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The Social Question as a Question of Consciousness
GA 189

1 March 1919, Dornach

Lecture IV

In what we have here been considering I have shown how in the course of man's evolution something very different may be going on in the unconscious depths of his soul from what appears more on the surface. A man may think he is striving for this or that, whereas in reality in his innermost soul there hold sway impulses directed to quite different aims. This truth is particularly significant in our time. We see today a whole class of men setting their wills in a certain direction. But just here we may have the experience how in this age of the development of consciousness something different is coming to expression on the surface of the soul from what is living in its depths, where impulses not present in consciousness today are striving for expression, for realisation.

The consciousness of the proletariat is today filled with three things. First, the materialistic interpretation of history; secondly, the view that up to now, in reality, class struggles have been at the basis of what has gone on in the world, what is now happening being thought to be a reflection of these class struggles. The third thing is the theory of surplus value, that is, the theory that surplus value arises through the unpaid labour of the worker, which makes a profit that is than taken by the employer from the worker without the latter receiving compensation.

What makes the impulses arise in the consciousness of the proletariat, from which are drawn the forces active in the modern social movement, is derived from the combination of these three factors. This, however, refers only to what lies in the consciousness of the proletariat. In the depths of the souls of all present-day mankind, in the deeper layers of the souls of the proletariat too, three other things are living, of which the world as yet knows very little. The world does not make such effort towards self-knowledge, and therefore knows nothing of what, in the depths of the soul, is actually striving for historical realisation.

These three other things are, first, a penetration of the spiritual life, a penetration fitted for the present age, what may be called Spiritual Science. The second is freedom in the life
of thought, freedom of thought. The third is socialism in its right and true sense. Without knowing it the proletariat are striving for these three things. Their instincts follow the other three things that I referred to as being active on the surface of their soul-life, in their actual consciousness.

In this very difference between the proletariat's conscious efforts and their unconscious impulses we see particularly clearly what a complete contrast they make. Take the materialistic interpretation of history. This is due to the modern materialism which has arisen during the last four centuries. This materialism first made itself felt among the leading classes of men in the field of natural science, and later took its hold on all science. It then turned to the material interpretation of history among the members of the modern proletariat, who in reality have simply taken over as heritage the kind of conceptions concerning science holding good for the bourgeoisie. This material conception of history is due to all spiritual life being, as it were, merely the smoke arising from the proceedings in the economic life, from all that is working in the sphere of man's economic life. In the historical course of man's life there is actually only what is going on in the different spheres concerned with the creation of goods—production, trade, consumption; and according to how men have carried on their economy at different times, has depended on their religious belief, what kind of art they have cultivated, what attitude they have taken to rights and morality. The spiritual life is, finally, an ideology, that is, it has no independent reality, being a reflection of the eternal economic struggle. Certainly all the ideas required by men, what they feel aesthetically, on what they bring to expression through their moral will can work back again on the economic struggle. But ultimately all spiritual life is a mirrored image of the external economic life. This is what is called the materialistic interpretation of history. If human life be a mere reflection of purely external, material, economic forces, if it be true that the world is only a world of the senses and that men's thoughts reflect only what is of the senses, if men live entirely in such ideas, wanting to see as reality only what the sense world reveals, then this is a turning away from all true life of the spirit, and signifies man's refusal to recognise an independent spirit resting on itself.

Thus in modern times efforts are directed towards marshalling more and more proofs to justify the assertion that no such thing exists as an independent spirit living in the supersensible, that there is no such thing as spirit at all. This plays upon the surface of men's life of soul, and has constituted. the essential content of modern consciousness since mankind entered the age of the consciousness soul. But in the very depths of their life of soul men today are striving for the spirit; they have, one might say, a most deep and inward need of the spirit. This may be confirmed if we look at the evolution of human history.

We have often looked back on the special kind of spirituality in the first post-Atlantean period of culture, the Indian, and described its character from the most varied standpoints. What we have learnt about it enables those who can look on the things without prejudice to say that the life of spirit, as it existed in the old Indian culture-epoch—to be discovered only by means of Spiritual Science—rests upon unconscious intuition. Mark well, unconscious, for it was then a matter of an atavistic life of spirit.

If we then pass on to the ancient Persian life of spirit and seek its sources, we find them flowing from an unconscious inspiration. The Egypto-Chaldean life of spirit is still prevalent in so-called historic Egyptian times, and if we study history without prejudice we shall be able to see that in the old Egyptian and Chaldaean knowledge we have to do with what is in the soul as unconscious though living imagination.

There then followed the Graeco-Latin life of spirit. In this the ancient imaginations remained, permeated, however, with concepts, ideas. The essential thing expressed by Greek life was that, in human evolution, the Greeks were the first to possess this element that, as an impulse of the soul, was previously non-existent. The Greeks already had ideas, concepts, as I have shown more fully in my Riddles of Philosophy. But through all their ideas and concepts there were weaving the figurative, the imaginative. This is unnoticed today, particularly when it is a question of that unaccountable Greece of which our schools and universities speak. When the Greeks uttered the word ‘idea’ for example, they had in mind nothing so abstract as the concept called up by our word. With than the word conjured up a kind of vision, which was nevertheless to be grasped clearly in the form of concept. It was something perceptible; idea was at the same time vision. In Greek one would never have been able to speak of ideology, though the word comes from the Greek. In any case a Greek would not have spoken so that the same feelings would have been aroused that are aroused today by the word ‘ideology’. For to the Greek ideas were full of being, something permeated by pictures.

Now it is characteristic of our fifth post-Atlantian epoch that imaginations have vanished from the consciousness soul, and it is the concept above all that remains.

Our modern life of spirit, with so little power of picturing things that only abstractions remain, is particularly prized by the cultured for its very dryness and dullness. These times live, so to speak, on abstractions and would reduce everything to some kind of abstract concept. It is just in what is called middle class practical life that, in the most extensive sense, this abstract concept holds sway. It is, however, already making itself felt that in the depths of men's souls slumbering, unconscious impulses are striving after renewed imagination. (This is true of the present and will continue to be so in the near future.) Thus, of the fifth epoch we may say: Concepts striving for imaginations.

1. Old Indian Culture-epoch: Unconscious intuitions as the source of the life of spirit.

2. Old Persian Culture-epoch: Unconscious inspirations as the source of the life of spirit.

3. Egypto-Chaldean Culture-epoch: Unconscious imaginations as the source of the life of spirit.

4. Graeco-Latin Culture-epoch: Unconscious imaginations with concepts.

5. Modern Culture-epoch: Concepts striving for imaginations.

Our Spiritual Science goes to meet this striving for imaginations. The overwhelmingly greater part of mankind knows as yet nothing of what goes on in the soul, and thus see all life of the spirit in mere ideas and concepts before which men feel themselves helpless. For concepts as such have in themselves no content. Till now it has been the destiny among leading circles to develop a certain predilection for purely abstract thinking. This love of abstract thinking, however, has produced something else. This thinking in pure concepts is helpless! It produces an endeavour to rely upon the reality that cannot be relied on because it is only suited to the senses, namely, external physical reality. This belief in external physical reality has, in truth, arisen from the ineffectiveness of the concepts of modern mankind.

The ineffectiveness, the helplessness, of the conceptual life is expressed in every sphere of the spiritual life. In science the great desire is to experiment, so as to discover something not otherwise given to the world of the senses. Pondering on the world of the senses with ideas alone we do not got beyond it, for concepts themselves contain no reality. In art we are getting ever more accustomed to the copying of a model and keeping to the external object alone. Up to now, in art, it has been the destiny of the leading circles of mankind to be absorbed more and more in the mere study of external sense reality. The capacity to create out of the spirit and to represent the spiritual by artistic means is being increasingly lost naturalism alone is striven for, imitation of what nature, as such, represents in the external world, because from the abstract life of the spirit nothing wells up which in itself van be given independent form.

If you consider the development of art in recent times, you will find this everywhere confirmed—this continual striving after more naturalism, after a representation of what externally is seen and perceived. This has finally reached its peak in what is called Impressionism. Before Impressionism artistic endeavour was directed to the reproduction of some external object. Then came those who carried this to its logical conclusion end said: When I have before me a human being or a wood, and I paint this men or this wood, I am not giving my impression, for while I am standing before the wood the sun illumines it in a particular way, but after a few moments the light effect may be suite different. In my desire to be naturalistic what am I to perpetuate? I cannot hold to what the external world shows me for that changes each moment. I try to paint a man who is smiling, but the next instant his expression may be grim! Am I to turn the grim face into the smiling one? What am I to paint? If I wish to paint the external object in its temporary state I shall have to use force on the object. Objects of nature do not allow of this, but with the human object as model force has to be used for the pose and expression to be held as long as possible. But then, when one tries to imitate nature, the model takes on an expression as if he had catalepsy. So that is no good.—For this reason they became Impressionists; they waited to catch and hold the fleeting impression. Then, however, it is no longer possible to be altogether naturalistic, but all means must be used, not to irritate nature, but to reproduce how it appears and reveals itself to anyone in a certain moment. The trouble is that in an effort to be naturalistic one becomes impressionist, and then, alas, as impressionist it is impossible to remain naturalistic: So the whole thing is changed round. Some no longer aimed at giving the impression, at fixing the outward impression, and tried to express what, however primitive, arose within themselves—they tried to hold fast what happens within. These became Expressionists.

In the moral sphere, even in the life of rights, the same course can be shown; everywhere there arises this striving after the abstract life of spirit preferred by men. We have only to look at modern human evolution correctly, and we shall find everywhere this urge towards abstraction. And what effect has this had on the modern proletariat? Since they have been tied to machines, caught up in the present soulless capitalism, their whole destiny has become bound up in the economic life. The same trend of ideas that brought members of the middle-class circles to naturalism in art has now brought the proletariat to the theories expressed in the materialistic interpretation of history. The proletariat everywhere has drawn upon the logical consequences of bourgeois culture—consequences before which the bourgeoisie now stand aghast.

Now, within these bourgeois circles what has been the attitude towards religion? In earlier times there was at least a dim atavistic conception of the Christ-Mystery; there was a feeling that abstract spiritual life offered no possibility of conceiving how the Christ had lived in Jesus. Thus men's ideas became limited to what, in the early days of Christianity, had happened in the world of the senses; they became limited to what merely concerned Jesus. The Christ was looked upon more and more as mere man, whereas the Christ belonging to the supersensible world vanished ever further from the field of human vision. The abstract life of the soul, finding no way to the Christ, contented itself with Jesus. What did the proletariat make of this? They asked themselves: Why do we need any specially religious outlook regarding Jesus? The bourgeoisie have already made of Him the simple man of Nazareth. If Jesus is this simple man of Nazareth, He will naturally be just like us. We are dependent on the economic life and why should Jesus not have been so too? Have we still any justification in ascribing to Him a special mission, or in calling Him the founder of a new human age if He is just the simple man of Nazareth who, for His part, drew His teachings from the economic processes into which He Himself was placed? We must study the economic processes at the time of the founding of Christianity, and the way in which a simple worker deserted his work to spread ideas around concerning the contemporary economic ordering in Palestine. From that we shall see why Jesus made the statements like he did. This Jesus-theory is the final result of modern protestant theology, which no longer has any power over modern men, the modern proletariat.—

