unfold than those into which our concepts can enter.

[ 22 ] For three years now, we have been witnessing terrible events that could teach every person a great deal; one must simply follow them while staying alert, not asleep. It is actually admirable—in a negative sense—how many people remain asleep in the face of these terrible events of the present, still having failed to consider that events unprecedented in the history of human development also demand that we arrive at new concepts that have never existed before. Reality, however, judges otherwise. Let me—I would say—express what I actually mean more precisely, symbolically. One could certainly say that some people have, in fact, been anticipating this war for years. In general, it can be said that, with the exception of certain circles of the Anglo-American population, the world was, in a certain sense, taken by surprise by this war. But still, individual people had formed ideas that the war would come—albeit sometimes quite strange ideas. One idea in particular could be found time and again—an idea that originated with profound—and I really don’t mean this ironically; I’m speaking in all seriousness—economists and political scientists, based on a careful abstraction from this or that set of events. These people engaged in a great deal of scientific work, combining and abstracting, made all sorts of syntheses, and then arrived at a notion that was encountered time and again for a very long time—even at the outbreak of the war, when it was repeated particularly often—namely, the notion that, given the current state of world affairs and the economic and commercial interrelationships, this war could not possibly last longer than four to six months. It was rigorously proven—a rigorously proven truth. And the reasons cited were certainly not foolish; they were quite sound reasons.

[ 23 ] Yes, but reality—well, how does it relate to all that web of reasoning that the clever economists have woven together? How does reality relate to it? Well, you can see for yourself how reality relates to it! But what, then, is at stake if this is the case? It is a matter of drawing the consequences from such a situation—the real consequences. Then this war will serve as a lesson, if we draw those consequences. What can the only consequence possibly be of what I have symbolically alluded to? For I have cited only one extreme case; I could cite numerous other, similar views that have likewise—to put it mildly—run aground against the reality of the events of the last three years. What can the only real consequence be? That we cast overboard everything from which we drew such conclusions, that we say to ourselves: “So we have been thinking in a way that does not correspond to reality; we have developed a system of thought and allowed this abstract, unrealistic system to permeate reality itself, so that reality has become untrue; therefore, we must first break with the very premises that underlay such supposed insight, which in fact destroys reality!”

[ 24 ] What I am about to say can certainly be conveyed to people today in a forceful manner. Whether it will be received with the same intensity, however, is another question. For just as ingenious as the argument put forward by national politicians—that the war might last four to six months—was the reasoning—truly ingenious, and I mean this without irony—that the enlightened medical council advanced at the time of the construction of the first railroad in Central Europe, based on the medical science of that era. They said at the time—not a single contrarian, but an enlightened council—and I have cited this often—that one should not build railroads, because the human nervous system could not withstand them. This is a written document from the year 1838. So it was not long ago that the verdict was handed down that railroads should under no circumstances be built; but if there were to be people—as this document states—who wanted to have railroads built, then at least high wooden walls would have to be erected on both sides so that the farmers would not see the trains passing by and thereby suffer a concussion. — Yes, people laugh at such things when it turns out later how reality flies in the face of such supposed reasons. People laugh afterward. But certain elemental spirits laugh at the same time; indeed, they were already laughing at human follies even before such scientific endeavors were undertaken.

[ 25 ] Let us break with whatever has led to this contradiction! The contradiction is a real fact; it truly exists, for life across the earth over the past three years has been a contradiction come to pass. We must therefore adopt different views of what is happening than we have held before. A radical revision of our views—that is what the times demand of us. It is even difficult, once one has begun such a line of thought, to carry it through to its complete conclusion in the present, for humanity today is not free-thinking enough to allow these thoughts to run their course. Anyone with a sense of reality—of the actual events unfolding around us—can see in the reality outside that these consequences are already being drawn there. It is only into people’s minds that they have not yet entered. In this regard, there is a tremendous contrast between the West and the East. Last year I spoke to you about the fundamental contrast between the West and the East from a wide variety of perspectives; for example, I drew your attention to how the West discusses the issue of birth and the demand for human rights. Consider Western worldviews: origin, birth—these are the primary scientific concepts that prevail there. This is why the theory of origin, Darwin’s theory, arose in the West. One could also say that the theory of birth and heredity—in the philosophical and practical spheres—is the concept of human rights.

[ 26 ] In the little-known East, in Russian life, we find reflections on death, on the spiritual goals of human life—read Soloviev, who can now be read with ease—as well as on the concept of guilt and the concept of sin in the ethical-practical realm. Yes, such contrasts exist in most areas. And one cannot grasp reality, the actual state of affairs, unless one is able to properly take such contrasts into account. Emotions, sympathies, and antipathies prevent people from truly taking the relevant issues into account. When these emotions, sympathies, and antipathies are stirred up, people certainly do not allow reality to get close to them; just as conflicting ideas cannot reach someone who has become enamored with a particular perspective, because people regard what they love as absolute truth and cannot even conceive that the opposite—viewed from a different angle—might also be true.

[ 27 ] Let us consider the West, specifically the Anglo-American West, since the others are largely just parroting what is said. What is the overarching perspective there—often referred to as “ideals”—specifically in Wilsonianism? What is the overarching perspective there? The overarching perspective is that the entire world should become what these nations have been over the past few centuries. These nations have developed ideal social conditions—people give them various names, such as “democracy” and the like—and other nations bear the great blame for not having developed such conditions! It will be right when the whole world adopts these conditions. That is the Anglo-American view: what we have developed, what we have become, gives the great and small nations their right, places them in the proper order, and makes people happy within the sphere of the state. That is how it must be everywhere. We hear it proclaimed; it is the gospel of the West. No one even considers that such things always have only relative significance, that they stem above all from emotions, not—as is commonly believed—from mere reason and mere intellect.

