The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Sixteenth Lecture

[ 1 ] My lecture today will be episodic in nature, a digression from our main discussion, because I would like our English friends—who will soon be returning to their country—to be able to take as much as possible back with them from here. That is why I am structuring these lectures so that one point or another can serve to support the effectiveness that is necessary. And today, I would like—first and foremost from a historical perspective, rather than focusing so much on the present (which we can perhaps address tomorrow)—to explore some aspects of imperialism with you from a historical and spiritual-historical standpoint. Imperialism is, after all, a phenomenon that has been discussed repeatedly in recent times, and it is discussed in such a way that those who speak of it possess a more or less clear awareness of its connection to the overall social phenomena of the present. But when such matters are discussed today, people do not take into account—or at least not sufficiently—that we are living within the historical course of humanity, that we are in a very specific epoch of historical development, and that this epoch of human development can only be understood if one knows where the phenomena that surround us today—and in which we are currently living—originate. Essentially, what first becomes apparent is the form of imperialism that is more effective today—and will be more effective in the future—whose main proponents will be the Anglo-American population and which, strictly speaking, is a very recent phenomenon in terms of its designation; this imperialism manifests itself as economic imperialism. But the essential point is that in everything that is said about matters related to this economic imperialism, fundamentally nothing is true; rather, everything is false—everything, I would say, hangs in the air and, hanging in the air, more or less consciously leads to untruth. But in order to realize how, in our time, the realities are entirely different from what is said about them, it is necessary to take a deeper look at the historical course of these events.

[ 2 ] In light of today’s realities, I need only mention this one thing to characterize, to some extent, the judgment of the public at large. We have, after all, witnessed how Woodrow Wilson was initially glorified in various parts of Europe and, most recently, even in Germany itself. Our Swiss friends know very well that, even during the glorification of Woodrow Wilson, I consistently spoke out against him in the strongest terms here in Switzerland as well, for what Woodrow Wilson is today, he was, of course, already at the time when he was being glorified by the whole world. Today there are already reports—though I do not mean to suggest that this is the absolute truth—that in America there are plans to declare Woodrow Wilson unfit to govern, that there are doubts about his judgment. Public opinion, as it is circulating around the world today, is sufficiently characterized by such things, particularly in terms of its values.

[ 3 ] And one need only recall a second fact. Over the past four to five years, an extraordinary amount has been said about all sorts of noble ideals: self-determination of peoples, and so on. — None of these things were true; for what lay behind them was something entirely different—namely, questions of power, of course. And for anyone who wishes to understand, the key is to trace back from what is said, thought, and judged to the realities themselves. And so, especially when a term like “imperialism”— “Imperial Federation” has been the official term in England since the beginning of the 20th century—when such things are discussed, one must take into account that these represent the ultimate consequences, the late products of development, and that they trace back to times long past and can only be explained through what a genuine historical analysis can offer.

[ 4 ] We do not wish to go back as far as one could in the intellectual history of human development; but we do wish to go back at least a few millennia before the Christian era. There we find, first of all, imperialist empires in Asia, and a variant of such imperialist empires in Egypt. The historically well-known Persian Empire, for example, is quite characteristic of the Oriental impulse, but the Assyrian Empire is particularly so. Now, one cannot fully understand this first phase of imperialism by tracing it only through the final, historically documented stages of the Assyrian Empire, because one simply cannot grasp the driving forces at work in the Assyrian Empire without going back to earlier Oriental conditions. Even in China, whose entire organization dates back to very distant, long-past times, so much has changed that one can no longer recognize in this organization—which existed until recently—the true character of an Oriental imperialism, as it certainly existed in accordance with the Oriental Empire. However, one can still gain insight into what actually underlies it by examining the conditions that are historically known.