But now, in the subconscious depths of their souls, modern men are once more striving for freedom of thought, for inward initiative in thought. On the conscious surface of their soul-life it appears that the opposite is to be the aim, and this opposite is the object of their striving. Hence the deep protesting opposition in the subconscious which comes to expression in the present terrible struggle. The leading bourgeois circles want to be free of any authority; but they are up to the neck in every kind of belief in authority. They have a blind belief in authority above all where the sphere of the State is concerned—now regarded by them as the highest authority. For whose judgment stands higher for the modern middle-class than that of the ‘expert’? The expert is consulted in everything, even in matters of external life. Whoever enters life having left the University with a degree, must know everything. Be he a theologian, he is consulted about God's intentions towards man; if a lawyer he is asked what rights a man has in life; if a doctor of medicine, he is asked for a universal cure, and if any kind of philosopher at all, he is questioned about every possible thing in the world. Modern philosophers always smile when their glance falls on the book of a venerable philosopher of pre-Kantian days—Christian Wolf. This book is called Rational Thoughts on God, the World, the Soul of Man, and all other things; people smile at such a book. But modern leading classes most firmly believe in the spiritual laboratories the State has set up for its citizens, where the whole content of human intelligence is brewed. The concern of these circles is not to give everyone a consciousness of his own, but to create a uniform consciousness, and to manage that in the widest sense it should be a State-consciousness. Modern consciousness is much more a consciousness of the State than is commonly believed. People think of the State as their God who Gives them all they need. They no longer have to bother themselves about things, for the State sees to it that there should be provision for all reasonable departments of life. The proletariat have been excluded from the life of the State except in a few spheres allowed them by its democratic form. With their labour-power that engages the whole man, the proletariat were yoked to the economic life. For this reason it now drew upon itself, for its own life alone, the final consequence. The modern middle-class citizen has a State-consciousness, and though he may not always admit it he is quite willing to boast about this State-consciousness. It is really not necessary to have “Reserve-Lieutenant” and “Professor” printed on your card, just to make a parade of your State-consciousness. It can be done in a quite different way. But the proletariat had no interest in the State. They were harnessed to the economic life, and their feelings were again, though in accordance with their own lives, the final consequence of middle-class feelings. The proletarian consciousness became class-consciousness, and thus we see that since they had nothing to do with the State their class-consciousness was built on internationalism. The middle-class were able to have leanings towards the State only because this modern State looked after them, and the middle-class wish to be looked after. The State, however, did not look after the proletarian, and he felt himself as part of the world only in so far as he belonged to his class. The arising of the proletarian class has been brought about in the same way throughout all States. Hence came the formation of an international proletariat, feeling consciously opposed to the bourgeoisie and all that tended, with the same force of consciousness, towards the State and the agents of the State. Thus, within recent times there has arisen an extraordinarily powerful form of class-consciousness among the proletariat. I do not know how many of you have been to proletarian meetings. But how do they always close They close by copying as a proletarian consequence what has come from so many bourgeois organisations and interests! For example, with what did bourgeois meetings in middle Europe begin and and? With “Hail to the Emperor:” And every proletarian meeting has ended with “Long live the international revolutionary social democracy!” We have only to reflect on what enormous suggestive power lies in these words heard by the proletariat week after week, and how these words induce a uniform consciousness throughout the masses so that all freedom of thought has naturally been driven out. All this has taken firm hold of the soul. Formerly there were meetings, that have now become less frequent, called by the bourgeoisie, to which social democrats also were invited. The Chairman on closing would say: “I shall first beg the social democrats to leave, and then ask the audience to rise and give a salute to the Emperor.” There were also proletarian meetings at the discussions of which the bourgeoisie were allowed to contribute. And at the end the Chairman would ask middle-class members to retire, so that the “Long live the international revolutionary social democracy” could be proposed. Thus was welded what passed through the soul as a uniform class-consciousness—the opposite of what was in the depths of their souls, the opposite of the longing for individual freedom of thought, for an individual form of consciousness!—That is the second thing.

And the third thing pressing for realisation in the depths of the modern soul is Socialism, which can be briefly described as the effort of the modern soul, in the time of the consciousness soul, to be able to feel itself an individual within the social organism. This is how man wants the social organism to be founded; he wants to feel himself member of this social organism. This means that he wishes a consciousness to permeate him that gives him the feeling: What I do is done so that I know in what way the social organism has a part in me and how I have a share in the social organism. Man lives within the social organism. But nowadays, as I have said, the feeling for the social organism is present only in the subconscious.

Today when a painter points a picture he is right in saying: This picture must be paid for; I have put my art into it.—What is his art? It is something only made possible for him by the community, by the social organism. His artistic ability, it is true, depends upon his karma, his earlier earth lives; but people today do not believe that, and by not believing it deceive themselves. If however we ignore the share of ability brought down by our individuality from higher regions through birth, then we are entirely dependent upon the social organism. But modern man pays no conscious heed to this, so instead of a social feeling in his consciousness there has arisen during the last four centuries, above all, on increasingly egoistic, anti-social trend of thought. This anti-social thought expresses itself particularly by everyone thinking first of himself and trying to get as much as possible out of the social organism. The feeling that one should return to the social organism what one has received, is harboured indeed by very few. In leading bourgeois circles there has gradually arisen in regard to the spiritual life the greatest imaginable egoism, egoism that looks upon sheer spiritual enjoyment, sheer intellectual enjoyment, as something man is specially justified in procuring for himself. We have, however, no claim to spiritual enjoyment prepared for us by the social organism if we are not in the position to return to the social organism an appropriate equivalent.

Now the proletariat, not being able to share in the spiritual part of the social organism, and being yoked to the economic life and to soulless capitalism, are again driven to the final consequence of middle-class egoism shown in the theory of surplus value. The worker recognises that it is he who actually produces what comes from machines at the factories, and wants to have the proceeds. He does not wish a part to be withdrawn and to go elsewhere. Seeing nothing but the capitalist who places him at the machine, he naturally thinks that all the surplus value goes to the capitalists and that he must above all turn against them. Considered objectively, there is of course something else, quite different hidden in this so-called surplus value. For what is surplus value? It is everything produced by manual labour for which this labour receives no compensation. Suppose there were no surplus value, that everything went to the worker for his immediate needs. Then it would go without saying that there would be no spiritual culture, no further culture at all! There would be only the economic life, only what can be brought into existence through manual labour. It cannot be a question therefore of the surplus value going to the manual worker, but only of its application in a way that can bring surplus value and manual work into agreement. This will happen only when conditions are created in which the manual worker can have some understanding of where the surplus value goes.

Here one touches on the point where most of the offences of the modern middle-class order have been committed. Machines and factories have been set up, trade has been carried on, capital put into circulation, the worker placed at the machine and thus harnessed to the capitalistic economic order. There he is meant to work. But no one has had the idea that the worker has need of anything beyond his labour power. It is not his labour power alone but also his leisure, the force he has left when his work is done, that must be used in a healthy social order. Only those capitalists are justified who have as great an interest in the Proletariat's labour power that is left over, as they have in the economic application of their forces. Those capitalists alone have justification who take care that the worker, at the end of a definite period of work, can have access to what is good from a universal human point of view spiritually and otherwise educationally.

For this, he must first have the fruits of education. In Middle-class society these fruits of education have been developed, therefore it has been possible for all kinds of popular cultural institutions to be set up. What people's kitchens of the spiritual life! What has not been founded in this sphere! But what feelings must have been awakened by all this in the proletariat? The feeling indeed that the middle-class is giving him something they are cooking there among themselves. Naturally he distrusts it and thinks: Aha, they would make me middle-class too by feeding me with the milk of the pious way of thinking in these people's kitchens!—These welfare movements of the bourgeoisie are largely responsible for the facts arising today in such a shocking way on the horizon of social life. What is appearing flows from much deeper sources than is generally thought. I want the surplus value. That is the egoistic principle that appears as the final consequence of the egoism of the middle-class who also wanted the surplus value. Once again the proletariat takes on the final consequence. And instead of the real, true socialism, slumbering in the depths of the soul, there appears on the surface of the life of the soul, in the consciousness, the theory of surplus value which is eminently anti-social. For everyone who takes surplus value to his heart is doing so for the satisfaction of his own egoism.

Thus today we have an anti-social socialism, just as we have a striving for a content of consciousness that is nothing of the sort. It is simply the result of the economic connection of one class of human beings expressing itself in the class-consciousness of the proletariat. Thus today we have a spiritual endeavour that denies the spirit and has found its logical conclusion in the materialistic interpretation of history.

We must look deeply into these things otherwise we shall not understood the present times. H0w little, in this direction, have the middle-class circles been inclined to cultivate insight into these connections, how little are they still prone to become conscious of them though the facts have spoken so clearly and with such urgency. In no other way will it be possible to bring about a striving among the proletariat that is truly social, in place of the present anti-social striving, than by trying to establish the economic life on a healthy, independent basis as a member of the social organism, which without State interference will have its own laws and its own governing body. In other words, we must make every effort to prevent the State being its own economist in any sphere. Then could be developed real socialism in the economic life, for which there is a deep yearning in the human soul. And there must also be an endeavour to separate from the economic life that of the actual political State, which for its part has no claim either to the economic life nor to the spiritual, cultural, educational life, and so on. If the life of the State makes no demands in either direction, but simply embodies the life of rights, than it bring to expression what here in the physical world is the basis of the relation between man and man—the relation that makes all men equal in the sight of the law. It is only when the life of the State is thus that true freedom of thought can be developed.

As third member of the sound social organism the life of spirit must be formed on its own basis, which can be drawn from the reality of the spirit and must press onward to true Spiritual Science. What in the depths of their souls men are striving for today is indeed the healthy social order, which must, however, be threefold.

Thus can things be regarded, as they have been considered by us today, and Spiritual Science should be taken also in this sense both deeply and earnestly, not as something that is listened to like a Sunday sermon, for that is middle-class.

It is middle-class that in its economic life only a small circle should, at a pinch, be cared for—at least, think they are caring for themselves. It is middle-class in the life of the State to let the State do the caring, and when, to pay a little attention to the life of the spirit, people visit a person, or take up theosophy or anything of the kind. It is really respectably bourgeois: And the Theosophical Movement today has indeed established a life of the spirit very characteristic of middle-class life. One can think of nothing more bourgeois in character than this modern Theosophical Movement. It has grown up as a sectarian spiritual movement right out of the needs of this class. Hence came the struggle when we tried to work out from the Theosophical Movement something that should be permeated by modern human consciousness, and established as a movement for mankind. But from this sectarian bourgeois element, that found an anchorage in the superficiality of human souls, there was always opposition. We must get beyond this; anthroposophical striving must be understood as something demanded by the times, giving us wide instead of narrow interests, and not merely leading us into little groups for the reading of lecture cycles. It is good to reed lecture cycles; I beg you not to jump to the conclusion that no one in future should read them. We should, however, not stop there. What is read must be put into practice by seeking above all to find the relation with modern consciousness. Let us therefore thoroughly read the cycles, and we shall soon see that what is in them actually passes over into our life forces! Then it is the best social nourishment today for striving souls. For everything is thought out there, as indeed it is ultimately in our building, especially in what is there striven for artistically. It is thought out in the sense of modern times, and in these times it can be thought out in no other way. I do not know if you have considered how this building tries to be, even in social respects, a most modern product, and how in this modern sense it aids man in his striving. Just imagine a building the inside of which, or the greater part of which, had no purpose—if it just stood there! It ought to stand in a connection with the whole of the rest of the world order, to have any sense at all. Overhead in the cupola even by day it would be pitch dark, dark as night, were electric light not to come in from outside! This building points to all that is going on outside, so thoroughly is it born of all that is most modern. It must therefore develop in connection not with what is on the surface of the soul but with the inner spiritual aspirations of the time.

Thus, you might reflect upon much that is connected with this building. It is indeed a representative of the most modern spiritual life, and is only to be rightly understood if we grasp the idea of it being a kind of comet, a comet with a tail. The tail consists in there living in the human soul what is really raying forth in feeling from Anthroposophy. But it might easily happen that many people would take up the attitude towards this building that some Catholics, and indeed leading Catholics, have taken towards modern astronomy. In modern astronomy comets are looked upon as ordinary bodies in the firmament, whereas in olden days they were thought to be rods of correction wielded by some materially conceived spirit from a heavenly window. When the time came that leaders of Catholicism could no longer deny that comets should be ranked with other heavenly bodies, they invented en expedient. Some of them who were clever said: The comet consists of a core and a tail; we cannot deny that the core is a heavenly body like the rest, but the tail is not so; the tail has the origin formerly ascribed to it!—So it may also happen that people come to think: We approve of the building, but we will have nothing to do with all the odd experiences issuing from it like a comet's tail!—

But the building, like the comet, belongs to its tail, and it will be necessary that everything in relation to it should be felt in its true connection.