[ 28 ] Of course, one must not take these words too literally, for such literal interpretation already leads to many misunderstandings today. One might, for example, believe that I intended to target the American people or the Anglo-American race when I speak of Wilsonianism or Lloyd-Georgeanism. But that is by no means the case. I deliberately say “Wilsonianism” because it refers to something quite specific. But I am far from intending to imply something for which you could simply use the term “Americanism.” Here, once again, one must take a rather hard look at reality. Some of the tirades that have come from Mr. Wilson recently did not even originate on American soil. One cannot even give Wilson the credit that his tirades are entirely original. They are, after all, worthless; they are untrue; but they are not even entirely original. For there is the curious fact that a Berlin writer has penned witty articles—just not articles that align with the German worldview—articles that were “Wilsonianism without Wilson,” very astute articles. These articles have made a splash—though not exactly in Germany, but in the U.S. Congress—for they have been collected, and you will find them bound throughout many pages in the records of the U.S. Congress; they were, in fact, read aloud during the proceedings of the U.S. Congress, and many of Mr. Wilson’s more recent tirades have been taken from these pages. Much of what Mr. Wilson concocts against Central Europe has this origin. So it is not even original. It will, at any rate, be a quite interesting and humorous fact for future historians when they find in the records of the proceedings of the U.S. Congress: The gentlemen refrained for a time from presenting their own enlightened ideas and instead read aloud the articles of a Berlin writer, which were then bound into the congressional records and labeled “U.S. Congressional Records.”

[ 29 ] But what interests us most of all is why people liked these articles. Well, because they express precisely the idea that one can feel quite at ease in the chair one has been sitting in for centuries, and can now tell the world: If you all sit in chairs like these, then everything will be fine. — That is the West.

[ 30 ] The East—Russia—has also drawn a conclusion—not a conceptual one; conceptually, people there have not yet reached the point where their reality lies. They have drawn a different conclusion. It never even occurred to them to say: “What we have been doing for centuries must now become the salvation of the whole world.” We want everyone to become the way we used to be.”—One could certainly have found a beautiful phrase to describe what has been happening in Russia for centuries, for beautiful phrases can be found for everything; beautiful phrases can be found even when reality is as gruesome as can be. Today, if you pay for it with American money, it costs so-and-so many dollars; then you can reinterpret very, very sweet ideals as ethical ideals. But that’s not what happened in the East; there, a real conclusion was drawn. There, they didn’t say: The world must now adopt what we had. There, they said something else; there, they truly concluded that the conditions weren’t right—and therefore set something in motion, which, admittedly, is still far from what it will one day be. But that doesn’t matter; I don’t want to pass judgment on one side or the other in any way—I just want to point out the great contrast. If you take this contrast into account, you will see a colossal picture of reality unfolding before you: between the West, which swears by everything concerning its past, and the East, which has broken with everything that was its past.

[ 31 ] If you consider this, then you are not so far removed from the real causes of the current global conflict; and then you will not be so far removed from what I pointed out here some time ago: The war is actually taking place between the West and the East. Whatever lies in the middle is simply crushed; simply because the West and the East are not in agreement, it must suffer from the discord between the West and the East.

[ 32 ] But does anyone today even want to focus their attention on something so colossal? Did that March of 1917 really shed light on the great contrast between the West and the East? Last year, this blackboard displayed what belongs to the West and what belongs to the East in terms of worldview! World history has been teaching us this since March of this year. And people must learn and must come to understand; otherwise, even more difficult times will come. It is not a matter of knowing this or that in the abstract, but primarily of demanding everywhere a change of course, an effort, the overcoming of complacent indolence, and seeing what is right within a spiritual worldview. And in the pursuit of spiritual science, one must seek energy, not merely satisfaction, so as to say: “How lovely that was again; I am so truly satisfied!”—and to float in a cloud-cuckoo-land, so that one gradually falls asleep in the satisfaction derived from the harmony of the world and from universal love for humanity. This was particularly evident within that social movement led by Mrs. Besant. Many of you will still recall the numerous protests I raised against all that noble drivel that could be found precisely within the Theosophical Society. Lofty ideals of wondrous drivel were, after all, peddled in an international-liberal vein. Universal brotherhood, universal love of humanity: that was the refrain everywhere. It was impossible to go along with that. We sought real, concrete knowledge about the workings of the world. And you will recall the comparison I often used, that this sweet-sounding talk of universal love of humanity strikes me as if someone were constantly lecturing a stove, which is supposed to heat the room: “Dear stove, it is your universal duty as a stove to warm the room; so warm the room.” — That is how all those male and female “aunts” struck me at the time, who expressed the essence of theosophy in this babbling about universal love of humanity. I said back then: You simply have to put coal in the stoves, bring in wood, and light it. And so, when dealing with a spiritual movement, one must introduce real, concrete concepts into that movement; otherwise, one will go on murmuring about universal love for years on end. This “universal love” was, after all, shown in a particularly charming light by the leader of the Theosophical Movement, Mrs. Besant.

[ 33 ] Of course, it is more uncomfortable to engage with reality than to talk in general terms about the harmony of the world, about the harmony of the individual soul with the whole world, and about the harmony found in universal love for humanity. But anthroposophy is not meant to lull people to sleep, but to awaken them—to truly awaken them. We live in a time that demands that people awaken.