[ 5 ] One cannot fully understand the entire nature of Oriental, or ancient, imperialism unless one knows what relationship existed in the public consciousness of the population of a given territory—let us say, an empire—to what we would today call the ruler of that empire or the ruling class of that empire. For, of course, our words—such as “ruler” or “king” or the like—no longer express what was felt about the ruler or the rulers back then. It is difficult today to form a conception of the entire world of feeling that prevailed in the Eastern empires three to four millennia before the Christian era, because it is difficult today to take into account how people of that ancient time conceived of the nature of the spiritual world in relation to the physical world. Today, most people—if they think about a spiritual world at all—imagine this spiritual world as existing somewhere far away in an afterlife or the like. And when we speak of the spiritual world—as we will, of course, have to do again in the future, as a world that exists just as much among us as the sensory world—then everything that has arisen in more recent times, which has led, for example, to Protestant consciousness, comes into conflict with this. For in earlier times, the essential point was that no distinction was made at all between the physical world and the spiritual world.

[ 6 ] This is so very true that when one speaks of things relating to those earlier times, people today can hardly imagine anything concrete—so different was the worldview of ancient people from that of modern people. What was physically present—ruling people, a ruling caste, enslaved people, subjugated people—that was reality; it was not something one called “physical reality,” but rather it was reality itself; it was, at the same time, both physical and spiritual reality. And the ruler of the Eastern empires—what was he? The ruler of the Eastern empires was God. And among the vast population, there was no god beyond the clouds in earlier times—I am always speaking of earlier times— there was no choir of spirits for the people that in turn surrounded the highest God; those were later conceptions that arose in the course of earthly history. Rather, what we would today call ministers or courtiers—a term used somewhat disparagingly or even respectfully—were beings of a divine nature. For it was clearly understood that through the mystery training these people had undergone, they had become something higher than ordinary human beings. People looked up to them, just as the Protestant consciousness looks up to its God, or as certain, more liberal circles look up to their invisible angels and the like. For the peoples of the ancient Orient, there were no separate invisible angels or a God who was invisible in the supersensible realm. Everything that was spiritual lived within human beings. An human soul lived within the ordinary person. Within what we would today call a ruler lived a divine soul, a God.

[ 7 ] Today, we can no longer conceive of these ideas of an existing, real kingdom of God that is at the same time a physical kingdom. The notion that, say, the king possessed real divine power and divine dignity is, of course, considered absurd today, but it was once a reality in Eastern imperial systems. At first, people did not speak of something that could be grasped only in the mind as such.

[ 8 ] A variant, I said, existed in Egyptian culture, for there is indeed a transition to a later period. So if we go back to the earliest forms of imperialism, this imperialism stems from the fact that the king, the ruler, is God—the God who truly appeared physically on earth, the Son of Heaven who truly appeared physically on earth, and even the Father of Heaven. It is so paradoxical to modern people that it seems hardly believable, but it is true. From this, however, arose what can still be observed in Assyrian documents regarding the way imperialist conquests were justified: they were simply carried out. The right to such conquests stemmed from the need to expand the kingdom of God farther and farther. Once a territory had been conquered and the conquered people had thus become subjects, they were required to worship the conqueror as their god. In those ancient times, no one gave any thought to the spread of religious worldviews. Why would that have been necessary? After all, everything was conceived as being realized within the physical world. If the person in question—who belonged to the conquered territory—externally acknowledged the other, who was the conqueror, and followed him, then everything was in order, for he could believe whatever he wanted. Faith—which was a matter of personal opinion—was not interfered with at all, especially in ancient times. That was not a concern at all.

[ 9 ] That was the first form in which imperialism emerged. The second form was one in which the ruler—the one who was to assume a ruling, leading role—was not God himself, but rather the one sent by God or inspired by God, the one imbued with the divine. In the earliest forms of imperialism, one was dealing with realities. That is the essential point. The first phase of imperialism: one was dealing with realities.

[ 10 ] When such an ancient Eastern ruler appeared among his people, he appeared in his regalia, because, as a god, he was entitled to wear such garments. Those were the garments of a god. That is what a god looked like. This meant nothing more than that among the gods, this was the fashion in which the ruler appeared. And those who were his paladins were not merely officials or anything of the sort, but rather higher beings who surrounded him and who, by virtue of their nature as higher beings, did what they did.