Vierter Vortrag

Im Laufe dieser Betrachtungen habe ich darauf hingewiesen, wie im Verlaufe der Menschheitsentwickelung sich zeigt, daß im Innersten der menschlichen Seele, in dem unbewußten Inneren der menschlichen Seele etwas ganz anderes vorgehen kann, als mehr an der Oberfläche dieser menschlichen Seele vorgeht. Der Mensch kann, wie wir öfter vernommen haben, glauben, er strebe diesem oder jenem nach, während er in Wahrheit in den Tiefen seiner Seele Impulse hat, die ganz, ganz anderem nachstreben. Diese Wahrheit kommt insbesondere für unsere Zeit in Betracht. Wir sehen heute eine ganze Menschenklasse in einer bestimmten Artung eines Wollens, von der wir nun schon öfter gesprochen haben. Gerade da zeigt es sich aber, wie an der Seelenoberfläche, da, wo sich im Bewußtseinszeitalter das Bewußtsein entwickelt, sich etwas ganz, ganz anderes bildet, als unten in den Seelentiefen, wo Impulse nach Verwirklichung streben, von denen heute eben im Bewußtsein noch nichts Wirkliches vorhanden ist.

Wenn wir uns das moderne Proletariat mit Bezug darauf ansehen, was ihm bewußt ist, so finden wir in diesem Bewußtsein, was wir auch schon öfter erwähnt haben, drei Dinge; drei Dinge, von denen dieses proletarische Bewußtsein heute ausgefüllt wird. Es ist erstens die materialistische Geschichtsauffassung; zweitens die Anschauung, daß allem, was in der Welt vorgeht, in Wahrheit bis jetzt Klassenkämpfe zugrunde gelegen haben, daß überall nur Klassenkämpfe sind und das, wovon die Menschen glauben, daß es vorgeht, nur eine Spiegelung von Klassenkämpfen sei; und das dritte ist, was ich Ihnen ja auch schon öfter charakterisiert habe, die Mehrwertlehre, die Lehre von dem Mehrwert, der durch die unbezahlte Arbeitskraft der Arbeiter geliefert wird, und der den Profit ausmacht, der von dem Arbeitgeber dem Arbeiter abgenommen wird, ohne daß der Arbeiter dafür irgendeine Entschädigung erhält. Aus diesen drei Gliedern setzt sich im wesentlichen das zusammen, was im Bewußtsein des Proletariats die Impulse ausmacht, aus denen die moderne soziale Bewegung ihre so oder so zu beurteilenden Kräfte schöpft.

Damit ist dasjenige bezeichnet, was im Bewußtsein des Proletariats lebt. Im Bewußtsein aber der gegenwärtigen Menschheit, zu der im wesentlichen gerade die Gefühle des Proletariats hindrängen, in den tieferen Seelenschichten auch des Proletariats leben drei andere Dinge. Nur weiß von diesen drei anderen Dingen die Welt heute recht wenig. Die Welt strebt wenig nach Selbsterkenntnis, und daher weiß sie nichts von dem, was eigentlich in den Seelentiefen danach strebt, geschichtlich verwirklicht zu werden. Diese drei anderen Dinge sind: erstens eine der neueren Zeit angemessene Durchdringung des geistigen Lebens, dasjenige was man Geisteswissenschaft auf die eine oder andere Art nennen kann; das zweite ist Freiheit des Gedankenlebens, Gedankenfreiheit; das dritte ist im echten und wahren Sinne Sozialismus. Nach diesen drei Dingen strebt auch das Proletariat. Aber es weiß nichts davon. Und seine Instinkte folgen den anderen drei Dingen, von denen ich gesagt habe, daß sie im Oberflächenteil des Seelenlebens, im eigentlichen Bewußtsein, tätig sind.

Nun stellt sich gerade an diesem Unterschiede des bewußten proletarischen Strebens und der unterbewußten Impulse mit besonderer Deutlichkeit heraus, daß ein völliger Gegensatz zwischen diesen beiden ist. Nehmen Sie die materialistische Geschichtsauffassung. Sie ist hervorgegangen aus dem Materialismus der neueren Zeit überhaupt, der seit vier Jahrhunderten in der Menschenentwickelung heraufgestiegen ist. Dieser Materialismus hat bei den führenden Klassen der Menschheit zuerst auf dem Felde der Naturwissenschaft sich geltend gemacht, hat sich dann über die Wissenschaft überhaupt ausgedehnt, und beim modernen Proletariat, das im Grunde genommen nur das Erbe der bürgerlichen, wissenschaftlich orientierten Vorstellungsart angenommen hat, hat sich der Materialismus dann umgewandelt in die materialistische Geschichtsauffassung. Diese materialistische Geschichtsauffassung geht davon aus, daß eigentlich alles geistige Leben nur gewissermaßen der Rauch ist, der aufsteigt aus den Vorgängen des Wirtschaftslebens, aus alldem, was sich im Gebiete des ökonomischen Lebens der Menschheit abspielt. Wirklich im geschichtlichen Verlaufe des Menschenlebens ist nur das, was eben im Gebiete der Warenerzeugung, der Produktion, des Handels, der Konsumtion vorgeht, und je nach dem die Menschen in der einen oder anderen Weise in einem Zeitalter gewirtschaftet haben, je nach dem haben sie dies oder jenes religiös geglaubt, diese oder jene Kunstform gepflegt, das oder jenes als ihr Recht, als ihre Sittlichkeit angesehen. Das geistige Leben ist im wesentlichen eine Ideologie, das heißt, es hat keine in ihm selbst liegende Wirklichkeit, ist ein Spiegelbild desjenigen, was sich als Wirtschaftskämpfe draußen abspielt. Es kann wiederum zurückwirken auf die Wirtschaftskämpfe, was die Menschen in ihre Vorstellungen aufgenommen haben, was sie künstlerisch empfinden, was sie im sittlichen Wollen zum Ausdruck bringen. Aber letzten Endes ist alles geistige Leben eine Spiegelung des äußeren wirtschaftlichen Lebens. Das ist im wesentlichen, was man materialistische Geschichtsauffassung nennt. Wenn auch das menschliche Leben nur eine Spiegelung von rein äußerlichen, materiellen wirtschaftlichen Kräften ist, und wenn hinzukommt, daß die Welt überhaupt nur Sinnliches ist, und die Gedanken der Menschen nur etwas sind, was das Sinnliche abspiegelt, und wenn dann der Mensch nur in solchen Vorstellungen leben will, nur solches als wirklich empfinden will, was in der Sinnenwelt sich zeigt, sich offenbart — dann ist dies eine Abkehr von allem wirklichen Geistesleben, dann bedeutet das, daß der Mensch darauf verzichtet, etwas als einen selbständigen, in sich ruhenden Geist anzuerkennen.

So hat die neuere Zeit ihre Bemühung darauf gerichtet, immer mehr und mehr Beweise dazu heranzutragen, um behaupten zu dürfen, daß es einen selbständigen, im Übersinnlichen lebenden Geist, ein Geistiges überhaupt, nicht gibt. Das spielt sich ab an der Oberfläche des menschlichen Seelenlebens. Das macht im wesentlichen den Inhalt des neueren Bewußtseins aus, nachdem die Menschheit in das Zeitalter des Bewußtseins eingetreten ist. In den alleruntersten Gründen des Seelenlebens aber strebt gerade die neuere Menschheit nach dem Geist hin. Sie hat, man möchte sagen, ein innerstes, tiefstes Bedürfnis nach Geist. Ein Blick auf die Entwickelung der Menschheitsgeschichte zeigt dieses. Wir blickten oftmals zurück auf die besondere Geistesart der ersten nachatlantischen Kulturperiode, auf die besondere Geistesart der indischen Kulturperiode; nun haben wir von den verschiedensten Gesichtspunkten aus diese indische Kulturperiode charakterisiert. Das, was wir über sie kennengelernt haben, wird dem, der unbefangen die Dinge anzuschauen vermag, sagen können, daß eine solche Art, geistig zu leben, wie sie in der uralten, nur von der Geisteswissenschaft aufzufindenden indischen Kulturperiode liegt, daß eine solche Artung des Geisteslebens beruht auf den unbewußten Intuitionen; wohl gemerkt auf unbewußten Intuitionen, denn es war ja atavistisches Geistesleben. So daß wir sagen können: in dieser ersten nachatlantischen Kulturperiode haben wir unbewußte Intuitionen als Quelle des Geisteslebens.

Wenn wir dann weitergehen und uns das urpersische Geistesleben ansehen und wiederum fragen: Woraus fließt es? — so werden wir finden, dieses urpersische Geistesleben, es fließt aus unbewußten Inspirationen.

Das dritte, das ägyptisch-chaldäische Geistesleben, fließt aus unbewußten Imaginationen. Dieses ägyptisch-chaldäische Geistesleben ragt ja schon herein in die ersten historischen Zeiten, und man kann da schon, wenn man nur die Geschichte unbefangen genug betrachtet, darauf kommen, daß man es in der alten Wissenschaft der Ägypter, in der alten Wissenschaft der Chaldäer mit unbewußten, aber im Seelenleben lebenden Imaginationen zu tun hatte.

Nun kam das griechisch-lateinische Geistesleben. Im griechischl-ateinischen Geistesleben blieben schon noch die Imaginationen, aber die Imaginationen durchdrangen sich mit Begriffen, mit Ideen. Das war das Wesentliche, was das griechische Leben auszeichnete, daß die Griechen in der Menschheitsentwickelung als erste das hatten, was früher nicht in dieser Menschheitsentwickelung als seelischer Impuls vorhanden war. Die Griechen hatten bereits Ideen, Begriffe. Das Genauere habe ich in meinen «Rätseln der Philosophie» dargestellt. Aber alle Begriffe der Griechen waren durchzogen von Bildlichkeit, von Imaginationen. - Das merkt man heute nicht, insbesondere in jenem sonderbaren Griechentum, von dem unsere Gymnasial- und Universitätsbildung spricht, merkt man das nicht. - Wenn der Grieche zum Beispiel das Wort «Idee» aussprach, so war das, was er dabei ins Seelenauge faßte, nicht etwas so abstrakt Begriffliches, wie es bei uns heute der Seele vorschwebt, wenn wir das Wort Idee aussprechen. Der Grieche hatte, wenn er das Wort Idee aussprach, die Vorstellung, daß vor ihm gewissermaßen etwas Visionäres schwebt, das aber doch deutlich in einen Begriff gefaßt ist. Es war etwas Anschauliches. Idee ist zugleich Gesicht. Im Griechischen würde man von «Ideologie» nicht eigentlich haben sprechen können, obwohl das Wort dem Griechischen nachgebildet ist; jedenfalls nicht so haben sprechen können, daß man dasselbe dabei empfunden hätte, was man heute empfindet, wenn man von Ideologie spricht; denn dem Griechen waren seine Ideen etwas Wesenhaftes, etwas vom Bilde Durchzogenes.

I. Urindische Kulturperiode: Unbewußte Intuitionen als Quelle des Geisteslebens

II. Urpersische Kulturperiode: Unbewußte Inspirationen als Quelle des Geisteslebens

III. Ägyptisch-chaldäische Kulturperiode: Unbewußte Imaginationen als Quelle do; Geisteslebens

IV. Griechisch-lateinische Kulturperiode: Unbewußte Imaginationen mit Begriffen

V. Neue Zeit: Begriffe, die nach Imaginationen streben

Nun ist das Eigentümliche, daß in unserer fünften nachatlantischen Zeit zunächst die Imaginationen verlorengegangen sind und daß die Begriffe für die Bewußtseinsseele geblieben sind. Unser neueres Geistesleben ist so nüchtern, so trocken, aus diesem Geistesleben ist alles Bildhafte herausgepreßt worden und geblieben ist die Abstraktion, die die Leute, die gebildet sein wollen, ganz besonders lieben. Die neuere Zeit lebt ja gewissermaßen von Abstraktion und will alles, alles auf irgendeinen abstrakten Begriff gebracht haben. Gerade in dem, was man bürgerlich praktisches Leben nennt, gerade da herrscht der abstrakte Begriff im allerumfänglichsten Sinne. Aber schon macht sich wiederum geltend — und das charakterisiert gerade unsere Gegenwart und wird die nächste Zukunft im besonderen Maße charakterisieren —, schon macht sich wieder geltend, daß die Tiefen der menschlichen Seelen, die unterbewußten Impulse der menschlichen Seelen wiederum nach Imaginationen streben. So daß man sagen kann: Begriffe, die nach Imaginationen streben.

Diesem Streben nach Imaginationen kommt unsere Geisteswissenschaft entgegen. Aber eben der weitaus überwiegende Teil der Menschheit weiß noch nichts von dem, was da in seiner Seele drunten ist. Daher sieht er dasjenige, was Geistesleben ist, in den bloßen Begriffen, in den bloßen Vorstellungen und ist mit diesen Vorstellungen ziemlich hilflos. Denn Begriffe als solche haben für sich keinen eigentlichen Inhalt. Und es ist das Schicksal der leitenden Kreise bisher gewesen, daß sie immer mehr und mehr eine gewisse Vorliebe für rein begriffliches Denken entwickelt haben. Aber diese Vorliebe für rein begriffliches Denken erzeugte etwas anderes. Hilflos ist dieses rein begriffliche Denken; es erzeugt das Streben nach einer Anlehnung an diejenige Wirklichkeit, die man nicht ablehnen kann, weil sie sich eben den Sinnen anpaßt: an die äußere sinnliche Wirklichkeit. Dieser Glaube an die bloß äußere sinnliche Wirklichkeit ist im wesentlichen entstanden aus der begrifflichen Hilflosigkeit der modernen Menschheit.

Auf allen Gebieten des geistigen Lebens drückt sich diese Hilflosigkeit des Begriffslebens aus. In der Wissenschaft will man vor allen Dingen experimentieren, damit durch das Experiment irgend etwas herauskomme, was der Sinnenwelt sonst nicht gegeben ist, weil, wenn man die Sinneswelt bloß vorstellungsgemäß verarbeitet, man über diese Sinneswelt nicht hinauskommt. Denn die Begriffe selbst enthalten keine Realität.

In der Kunst gewöhnte man sich immer mehr und mehr, das Modell anzubeten, sich rein zu halten an dasjenige, was das äußere Objekt gibt. Und es ist im wesentlichen wiederum das Schicksal gewesen der bisher leitenden Kreise der Menschheit, in der Kunst immer mehr und mehr hinzutreiben nach einer Art bloßen Studiums der äußeren sinnlichen Wirklichkeit. Man strebte immer mehr und mehr da hin, die äußere sinnliche Wirklichkeit aufzufassen. Etwas aus dem Geiste heraus zu schöpfen und es durch die Mittel der Kunst hinzustellen, das ging immer mehr und mehr verloren. Man strebte nur nach Naturalismus, nach einer Nachahmung desjenigen, was die Natur als solche in der Außenwelt darstellt, weil aus dem abstrakten Geistesleben nichts hervorquoll, was selbständig für sich gestaltet werden konnte.

Nehmen Sie die Entwickelung der neueren Künste, so werden Sie das überall bewahrheitet finden. Diese neueren Künste strebten, soweit das nur irgend sein kann, immer mehr und mehr nach Naturalismus hin, nach einer Darstellung dessen, was man äußerlich sieht und wahrnimmt. Das gipfelte zuletzt in dem, was man Impressionismus nannte. Diejenigen, die vor dem Impressionismus gestrebt haben nach Künstlerischem, versuchten, irgendein äußeres Objekt in der Kunst wiederzugeben. Aber da kamen diejenigen, die die letzten Konsequenzen aus alle dem zogen und sagten: Ja, wenn ich nun wirklich einen Menschen oder einen Wald vor mir habe und diesen Menschen oder diesen Wald male, so gebe ich ja gar nicht das wieder, was mein Eindruck ist; denn ich stehe vor einem Wald, ich stehe vor einem Menschen —- und in dem Augenblicke, wo ich vor dem Wald stehe, da bescheint ihn die Sonne in einer gewissen Weise, aber nach wenigen Augenblicken ist die Sonnenbeleuchtung eine ganz andere. Was soll ich denn dann eigentlich festhalten, wenn ich naturalistisch sein will? Ich kann ja gar nicht festhalten, was mir die Außenwelt zeigt, denn diese Außenwelt hat ja alle Augenblicke ein anderes Gesicht. Ich will einen Menschen malen, der lächelt - aber das nächste Mal macht er ein griesgrämiges Gesicht! Was soll ich denn nun eigentlich machen? Soll ich über das lächelnde das griesgrämige Gesicht darübersetzen? Wenn ich darstellen will, was äußere Objekte sind in ihrem Bleiben in der Zeit, so müßte ich schon die Objekte selber zwingen. Naturobjekte lassen sich nicht zwingen, aber die menschlichen Objekte müßte man schon zwingen, wenn sie Modell sitzen, möglichst die Pose des Ausdrucks zu behalten. Aber dann machen sie, wenn man versucht, die Natur nachzuahmen, den Eindruck, wie wenn sie vom Starrkrampf befallen wären, wenn man sie naturalistisch machen will. So geht es also nicht. - Und so wurden sie Impressionisten, welche nur den unmittelbaren, vorübergehenden Eindruck festlegen wollten. Dann muß man aber nicht mehr ganz und gar naturalistisch sein, sondern muß schon allerlei Mittel anwenden, wodurch man nicht die Natur nachahmt, sondern den Schein hervorruft, den die Natur in einem Augenblicke als Offenbarung auf einen macht. Und da entstand die Klippe; man wollte gerade, um recht naturalistisch zu sein, impressionistisch werden; und siehe da, man konnte im Impressionismus nicht mehr naturalistisch sein. Jetzt wendete sich das Ganze um. Jetzt versuchten einige nicht mehr Impressionen zu geben, nicht mehr den äußeren Eindruck festzuhalten, sondern gerade das, was in ihrem Inneren aufstieg, und sollte es noch so primitiv sein; das Innere, das da aufsteigt, das suchten sie festzuhalten. Und diese wurden Expressionisten.

Denselben Gang könnten wir auf dem Gebiete des sittlichen, ja sogar des Rechtslebens darlegen; überall dieses Streben aus der Vorliebe für das abstrakte Geistesleben heraus. Man muß nur die Entwickelung der neueren Menschheit daraufhin in der richtigen Art ansehen, dann wird man schon darauf kommen, daß überall dieses Streben nach Abstraktion drinnensteckt. Was ist beim modernen Proletariat daraus geworden? Dieses moderne Proletariat ist, als es an die Maschine gestellt wurde, eingespannt wurde in den modernen, seelenlosen Kapitalismus, eben mit seinem ganzen Schicksal nur im Wirtschaftsleben gewesen. Dieselbe Vorstellungsrichtung, welche die Angehörigen der bürgerlichen Kreise zum Naturalismus gebracht haben, haben das Proletariat zu der Lehre gebracht, die sich in der materialistischen Geschichtsauffassung ausdrückt. Überall, wo man hinblickt, sieht man, daß das Proletariat eben nur die letzten Konsequenzen desjenigen gezogen hat, was sich innerhalb der bürgerlichen Kreise ausgebildet hat — die letzten Konsequenzen, vor denen dann diese bürgerlichen Kreise so furchtbar zurückschaudern.

Wie hat man es innerhalb der Bürgerkreise mit dem Religiösen gehalten? Mit dem Religiösen hat man es zum Beispiel auf einem Gebiete in Bürgerkreisen so gehalten: Man hatte früher wenigstens ata nn vistisch dunkle Vorstellungen von dem Christus-Mysterium. Man hatte sich verschiedene Vorstellungen darüber ausgebildet, wie in dem Jesus der Christus drinnen lebte. Im Laufe des 19. Jahrhunderts erst hat es sich herausgebildet, daß man aus dem abstrakten Geistesleben heraus sich keine Vorstellung mehr machen konnte, wie in dem Jesus der Christus gelebt hat. So beschränkte man sich auf das, was sich innerhalb der Sinneswelt abgespielt hat im Beginne der christlichen Entwickelung, auf die bloße Jesulogie. Der Jesus wurde immer mehr und mehr als äußerer Mensch betrachtet. Der Christus, der der übersinnlichen Welt angehört, verschwand immer mehr und mehr. Das abstrakte Seelenleben fand keinen Weg zu dem Christus, begnügte sich mit dem Jesus. Was machte daraus das proletarische Bewußtsein? Das proletarische Bewußtsein sagte: Wozu brauchen wir dann überhaupt noch eine besondere religiöse Anschauung über den Jesus? Die Bürgerlichen haben ja den Jesus bereits zu dem schlichten Mann aus Nazareth gemacht. Der ist unseresgleichen selbstverständlich, wenn er der schlichte Mann aus Nazareth ist. Wir sind abhängig vom Wirtschaftsleben, warum soll der nicht vom Wirtschaftsleben abhängig gewesen sein? Hat noch irgend jemand ein Recht, ihm eine besondere andere Mission zuzuschreiben, ihn den Begründer eines ganz neuen Menschheitszeitalters zu nennen, da er ja doch nur der schlichte Mann aus Nazareth war, der eben seinerzeit aus den wirtschaftlichen Vorgängen heraus, in die er versetzt war, das behauptet hat, was er eben behauptet hat? — Die wirtschaftlichen Vorgänge muß man studieren in der Zeit, als das Christentum begonnen hat; und die Art und Weise, wie ein schlichter Handwerker, der dem Handwerk entlaufen ist und im Herumziehen allerlei Ideen entwickelt hat im Sinne der Wirtschaftsordnung des damaligen Palästina, das muß man studieren; daraus wird man dann ersehen, warum der Jesus gerade das behauptet hat, was er behauptet hat. Letzte Konsequenz der modernen protestantischen Theologie, das ist auch die materialistische Jesus-Lehre des modernen Proletariats, die eben keine den Menschen noch tragende Kraft mehr hat.

Mit Bezug auf das zweite, auf die Gedankenfreiheit, die innerliche Gedankeninitiative, ist es wiederum das unterbewußte tiefere Seeleninnere der modernen Menschheit, was danach strebt. Dasjenige, was auf der Oberfläche des Seelenlebens im Bewußtsein lebt, macht sich vor, daß es gerade nach dem Gegenteile zu streben habe, und strebt auch nach dem Gegenteile. Daher rumort das Unterbewußte in einer radikalen Opposition, die eben in unseren furchtbaren Gegenwartskämpfen zum Ausdrucke kommt. Autoritätsfrei wollten die leitenden Bürgerkreise der neueren Zeit werden. Sie sind hineingeplumpst in alle möglichen Arten von Autoritätsglauben. Vor allen Dingen sind sie hineingeplumpst in einen blinden Autoritätsglauben gegenüber all dem, was irgendwie in die Sphäre des Staates einbezogen ist, der die höchste Autorität für das Bürgertum geworden ist.

Was spielt eine größere Rolle in diesem modernen Bürgertum als das «fachmännische Urteil»! Der Mensch frägt nach dem fachmännischen Urteil und führt dieses Fragen nach dem fachmännischen Urteil eben auch in sein äußeres Leben ein. Derjenige, der abgestempelt mit dem Diplom der Universität in das Leben hinaustritt, der weiß die Dinge; den frägt man mit Bezug auf das, was Gott mit der Menschheit vorhat, wenn er ein Theologe ist. Man frägt ihn mit Bezug auf das, was im Menschenleben Recht ist, wenn er ein Jurist ist; man frägt ihn, was dem Menschen Heilung bringen kann, wenn er ein Mediziner ist, und man frägt ihn über alle möglichen Dinge der Welt, wenn er aus irgendeiner Ecke der philosophischen Fakultät heraus kommt. Die moderne Menschheit, ein kleiner Kreis wenigstens, hat immer gelächelt, wenn der Blick auf ein Buch des ehrwürdigen Philosophen der vorkantischen Zeit, Wolf, fiel. Und dieses Buch trägt den Titel so ungefähr: «Über die Natur, über die Menschenseele, über den Staat, über die Geschichte und über alle vernünftigen Dinge überhaupt.» Über ein solches Buch lächelt man. Aber daß in den geistigen Laboratorien, die der Staat aufgerichtet hat für die Menschen, alles dasjenige gebraut werde, was der Inhalt der Vernunft sein soll für die Menschen, daran glauben die leitenden Kreise in der neueren Zeit mit aller Festigkeit. Das heißt, diese leitenden Kreise haben keineswegs danach gestrebt, daß jeder sein eigenes Bewußtsein habe, sondern sie haben danach gestrebt, das Bewußtsein zu uniformieren, es so einzurichten, daß es im Grunde im weitesten Sinne ein Staatsbewußtsein ist. «Staatsbewußtsein» ist das moderne Bewußtsein viel mehr geworden, als die Menschen eigentlich glauben. Die Menschen denken sich den Staat als ihren Gott, der ihnen das gibt, was sie brauchen. Sie brauchen sich nicht weiter mit den Dingen zu beschäftigen, denn der Staat sorgt ja dafür, daß alle vernünftigen Zweige des Lebens geregelt werden.