[ 11 ] Then came the time when, as I said, the ruler and those who were his paladins were presented as messengers of God, as those imbued with the divine, as representatives. This is still very evident in the writings of Dionysius the Areopagite. Read his writings to see how he describes the entire hierarchy—from deacons, archdeacons, bishops, and archbishops—all the way up through the entire hierarchy of the Church. How does he portray this? Dionysius the Areopagite presents the whole picture in such a way that this earthly ecclesiastical hierarchy is a reflection of what God is in the supernatural realm with His primordial forces, archangels, and angels. So that we already have the heavenly hierarchy above and its reflection, the earthly hierarchy, below. Thus, the members of the earthly hierarchy—the deacons and archdeacons—put on their vestments or perform their rites because these are signs, because they are symbols. In the first phase, one deals with realities; in the second phase, one deals with signs and symbols. Of course, this, too, has been more or less forgotten. For in the general consciousness of humanity today—even among the Catholic population—there is little remembrance that deacons, parish priests, deans, bishops, and archbishops are the representatives, the vicars, of the heavenly hierarchies. But it has simply fallen into oblivion.

[ 12 ] Now, with this advance of imperialism, a split emerged—I would say, a genuine split. On the one hand, that which held leadership and dominion shone more like a divine messenger, like the priesthood, where priests are kings; on the other hand, it took on a more secular character, though still by the grace of God, always as those appointed and designated by God for that purpose. Essentially, these are just two variants. And we then have these two variants in historical development: the church communities and the imperial communities.

[ 13 ] Something like this would have been unthinkable in the early days of imperialism, when everything was physical reality. But in the second phase of imperialism, the two diverged. One was more secular, yet still a messenger of God; the other was more ecclesiastical, also a messenger of God. This extends back to the Middle Ages; and, I would say, in a characteristic historical phenomenon, this “living in the outer realm, in outer reality” of the kings sent by God, the paladins sent by God, and so on, was actually preserved until the year 1806—though by then it had already been reduced to a shadow existence. Externally, of course, there was the Roman Church with its expansion; that was more imbued with the priestly character. But what was preserved throughout the entire Middle Ages—what strictly maintained the character of the divine emissary here on the physical earth throughout the entire Middle Ages—is, as I said, the so-called “Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation,” which did not disappear until 1806 . That was the name given to what existed in Central Europe as a kind of empire: the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation. In the word “Holy,” you still have a hint of what was divine on Earth in ancient times; “Roman” signifies the origin, where it came from; “German Nation” is what it was superimposed upon—the more worldly aspect upon which it was superimposed.

[ 14 ] And so, in the second phase of imperialism, we no longer have merely the anointed imperialism of the Church, but rather the intermingling of the divine and secular anointed within the empire. This begins as early as the ancient Roman Empire in pre-Christian times and extends into the late Middle Ages. What emerged as imperialism—the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation—always had a dual character. Just consider that, in the end, it traces back to Charlemagne. But Charlemagne was crowned in Rome by the Pope. Thus, even outwardly, the royal dignity was made into a symbol, so that what exists here on the physical earth is no longer reality. The people of the Middle Ages did not worship Charlemagne or Otto I as gods, as was the case in ancient times, but they saw them as people sent by God. And this had to be constantly reaffirmed. Of course, this lived on in people’s consciousness with ever-diminishing intensity. But even when it became externalized, it still retained, at least in the sign and the symbol, a symbolic reality. These emperors of the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation traveled to Rome to have the Pope place the crown upon their heads. Thus, in the year 1000, the Pope also consecrated the Hungarian Stephen I as King of Hungary. That which reigns in the world is anointed—and thereby granted authority—by that which is spiritual or divine.

[ 15 ] But what thereby enters people’s consciousness, in turn, leads them to believe that there is a justification for including other people in this realm—which, after all, has been anointed by the gods themselves through human beings— which is why even Dante holds the view that the Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation is, in essence, entitled to rule the entire world. It is precisely in this that we find, in Dante’s work, the formula of imperialism.