Ausgeschlossen von dem Staatsleben war das Proletariat mit Ausnahme der paar Gebiete, in die man es in das Staatsleben in demokratischen Staatsgebilden hineingelassen hat. Das Proletariat war ganz — selbst mit dem, was den ganzen Menschen nach sich zieht, mit seiner Arbeitskraft - in das Wirtschaftsleben eingespannt. Das Proletariat zog nun wiederum nur für sein Leben die letzte Konsequenz. Der moderne bürgerliche Mensch hat ein Staatsbewußtsein, wenn er das auch nicht immer zugibt, aber er macht sehr gerne Staat mit diesem Staatsbewußtsein. Man braucht wahrhaftig nicht bloß auf seine Karten drucken zu lassen «Reserveleutenant und Professor», um mit dem Staatsbewußtsein Staat zu machen, man kann es in ganz anderer Form machen. Aber das Proletariat hatte kein Interesse am Staat. Es war in das Wirtschaftsleben eingespannt. Daher fühlte es nun wiederum so, daß sein Fühlen die letzte Konsequenz des bürgerlichen Fühlens wurde, aber entsprechend seinem Leben. Sein Bewußtsein wurde das Klassenbewußtsein des Proletariats. Und so sehen wir eigentlich, weil nun diese Klasse des Proletariats nichts zu tun hat mit dem Staate, dieses Klassenbewußtsein auf Internationalismus gebaut. Also diese Dinge sind notwendig. Zu dem modernen Staate konnte nur der Bürgerliche hinneigen, weil der moderne Staat für den Bürgerlichen sorgt, und der Bürgerliche für sich gesorgt haben will. Der Staat aber sorgte nicht für den Proletarier. Der fühlte sich nur in der Welt drinnenstehend, insofern er seiner Klasse angehörte. Und die proletarische Klasse ist überall in der gleichen Art vorgegangen durch alle Staaten durch. Daher bildete sich dieses internationale Proletariat heraus, dieses internationale Proletariat, welches sich fühlte im bewußten Gegensatz gegen alles dasjenige, was bürgerlich war, und was mit derselben Kraft des Bewußtseins nach dem Staate und nach den Staatsfaktoren hinstrebte. Und es gab eine außerordentlich suggestive Ausbildung dieses Klassenbewußtseins im Proletariat in der modernen Zeit. Ich weiß nicht, wie viele von Ihnen proletarische Versammlungen besucht haben. Wie schlossen diese proletarischen Versammlungen denn immer? Sie schlossen immer damit, daß man in proletarischer Konsequenz das nachgemacht hat, was so viele bürgerliche Veranstaltungen aus ihren bürgerlichen Interessen heraus angegeben haben. Womit schloß man zum Beispiel in Mitteleuropa die bürgerlichen Versammlungen? Mit dem Kaiserhoch! Oder man begann damit. Jede Proletarier-Versammlung schloß: «Es lebe die internationale revolutionäre Sozialdemokratie!» Man muß nur bedenken, was für eine ungeheure suggestive Kraft dieses von Woche zu Woche vom Proletarier gehörte Wort bedeutet, und wie das ein Einheitsbewußtsein durch die Massen treibt, so daß jede Gedankenfreiheit selbstverständlich ausgetrieben wird. Es saß das fest in der Seele. Es gab ja, wenn auch immer weniger, aber es gab in früheren Zeiten von Bürgerlichen einberufene Versammlungen, zu denen auch Sozialdemokraten eingeladen wurden. Der Vorsitzende sagte dann am Schluß: Ich bitte die Herren Sozialdemokraten zuerst hinauszugehen, denn ich werde jetzt die Versammlung auffordern, sich von den Sitzen zu erheben und das Kaiserhoch auszubringen. - Es hat in früheren Zeiten proletarische Versammlungen gegeben, wobei Bürgerliche zu den Diskussionen zugelassen waren. Der proletarische Vorsitzende hat am Schluß gesagt: Ich bitte die Herren der bürgerlichen Klasse jetzt sich hinauszubegeben, denn es wird das Hoch auf die internationale revolutionäre Sozialdemokratie ausgebracht. — So ist zusammengeschweißt worden, was die Seelen durchzog als das sie uniformierende Klassenbewußtsein. Das Gegenteil von dem, was gerade in den Herzen tiefer unten sitzt, das Gegenteil von der Sehnsucht nach individueller Gedankenfreiheit, nach einer individuellen Formung des Bewußtseins! Das ist das zweite.

Das dritte, was in den Tiefen der modernen Seele drängt, sich zu verwirklichen, das ist der Sozialismus — der Sozialismus, der einfach dadurch zu kennzeichnen ist, daß man sagt: Die moderne Seele strebt im Zeitalter des Bewußtseins dahin, daß der einzelne sich fühlen möchte in dem sozialen Organismus drinnen. Man will schon den sozialen Organismus als solchen begründen, man will sich als Mensch als Glied dieses sozialen Organismus fühlen, man will drinnenstehen in irgendeiner Weise. Das heißt, man will von einem solchen Bewußtsein sich durchdringen, daß man immer die Empfindung als Mensch hat: was ich tue, tue ich so, daß ich weiß, wieviel Anteil an mir der soziale Organismus hat, und wie wiederum ich Anteil habe an dem sozialen Organismus. Der Mensch lebt ja im sozialen Organismus drinnen. Aber, wie gesagt, heute ist noch die Empfindung für den sozialen Organismus nur in den unterbewußten Seelenregionen vorhanden.

Wenn heute ein Maler ein Bild malt, wird er mit Recht sagen: Dieses Bild muß mir bezahlt werden, denn ich habe meine Kunst in dieses Bild hineingelegt. — Was ist seine Kunst? — Seine Kunst ist etwas, was die Gesellschaft, was der soziale Organismus ihm erst möglich gemacht hat. Gewiß, es hängt von seinem Karma, von seinen früheren Erdenleben ab; aber daran glauben die Leute heute auch nicht, wobei sie sich freilich in Selbsttäuschung befinden. Aber insofern wir nicht den Anteil betrachten, den unsere durch die Geburt aus höheren Regionen herabsteigende Individualität uns an unserem Können gibt, insofern sind wir ja ganz abhängig, in dem was wir können, von dem sozialen Organismus. Aber der moderne Mensch beachtet das in seinem Bewußtsein nicht. Und so ist statt des sozialen Empfindens zunächst im Bewußtsein seit vier Jahrhunderten immer mehr und mehr eine egoistische, eine antisoziale Denkart entstanden; die antisoziale Denkart, die sich namentlich darin ausdrückt, daß jeder eigentlich zunächst an sich denkt und so viel als möglich herauszubekommen versucht aus dem sozialen Organismus. Das Gefühl, alles wieder zurückgeben zu müssen an den sozialen Organismus, was man von ihm bekommen hat, das haben heute wenige. Gerade in den leitenden bürgerlichen Kreisen ist mit Bezug auf das Geistesleben allmählich der denkbar größte Egoismus heraufgestiegen, der Egoismus, der den bloßen geistigen Genuß als etwas besonders Berechtigtes für den Menschen ansieht, der sich diesen geistigen Genuß verschaffen kann. Man hat aber keinen Anspruch auf geistigen Genuß, der einem durch den sozialen Organismus bereitet wird, wenn man nicht an dem Orte, an den man in der Welt gestellt ist, ein entsprechendes Äquivalent dem sozialen Organismus wiederum zurückgeben will. Das muß man sich klarmachen.

Nun hat wiederum das Proletariat, das ja nicht hat teilnehmen dürfen an dem geistigen Teil des sozialen Organismus, das im Wirtschaftsleben und in dem seelenlosen Kapitalismus eingespannt ist, es hat nur die letzte Konsequenz dieses bürgerlichen Egoismus gezogen in der Mehrwertslehre. Der Arbeiter sieht, er produziert ja eigentlich dasjenige, was in der Fabrik, an der Maschine hergestellt wird, also will er auch haben, was dafür einkommt. Er will nicht, daß ein Teil davon abgezogen wird und woanders hingeht. Und weil er nichts anderes sieht als den Kapitalisten, der ihn an die Maschine stellt, so glaubt er selbstverständlich, daß aller Mehrwert an den Kapitalisten geht, und muß sich zunächst kämpfend gegen den Kapitalisten wenden. Objektiv betrachtet steckt natürlich in dem, was dem sogenannten Mehrwert entspricht, etwas ganz anderes noch. Was ist Mehrwert? Mehrwert ist alles dasjenige, was durch Handarbeit produziert wird, ohne daß dafür diese Handarbeit eine Entschädigung bekommt. Denken Sie sich, es gäbe keinen Mehrwert, alles würde den Bedürfnissen des Handarbeiters zufließen. Was gäbe es dann nicht? Selbstverständlich keine geistige Kultur, überhaupt keine weitere Kultur; es gäbe nur Wirtschaftsleben, es gäbe überhaupt nur, was durch Handarbeit zutage gefördert werden kann. Es kann sich gar nicht darum handeln, daß der Mehrwert der Handarbeit zufließt, sondern nur darum, daß der Mehrwert in einem Sinne, mit dem der Handwerker einverstanden sein kann, verwendet werde. Das wird aber nur geschehen, wenn man den Handwerker dazu heranzieht, Verständnis zu haben für die Wege, die der Mehrwert nimmt.

Hier berührt man den Punkt, wo am meisten gesündigt worden ist von der bürgerlichen Ordnung der neueren Zeit. Man hat die Maschinen, die Fabriken begründet, man hat den Handel begründet, das Kapital auch in Zirkulation gebracht, man hat den Arbeiter an die Maschine gestellt, in die kapitalistische Wirtschaftsordnung eingespannt. Da hatte er arbeiten sollen. Aber man hat nicht darauf gesehen, etwas anderes vom Arbeiter zu brauchen, als seine Arbeitskraft. In einem gesunden sozialen Organismus muß vom Arbeiter nicht nur die Arbeitskraft gebraucht werden, sondern auch die Ruhe, dasjenige, was an seiner Kraft übrigbleibt, wenn er gearbeitet hat. Und nur diejenigen Kapitalisten sind eigentlich berechtigt, welche ebenso Interesse haben an Ersparnis, an der nötigen Ersparnis der Arbeitskraft des Proletariers, wie sie ein Interesse haben an der wirtschaftlichen Verwendung der Arbeitskraft. Diejenigen Kapitalisten haben nur eine Berechtigung, die dafür sorgen, daß der Arbeiter nach einer bestimmten Arbeitszeit irgendwie an das herankommen kann, was allgemein menschliches geistiges und sonstiges Bildungsgut ist.

Dazu muß man dieses Bildungsgut erst haben. Die bürgerliche Gesellschaftsklasse hatte dieses Bildungsgut entwickelt; daher konnte sie gut allerlei populäre Bildungsanstalten begründen. Was hat man nicht alles getan an solchen Volksküchen des geistigen Lebens! Was ist auf diesem Gebiete alles gegründet worden. Aber zu welchem Bewußtsein konnte der Proletarier bei diesen Volksküchen des geistigen Lebens kommen? Zu keinem anderen, als daß ihm da die Bürgerlichen etwas abgeben, was sie unter sich ausgekocht haben. Da hatte er natürlich das Mißtrauen: Aha, die wollen mich bürgerlich machen, indem sie mir ihre Milch der frommen Denkungsart da in der Volksküche einflößen. Diese ganzen bürgerlichen Wohlfahrtsbewegungen, sie sind durch die Art, wie sie waren, vielfach Schuld an den Tatsachen, die heute so schreckhaft an dem Horizont des sozialen Lebens auftauchen. Was heute auftritt, stammt eben aus viel ernsteren Untergründen, als man gewöhnlich meint. Den Mehrwert will ich haben! — das ist das egoistische Prinzip, das als letzte Konsequenz des bürgerlichen Egoismus, der nun auch den Mehrwert haben wollte, erscheint. Wiederum zieht das Proletariat die letzte Konsequenz. Und statt des Sozialismus, der in den Untergründen der Seelen ist, erscheint auf der Oberfläche des Seelenlebens im Bewußtsein die Mehrwertslehre, die im eminentesten Sinne antisozial ist. Denn wenn jeder das einheimst, was der Mehrwert ist, so heimst er es ein für seinen Egoismus.

Und so haben wir heute, meine lieben Freunde, einen Sozialismus, der nicht sozialistisch ist, so wie wir heute ein Streben haben nach einem Bewußtseinsinhalt, der kein Bewußtseinsinhalt ist, sondern der das Ergebnis des wirtschaftlichen Zusammenhanges einer Menschenklasse ist, und sich ausdrückt im Klassenbewußtsein des Proletariats. Und so haben wir heute ein Geistesstreben, welches den Geist verleugnet und seine letzte Konsequenz in der matenalistischen Geschichtsauffassung gefunden hat.

Diese Dinge müssen durchschaut werden, sonst versteht man nicht, was in der Gegenwart lebt. Und wie wenig waren die Bürgerkreise geneigt, nach dieser Richtung hin wirklich ein Durchschauen der Verhältnisse auszubilden, wie wenig sind sie heute noch, nachdem die Tatsachen so deutlich, so brennend sprechen, geneigt, sich dieses Bewußtsein anzueignen.

Es wird auf keinem anderen Wege möglich sein, statt des antisozialen Strebens im Proletariat von heute ein wirklich soziales Streben herauszubringen, als daß man versucht, das Wirtschaftsleben auf seine gesunde selbständige Basis zu stellen als ein Glied des sozialen Organismus, das seine eigene Gesetzgebung und seine eigene Verwaltung hat, in das sich nicht mehr der Staat hineinmischt. Mit anderen Worten, es muß angestrebt werden, daß der Staat auf keinem Gebiete selbst Wirtschafter ist. Dann kann sich das, was in den Tiefen der Menschenseelen ersehnt wird, wirklicher Sozialismus im Wirtschaftsleben ausbilden. Und es muß angestrebt werden, daß von diesem Wirtschaftsleben abgesondert ist das Leben des eigentlichen politischen Staates, der nun seinerseits weder einen Anspruch macht auf das Wirtschaftsleben noch auf das eigentliche Geistesleben, auf das Kulturleben, Schulleben und so weiter. Wenn dieses Staatsleben keinen Anspruch macht nach beiden Seiten hin, wenn es das bloße Rechtsleben verkörpert, dann bringt es das zum Ausdruck, was hier in der physischen Welt das Verhältnis begründet von Mensch zu Mensch, jenes Verhältnis, das alle Menschen gleich vor dem Gesetze macht. Nur ein solches Staatsleben entwickelt eine wirkliche Freiheit des Gedankens. Und als ein drittes Glied des gesunden sozialen Organismus muß sich das auf sich gestellte Geistesleben ausbilden, das auch aus der Wirklichkeit des Geistes heraus schöpfen kann, das zu wirklicher Geisteswissenschaft vordringen muß. — Was in den Tiefen der Menschenseelen heute erstrebt wird, ist schon der gesunde soziale Organismus, der aber dreigliedrig sein muß.

So kann man auch die Dinge betrachten, wie wir sie heute betrachtet haben. Und Geisteswissenschaft soll in diesem Sinne, wie ich oft betont habe, ernst und tief genommen werden, nicht als etwas, das man nur so wie eine Sonntagnachmittagspredigt hinnimmt; denn das ist bürgerlich. Bürgerlich ist es, neben seinem Wirtschaftsleben, das man zur Not nur für den kleinen Kreis selbst besorgt, wenigstens selbst zu besorgen glaubt, und neben dem Staatsleben, für das man den Staat sorgen läßt, auch so ein bißchen Geistesleben zu entwickeln, je nachdem man sich für aufgeklärt hält, indem man zum Pfarrer geht, oder indem man sich der Theosophie widmet oder dergleichen. Es ist gut bürgerlich. Und eminent bürgerlich hat gerade die theosophische Bewegung das Geistesleben in der neueren Zeit hingestellt. Man kann sich nichts Bürgerlicheres denken als diese moderne theosophische Bewegung. Sie ist so recht aus dem Bedürfnisse des Bürgertums als eine sektiererische Geistesbewegung hervorgewachsen. Das war der Kampf, seit wir versucht haben, aus dieser theosophischen Bewegung etwas herauszuarbeiten, was durchdrungen sein sollte vom modernen Menschheitsbewußtsein und als Bewegung in die Menschheit hineingestellt werden sollte. Immer war der Widerstand des bürgerlichen sektiererischen Elementes da, das tief verankert ist im Oberflächenteil der menschlichen Seele. Aber man muß darüber hinauskommen. Das anthroposophische Streben muß als ein solches erfaßt werden, welches von der Zeit gefordert wird, welches uns nicht kleine, sondern große Interessen geben soll, welches uns nicht bloß dazu anleitet, uns in kleinen Zirkeln zusammenzusetzen und Zyklen zu lesen. Es ist ja gut, wenn man Zyklen liest; ich bitte Sie, durchaus jetzt nicht daraus die Schlußfolgerung zu ziehen, daß nun keine Zyklen in der Zukunft gelesen werden sollen; aber man soll dabei nicht stehenbleiben. Man soll das, was in den Zyklen steht, wirklich ins Menschenleben einführen — aber nicht so, wie sich manche es vorstellen, sondern so, daß man zunächst das Verhältnis zum Bewußtsein der neueren Zeit sucht. Nicht darauf kommt es an, wenn ich so etwas sage, daß jetzt daraus das Bewußtsein erwächst: also wir sollen nicht sektiererisch Zyklen lesen, lesen wir also keine mehr; sondern darauf kommt es an, daß wir erst recht Zyklen lesen, aber dann auch sehen, daß das, was in den Zyklen enthalten ist, auch wirklich in unsere Lebenskraft übergeht. Dann wird das die beste soziale Nahrung für die in der Gegenwart strebenden Seelen sein. Denn so ist schon alles gedacht, und so ist schließlich auch unser Bau gedacht, namentlich in dem, was künstlerisch mit ihm angestrebt wird. Er ist gedacht durchaus im Sinne der neueren Zeit, und er kann in einer anderen als in dieser Art in der Gegenwart ganz und gar nicht gedacht werden. Ich weiß nicht, ob Sie sich schon überlegt haben, wie gerade dieser Bau auch in sozialer Beziehung ein Produkt der allerallerneuesten Zeit ist, und wie zu ihm gehört, daß man auch im Sinne dieser allerallerneuesten Zeit strebt. Denken Sie sich doch einmal: ein Bau, dessen Inneres gar keinen Zweck hat, oder wenigstens ein größerer Teil des Inneren gar keinen Zweck hat, wenn er für sich selbst dastehen soll. Er muß im Zusammenhange mit der ganzen übrigen Weltordnung stehen, wenn er überhaupt einen Sinn haben soll; selbst bei Tag würde es oben in der Kuppel stockfinster sein, die finsterste Nacht würde sein, wenn nicht von außen das elektrische Licht hineinkäme. Ganz angewiesen auf das, was draußen geschieht, ist gerade dieser Bau mit Bezug auf so wichtige Dinge, daß man in ihm etwas sieht. Er ist so recht herausgeboren aus dem Allerallerneuesten. Daher muß er sich auch im Zusammenhange entwickeln mit dem, was aber auch jetzt innerlich, nicht an der Oberfläche der Seele, die allerneueste Zeit gerade als Geistiges anstreben muß,

So könnten Sie sich vieles überlegen, was mit diesem Bau im Zusammenhange steht. Der Bau ist schon ein Repräsentant des modernsten Geisteslebens, und wird nur dann richtig verstanden, wenn man den Gedanken hat, daß er wie eine Art Kometenstern ist, der aber einen Schwanz nachziehen muß. Der Schwanz besteht darin, daß nun wirklich das, was gefühlsmäßig von der Anthroposophie ausstrahlt, in den Menschenseelen lebt. Aber es möchte leicht geschehen, daß viele sich so ähnlich zu diesem Bau stellen mit Bezug auf das, was ich eben gesagt habe, wie sich manche Katholiken, gerade führende Katholiken, zur modernen Astronomie gestellt haben, als sie die Kometen zu gewöhnlichen Weltenkörpern gemacht haben, während sie vorher als Zuchtruten galten, die von irgendeinem sinnlich gedachten Geist zum Himmelsfenster herausgehalten werden. Da kam eine Zeit, wo die katholisch orientierten Führer nicht mehr ableugnen konnten, daß es mit den Kometen eine ähnliche Bewandtnis habe, wie mit den anderen Himmelskörpern; da kamen sie auf ein Auskunftsmittel. Einige ganz Gescheite sagten: Nun ja, der Komet besteht aus dem Kern und aus dem Schwanz; für den Kern können wir nicht ableugnen, daß er ein Himmelskörper ist wie ein anderer, aber der Schwanz ist es nicht, der hat noch denselben Ursprung, den man früher gedacht hat. — So könnte es auch sein, daß die Menschen das Bewußtsein bekommen: Nun ja, den Bau wollen wir noch gelten lassen; aber all die vertrackten Empfindungen, die sich an den Bau als Schwanz angliedern sollen, von denen wollen wir nichts wissen. Aber dieser Bau gehört als ein Komet mit seinem Schwanz zusammen, und es wird notwendig sein, daß alles, was mit ihm in Verbindung steht, auch mit ihm in Verbindung empfunden wird.

Fourth Lecture

In the course of these reflections, I have pointed out how, in the course of human evolution, it becomes apparent that something quite different can be happening in the innermost depths of the human soul, in the unconscious inner life of the human soul, than what is happening on the surface of this human soul. As we have often heard, human beings can believe that they are striving for this or that, while in reality they have impulses in the depths of their souls that strive for something completely different. This truth is particularly relevant to our time. Today we see a whole class of human beings with a certain kind of will, which we have already spoken about several times. But it is precisely here that we see how, on the surface of the soul, where consciousness develops in the age of consciousness, something completely different is formed than in the depths of the soul, where impulses strive for realization, of which nothing real yet exists in consciousness today.

If we look at the modern proletariat in relation to what it is conscious of, we find in this consciousness, as we have already mentioned several times, three things; three things that fill this proletarian consciousness today. Firstly, there is the materialist conception of history; secondly, the view that everything that happens in the world has in reality been based on class struggles up to now, that everywhere there are only class struggles and that what people believe to be happening is only a reflection of class struggles; and thirdly, there is what I have already characterized to you on several occasions, the theory of surplus value, the theory of the surplus value produced by the unpaid labor of the workers, which constitutes the profit extracted from the workers by the employers without the workers receiving any compensation for it. These three elements essentially constitute what, in the consciousness of the proletariat, constitutes the impulses from which the modern social movement draws its forces, however they may be judged.

This describes what lives in the consciousness of the proletariat. But in the consciousness of the present human race, toward which the feelings of the proletariat are essentially pushing, three other things live in the deeper layers of the soul, even of the proletariat. But the world today knows very little about these three other things. The world strives little for self-knowledge, and therefore knows nothing of what actually strives in the depths of the soul to be realized historically. These three other things are: first, a penetration of spiritual life appropriate to the modern age, that which can be called spiritual science in one way or another; second, freedom of thought, freedom of thought; third, socialism in the true and genuine sense. The proletariat also strives for these three things. But it knows nothing of this. And its instincts follow the other three things I have mentioned, which are active in the superficial part of the soul life, in the actual consciousness.

Now, it is precisely this difference between conscious proletarian striving and subconscious impulses that makes it particularly clear that there is a complete contradiction between the two. Take the materialist conception of history. It emerged from the materialism of modern times in general, which has been developing in human evolution for four centuries. This materialism first asserted itself among the leading classes of humanity in the field of natural science, then spread to science in general, and among the modern proletariat, which has basically only adopted the bourgeois, scientifically oriented way of thinking, materialism has then transformed itself into the materialist conception of history. This materialistic conception of history proceeds from the assumption that all spiritual life is, in a sense, merely the smoke that rises from the processes of economic life, from everything that takes place in the economic sphere of human existence. In the historical course of human life, only that which takes place in the sphere of commodity production, of production, trade, and consumption is real. consumption, and depending on how people have managed their affairs in one way or another in a given age, they have believed this or that in religion, cultivated this or that form of art, regarded this or that as their right, as their morality. Spiritual life is essentially an ideology, that is, it has no reality in itself, it is a reflection of what is happening outside in the form of economic struggles. What people have absorbed into their ideas, what they feel artistically, what they express in their moral will, can in turn have an effect on economic struggles. But in the end, all spiritual life is a reflection of external economic life. This is essentially what is called a materialistic view of history. If human life is only a reflection of purely external, material economic forces, and if, in addition, the world is only sensual, and human thoughts are only something that reflects the sensual, and if human beings then want to live only in such ideas, want to perceive as real only what appears and reveals itself in the sensory world—then this is a turning away from all real spiritual life; it means that human beings renounce the recognition of anything as an independent, self-existent spirit.

Thus, recent times have directed their efforts toward gathering more and more evidence in order to be able to assert that there is no independent spirit living in the supersensible world, that there is no spiritual world at all. This takes place on the surface of human soul life. This essentially constitutes the content of the modern consciousness since humanity entered the age of consciousness. But in the deepest foundations of the soul life, modern humanity is striving toward the spirit. One might say that it has an innermost, deepest need for spirit. A glance at the development of human history shows this. We have often looked back at the special spirit of the first post-Atlantean cultural period, at the special spirit of the Indian cultural period; now we have characterized this Indian cultural period from various points of view. What we have learned about it will tell those who are able to look at things impartially that such a way of living spiritually, as found in the ancient Indian cultural period, which can only be found in spiritual science, that such a type of spiritual life is based on unconscious intuitions; note well, on unconscious intuitions, for it was, after all, an atavistic spiritual life. So we can say that in this first post-Atlantean cultural period, we have unconscious intuitions as the source of spiritual life.

If we then go further and look at the original Persian spiritual life and ask again: Where does it flow from? — we will find that this original Persian spiritual life flows from unconscious inspirations.

The third, the Egyptian-Chaldean spiritual life, flows from unconscious imaginations. This Egyptian-Chaldean spiritual life already protrudes into the earliest historical times, and if one looks at history with sufficient impartiality, one can already see that in the ancient science of the Egyptians and in the ancient science of the Chaldeans, one was dealing with unconscious imaginations that lived in the soul life.

Then came the Greek-Latin spiritual life. In the Greek-Latin spiritual life, imaginations still remained, but they were permeated with concepts, with ideas. That was the essential feature that distinguished Greek life, that the Greeks were the first in human evolution to have what had not previously been present in human evolution as a spiritual impulse. The Greeks already had ideas, concepts. I have described this in more detail in my “Riddles of Philosophy.” But all the concepts of the Greeks were permeated with imagery, with imaginations. You don't notice that today, especially in that peculiar Greek culture that our high school and university education talks about. When the Greeks uttered the word “idea,” for example, what they saw in their mind's eye was not something as abstract as what comes to our minds today when we utter the word “idea.” When the Greek uttered the word “idea,” he had the notion that something visionary was floating before him, but that it was nevertheless clearly grasped in a concept. It was something vivid. An idea is at the same time a face. In Greek, one could not really have spoken of “ideology,” although the word is modeled on Greek; at least, one could not have spoken of it in such a way that one would have felt the same thing that one feels today when one speaks of ideology; for the Greeks, their ideas were something essential, something permeated by images.

I. Primitive Indian cultural period: unconscious intuitions as the source of spiritual life

II. Primitive Persian cultural period: unconscious inspirations as the source of spiritual life

III. Egyptian-Chaldean cultural period: unconscious imaginations as the source of spiritual life

IV. Greek-Latin cultural period: unconscious imaginations with concepts

V. New era: concepts striving for imaginations

Now, what is peculiar is that in our fifth post-Atlantean era, imaginations have been lost and concepts have remained for the consciousness soul. Our modern spiritual life is so sober, so dry; everything pictorial has been squeezed out of this spiritual life, and what remains is abstraction, which people who want to be educated love so much. The modern age lives, so to speak, on abstraction and wants to reduce everything to some abstract concept. It is precisely in what we call bourgeois practical life that abstract concepts reign supreme in the most comprehensive sense. But already, once again, the depths of the human soul, the subconscious impulses of the human soul, are striving for imagination. So that one can say: concepts that strive for imagination.

Our spiritual science meets this striving for imagination halfway. But the vast majority of humanity still knows nothing of what lies deep within their souls. Therefore, they see what spiritual life is in mere concepts, in mere ideas, and are quite helpless with these ideas. For concepts as such have no real content in themselves. And it has been the fate of the leading circles up to now that they have developed more and more a certain preference for purely conceptual thinking. But this preference for purely conceptual thinking produced something else. This purely conceptual thinking is helpless; it produces a striving for a connection with that reality which cannot be rejected because it conforms to the senses: to external sensory reality. This belief in mere external sensory reality has essentially arisen from the conceptual helplessness of modern humanity.

This helplessness of conceptual life is expressed in all areas of intellectual life. In science, the primary aim is to experiment in order to discover something through experimentation that is not otherwise given in the sensory world, because if one merely processes the sensory world according to one's ideas, one cannot go beyond this sensory world. For the concepts themselves contain no reality.

In art, people became more and more accustomed to worshipping the model, to keeping themselves pure in relation to what the external object provides. And it has essentially been the fate of the leading circles of humanity to drift more and more toward a kind of mere study of external sensory reality in art. They strove more and more to grasp external sensory reality. The ability to create something out of the spirit and to present it through the means of art was increasingly lost. People strove only for naturalism, for an imitation of what nature as such presents in the external world, because nothing sprang forth from the abstract life of the spirit that could be shaped independently.

Take the development of the newer arts, for example, and you will find this to be true everywhere. These newer arts strove, as far as this is possible, more and more toward naturalism, toward a representation of what one sees and perceives externally. This culminated in what came to be called Impressionism. Those who strove for artistic expression before Impressionism attempted to reproduce some external object in art. But then came those who drew the ultimate conclusions from all this and said: Yes, if I really have a person or a forest in front of me and I paint this person or this forest, I am not reproducing my impression at all; because I am standing in front of a forest, I am standing in front of a person — and at the moment when I am standing in front of the forest, the sun is shining on it in a certain way, but after a few moments the sunlight is completely different. What am I supposed to capture if I want to be naturalistic? I cannot capture what the outside world shows me, because this outside world has a different face every moment. I want to paint a person who is smiling—but the next moment he has a grumpy face! What am I supposed to do? Should I paint the grumpy face over the smiling one? If I want to depict what external objects are in their permanence in time, I would have to force the objects themselves. Natural objects cannot be forced, but human objects would have to be forced, if they are sitting as models, to maintain the pose of their expression as much as possible. But then, when one tries to imitate nature, they give the impression of being seized by a stiffening, if one wants to make them naturalistic. So that doesn't work. - And so they became Impressionists, who only wanted to capture the immediate, fleeting impression. But then you no longer have to be completely naturalistic, but must use all kinds of means by which you do not imitate nature, but evoke the impression that nature makes on you in a moment of revelation. And that is where the cliff arose; in order to be truly naturalistic, one wanted to become impressionistic; and lo and behold, one could no longer be naturalistic in impressionism. Now the whole thing turned around. Now some no longer tried to convey impressions, no longer tried to capture the external impression, but rather what arose within them, however primitive it might be; they sought to capture the inner life that arose within them. And these became expressionists.

We could illustrate the same process in the realm of moral and even legal life; everywhere we see this striving arising from a preference for abstract intellectual life. One need only look at the development of modern humanity in the right way to see that this striving for abstraction is inherent everywhere. What has become of it in the modern proletariat? When it was put to work at the machine, this modern proletariat was harnessed to modern, soulless capitalism, its entire destiny confined to economic life. The same way of thinking that led the members of the bourgeois circles to naturalism led the proletariat to the doctrine expressed in the materialist conception of history. Everywhere you look, you see that the proletariat has merely drawn the ultimate conclusions from what has developed within bourgeois circles—the ultimate conclusions from which these bourgeois circles recoil so terribly.

How did bourgeois circles deal with religion? In one area of bourgeois circles, for example, they dealt with religion in the following way: in the past, people at least had vague, mystical ideas about the mystery of Christ. They had formed various ideas about how the Christ lived within Jesus. It was only in the course of the 19th century that it became apparent that it was no longer possible to form any conception of how Christ lived in Jesus from the abstract life of the spirit. So people limited themselves to what took place within the sensory world at the beginning of Christian development, to mere Jesusology. Jesus was increasingly regarded as an external human being. Christ, who belongs to the supersensible world, disappeared more and more. The abstract soul life found no way to Christ and was content with Jesus. What did the proletarian consciousness make of this? Proletarian consciousness said: Why do we need a special religious view of Jesus at all? The bourgeoisie has already made Jesus into the simple man from Nazareth. He is one of us, of course, if he is the simple man from Nazareth. We are dependent on economic life, why shouldn't he have been dependent on economic life? Does anyone still have the right to attribute a special mission to him, to call him the founder of a whole new era of humanity, since he was only the simple man from Nazareth who, at that time, out of the economic circumstances in which he found himself, claimed what he claimed? — One must study the economic processes at the time when Christianity began; and one must study the way in which a simple craftsman who had run away from his trade and developed all kinds of ideas while wandering around, in accordance with the economic order of Palestine at that time, developed his ideas. From this one will then see why Jesus claimed what he claimed. The ultimate consequence of modern Protestant theology is also the materialistic teaching about Jesus of the modern proletariat, which no longer has any sustaining power for human beings.

With regard to the second, freedom of thought, inner initiative of thought, it is again the subconscious depths of the soul of modern humanity that strives for this. That which lives on the surface of the soul life in consciousness pretends that it must strive for the opposite, and indeed strives for the opposite. Hence the subconscious rumbles in radical opposition, which finds expression in our terrible contemporary struggles. The leading circles of modern society wanted to be free of authority. They have fallen into all kinds of belief in authority. Above all, they have fallen into a blind belief in authority over everything that is in any way connected with the sphere of the state, which has become the highest authority for the bourgeoisie.

What plays a greater role in this modern bourgeoisie than “expert judgment”! People ask for expert judgment and introduce this questioning of expert judgment into their external lives as well. Those who step out into life with a university degree know things; they are asked about God's plans for humanity if they are theologians. If he is a lawyer, he is asked about what is right in human life; if he is a physician, he is asked what can bring healing to human beings; and if he comes from some corner of the philosophy department, he is asked about all kinds of things in the world. Modern humanity, at least a small circle of it, has always smiled when looking at a book by the venerable pre-Kantian philosopher Wolf. And this book is titled something like: “On Nature, on the Human Soul, on the State, on History, and on All Rational Things in General.” One smiles at such a book. But the leading circles of modern times firmly believe that everything that is supposed to be the content of reason for human beings is being concocted in the intellectual laboratories that the state has set up for the people. That is to say, these leading circles have by no means strived for everyone to have their own consciousness, but rather they have strived to standardize consciousness, to arrange it in such a way that it is basically, in the broadest sense, a state consciousness. “State consciousness” has become much more the modern consciousness than people actually believe. People think of the state as their god, who gives them what they need. They do not need to concern themselves further with things, because the state ensures that all reasonable branches of life are regulated.

The proletariat was excluded from state life, with the exception of the few areas where it was allowed to participate in democratic state structures. The proletariat was completely tied to economic life, even with that which defines the whole human being: its labor power. The proletariat, in turn, drew the ultimate conclusion only for its own life. Modern bourgeois man has a sense of statehood, even if he does not always admit it, but he is very fond of exercising state power with this sense of statehood. One does not really need to have “reserve lieutenant and professor” printed on one's cards in order to exercise state power with a sense of statehood; one can do so in quite different ways. But the proletariat had no interest in the state. It was tied into economic life. Therefore, it felt that its feelings were the ultimate consequence of bourgeois feelings, but in accordance with its life. Its consciousness became the class consciousness of the proletariat. And so we see that because this class of the proletariat has nothing to do with the state, this class consciousness is built on internationalism. So these things are necessary. Only the bourgeois could gravitate toward the modern state, because the modern state cares for the bourgeois, and the bourgeois wants to be cared for. But the state did not care for the proletarian. He felt himself to be merely standing within the world insofar as he belonged to his class. And the proletarian class has proceeded in the same way everywhere, through all states. This is why this international proletariat emerged, this international proletariat that felt itself in conscious opposition to everything that was bourgeois and that strove with the same power of consciousness toward the state and toward the factors of the state. And there was an extraordinarily suggestive development of this class consciousness in the proletariat in modern times. I do not know how many of you have attended proletarian meetings. How did these proletarian meetings always end? They always ended with the proletarian imitation of what so many bourgeois events had proclaimed out of their bourgeois interests. How, for example, did bourgeois meetings end in Central Europe? With the imperial salute! Or they began with it. Every proletarian meeting ended with: “Long live international revolutionary social democracy!” One only has to consider what an enormous suggestive power this phrase, heard week after week by the proletariat, has, and how it drives a consciousness of unity through the masses, so that all freedom of thought is naturally driven out. It was firmly rooted in the soul. In earlier times, there were meetings called by bourgeois elements, to which Social Democrats were also invited, albeit fewer and fewer. At the end, the chairman would say: “I ask the Social Democrats to leave first, because I am now going to ask the meeting to rise and shout the imperial salute.” In earlier times, there were proletarian meetings at which bourgeois were allowed to participate in the discussions. At the end, the proletarian chairman would say: “I now ask the gentlemen of the bourgeois class to leave, because we are about to raise the salute to international revolutionary social democracy.” This is how what pervaded the souls as a uniform class consciousness was welded together. The opposite of what lies deep in the hearts of the people, the opposite of the longing for individual freedom of thought, for an individual formation of consciousness! That is the second thing.

The third thing that urges itself to realization in the depths of the modern soul is socialism — socialism, which can be characterized simply by saying that in the age of consciousness, the modern soul strives for the individual to feel himself to be part of the social organism. People want to establish the social organism as such; they want to feel themselves as members of this social organism; they want to be part of it in some way. This means that people want to be imbued with a consciousness that always gives them the feeling as human beings that whatever they do, they do in such a way that they know how much the social organism has a share in them and how much they in turn have a share in the social organism. After all, human beings live within the social organism. But, as I said, today the feeling for the social organism is still only present in the subconscious regions of the soul.

When a painter paints a picture today, he will rightly say: I must be paid for this picture, because I have put my art into it. — What is his art? — His art is something that society, that the social organism, has made possible for him in the first place. Certainly, it depends on his karma, on his previous earthly lives; but people today do not believe in that either, although they are, of course, deceiving themselves. But insofar as we do not consider the share that our individuality, descending from higher regions through birth, gives us in our abilities, we are completely dependent on the social organism in what we can do. But modern man does not take this into account in his consciousness. And so, instead of social feeling, an egoistic, antisocial way of thinking has increasingly developed in consciousness over the last four centuries; the antisocial way of thinking that expresses itself in particular in the fact that everyone thinks first and foremost of themselves and tries to get as much as possible out of the social organism. Few people today feel that they must give back to the social organism everything they have received from it. Especially in the leading bourgeois circles, the greatest conceivable egoism has gradually arisen with regard to intellectual life, an egoism that regards mere intellectual enjoyment as something particularly justified for those who can obtain it. But one has no claim to spiritual enjoyment provided by the social organism if one is not willing to give back to the social organism an equivalent in the place where one has been placed in the world. One must be clear about this.

Now, the proletariat, which has not been allowed to participate in the spiritual part of the social organism, which is harnessed to economic life and soulless capitalism, has only drawn the ultimate conclusion of this bourgeois egoism in the theory of surplus value. The worker sees that he actually produces what is manufactured in the factory, at the machine, so he also wants what comes in for it. He does not want part of it to be taken away and go elsewhere. And because he sees nothing else but the capitalist who puts him at the machine, he naturally believes that all surplus value goes to the capitalist, and must first turn against the capitalist in struggle. Objectively speaking, of course, there is something quite different in what corresponds to so-called surplus value. What is surplus value? Surplus value is everything that is produced by manual labor without compensation for this manual labor. Imagine that there were no surplus value, that everything went to meet the needs of the manual laborer. What would there be then? Obviously, no intellectual culture, no culture at all; there would only be economic life, there would only be what could be brought into being by manual labor. It cannot be a question of the surplus value flowing to manual labor, but only of the surplus value being used in a way that the craftsman can agree with. However, this will only happen if the craftsman is encouraged to understand the paths that surplus value takes.

Here we touch on the point where the bourgeois order of modern times has sinned most. Machines and factories were established, trade was established, capital was put into circulation, workers were placed at the machines and harnessed to the capitalist economic order. That was where they were supposed to work. But no one saw fit to demand anything else from the workers than their labor power. In a healthy social organism, it is not only the worker's labor power that is needed, but also his rest, that is, what remains of his strength after he has worked. And only those capitalists are actually entitled to do so who are just as interested in saving, in the necessary saving of the proletarian's labor power, as they are interested in the economic use of that labor power. Only those capitalists are justified who ensure that, after a certain period of work, the worker can somehow obtain what is generally considered to be human intellectual and other educational assets.

To this end, one must first have these educational assets. The bourgeois social class had developed these educational assets; therefore, it was well able to establish all kinds of popular educational institutions. What has not been done in such soup kitchens of intellectual life! What has not been established in this field! But what consciousness could the proletarian gain from these soup kitchens of intellectual life? None other than that the bourgeoisie were giving him something they had cooked up among themselves. Naturally, he was suspicious: Aha, they want to make me bourgeois by feeding me their pious ideas in the soup kitchen. All these bourgeois welfare movements, by their very nature, are largely to blame for the facts that are now looming so frighteningly on the horizon of social life. What is happening today stems from much more serious underlying causes than is generally believed. I want the surplus value! — that is the selfish principle that appears as the ultimate consequence of bourgeois egoism, which now also wanted the surplus value. Once again, the proletariat draws the ultimate conclusion. And instead of socialism, which lies in the depths of the soul, the doctrine of surplus value, which is antisocial in the most eminent sense, appears on the surface of the soul's life in consciousness. For if everyone reaps what surplus value is, he reaps it for his own egoism.

And so today, my dear friends, we have a socialism that is not socialist, just as we today have a striving for a content of consciousness that is not a content of consciousness, but is the result of the economic relationship of a class of people and is expressed in the class consciousness of the proletariat. And so today we have an intellectual striving that denies the spirit and has found its ultimate consequence in a materialistic view of history.

These things must be understood, otherwise one cannot understand what is happening in the present. And how little were the bourgeois circles inclined to develop a real understanding of the situation in this direction, how little are they inclined to acquire this consciousness today, even though the facts speak so clearly and so urgently.

There will be no other way to replace the antisocial aspirations of today's proletariat with truly social aspirations than by attempting to place economic life on a healthy, independent footing as a member of the social organism, with its own legislation and its own administration, in which the state no longer interferes. In other words, the aim must be that the state is not itself an economic operator in any area. Then what is longed for in the depths of human souls can develop into real socialism in economic life. And we must strive to ensure that the life of the actual political state is separated from this economic life, so that the state in turn makes no claim on economic life or on the actual spiritual life, on cultural life, school life, and so on. If this state life makes no claim on either side, if it embodies the mere life of law, then it expresses what here in the physical world establishes the relationship between human beings, that relationship which makes all human beings equal before the law. Only such a state life develops true freedom of thought. And as a third link in the healthy social organism, spiritual life must develop, which can also draw from the reality of the spirit and must advance to true spiritual science. What is striving in the depths of human souls today is already the healthy social organism, but it must be threefold.

This is also how we can view things as we have viewed them today. And spiritual science, as I have often emphasized, should be taken seriously and deeply in this sense, not as something that is merely accepted like a Sunday afternoon sermon; for that is bourgeois. It is bourgeois to believe that, in addition to one's economic life, which one at best provides for one's own small circle, and in addition to one's civic life, which one leaves to the state to take care of, one should also develop a little spiritual life, depending on how enlightened one considers oneself to be, by going to church or devoting oneself to theosophy or the like. That is good bourgeois behavior. And it is precisely the theosophical movement that has made intellectual life eminently bourgeois in recent times. One cannot imagine anything more bourgeois than this modern theosophical movement. It has grown out of the needs of the bourgeoisie as a sectarian spiritual movement. That has been the struggle since we have attempted to work out of this theosophical movement something that should be permeated by modern human consciousness and placed into humanity as a movement. There has always been resistance from the bourgeois sectarian element, which is deeply rooted in the superficial part of the human soul. But we must overcome this. The anthroposophical striving must be understood as something that is demanded by the times, that should give us not small but great interests, that does not merely lead us to sit together in small circles and read cycles. It is good to read cycles; I beg you not to conclude from this that no cycles should be read in the future, but one should not stop there. One should really introduce what is in the cycles into human life — but not in the way some people imagine, but in such a way that one first seeks the relationship to the consciousness of the modern age. When I say this, it is not important that this now gives rise to the consciousness that we should not read cycles in a sectarian way, and therefore we should not read them anymore. What is important is that we read cycles all the more, but then also see that what is contained in the cycles really passes into our life force. Then this will be the best social nourishment for the souls striving in the present. For everything has already been thought in this way, and ultimately our building has also been thought in this way, especially in what is artistically sought with it. It has been thought entirely in the spirit of the modern age, and it cannot be thought in any other way in the present. I don't know whether you have already considered how this building, in particular, is also a product of the very latest times in social terms, and how it is appropriate that we should strive in the spirit of these very latest times. Just think about it: a building whose interior has no purpose at all, or at least a large part of whose interior has no purpose if it is to stand on its own. It must be connected to the entire rest of the world order if it is to have any meaning at all; even during the day, it would be pitch black inside the dome, and it would be the darkest night if electric light did not come in from outside. This building is completely dependent on what happens outside, and it is so important that people see something in it. It is truly born out of the very latest developments. Therefore, it must also develop in connection with what is now striving inwardly, not on the surface of the soul, but as the very latest spiritual aspiration.

You could think of many things that are connected with this building. The building is already representative of the most modern spiritual life, and can only be properly understood if one thinks of it as a kind of comet, which must trail a tail behind it. The tail consists of the fact that what radiates emotionally from anthroposophy now truly lives in human souls. But it is easy for many to take a similar view of this building in relation to what I have just said, just as some Catholics, especially leading Catholics, took a view of modern astronomy when they made comets into ordinary celestial bodies, whereas previously they were regarded as rods held up to the window of heaven by some spirit conceived in the senses. Then a time came when Catholic leaders could no longer deny that comets were similar to other celestial bodies, so they came up with a way to explain it. Some very clever people said: Well, the comet consists of the nucleus and the tail; we cannot deny that the nucleus is a celestial body like any other, but the tail is not, it still has the same origin that was previously thought. — So it could also be that people come to realize: Well, we will accept the structure; but we want nothing to do with all the complicated sensations that are supposed to be attached to the structure as a tail. But this structure belongs to a comet with its tail, and it will be necessary that everything connected with it is also perceived as connected with it.