[ 16 ] In the legends and traditions in which historical events crystallize in people’s consciousness, things are generally expressed that must be viewed from a wide variety of perspectives, not merely from a single one. One could say: In the 11th and 12th centuries, there was still a strong awareness in Europe—though no longer a clear one, merely a sense of it, yet one that was very much present—that once, in very ancient times, over in the East, there had lived people on Earth, on the physical Earth, who were themselves gods. People did not think this was superstition—oh no—but rather they reasoned: Such gods can no longer live on Earth because the Earth has become so corrupt. What made humans into gods has been lost; the “Holy Grail” has been lost; and now, in the Middle Ages, it can only be attained in the way that Parzival attains it: One seeks the path to find God within, whereas in the past God was a reality within the kingdom. Now the kingdom is merely a collection of symbols and signs, and one must find God through these symbols and signs.

[ 17 ] Of all the things that once existed, only remnants remain. Reality becomes blurred. Remnants remain—remnants of the most diverse kinds. While, as a rule, as long as things are realities, they are unambiguous in the world, they subsequently become ambiguous. And so diversity in Europe arose out of that former unambiguity. As long as the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation held significance in people’s consciousness, the representative of this Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation was, so to speak, powerful enough to subdue the individual angelic symbols that were the territorial princes; for there was still an awareness that he indeed had a right to do so. But his right was based, more or less, on something ideal. That gradually lost its significance. As a result, the territorial princes remained. And in the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation, we have, so to speak, something that gradually squeezes out its actual inner substance, leaving only the outer shell behind. The awareness that earthly human beings are sent by God is being lost. And the expression of the fact that people can no longer conceive of earthly human beings as being sent by God is precisely Protestantism. Protestantism is the protest against the real significance of earthly human beings sent by God.

[ 18 ] If the principle of Protestantism had been consistently and fully implemented, no crowned or princely head would ever again have been able to call himself “by the grace of God.” But these things always remained as remnants. These remnants persisted until 1918, when they finally disappeared. These remnants, which had already lost all inner meaning, were still present as outward appearances. These German territorial princes were still there as outward appearances; they had significance only in those bygone days when they were symbols of an inspiring kingdom of heaven.

[ 19 ] Thus, other remnants persist, and one is not even aware of how they have survived as such. It was not all that long ago that a pastoral letter was published by a Central European bishop—or perhaps it was an archbishop. This pastoral letter stated, in essence, that the Catholic priest is more powerful than Jesus Christ, for the simple reason that when the Catholic priest performs transubstantiation at the altar, Jesus Christ must become present in the Most Holy Sacrament, in the Host. Transubstantiation must truly take place through the power of the priest. That is to say, the act performed by the priest compels Jesus Christ to be present on the altar. Thus, the more powerful one is not Jesus Christ, but rather the one who performs transubstantiation at the altar!

[ 20 ] If we wish to understand such a matter—which, as mentioned, appeared in a pastoral letter just a few years ago—we must look not to the era of the second wave of imperialism, but to the era of the first wave of imperialism, since, in general, much from that first wave of imperialism has been preserved within the Catholic Church and its institutions. Therein lies a remnant of that consciousness that those who rule on earth are gods, while Jesus Christ is merely the Son of God. This is what is written in such a pastoral letter; of course, for a Protestant consciousness, this is as impossible as it is, after all, impossible for a person today to believe that millennia ago, people saw God in their ruler. But all of these are, in fact, real historical factors; they are real facts—facts that played a role in historical development and in historical reality, and traces of which remain to this day.

[ 21 ] And so earlier realities play a significant role in later manifestations. Not that the worldview always remains the same; but the customs that arise from these worldviews—those remain the same. Consider how Islam spread. Certainly, Muhammad himself did not say, “Muhammad is your God”—as an Eastern priest-ruler would have had to say millennia ago. He limited himself to saying what was already more in keeping with the times: “There is one God, and Muhammad is His prophet.” — Thus, in the consciousness of the people, he had already assumed the role of God’s messenger, the second phase of imperialism. As for the manner in which Islam has spread, however, the first phase still applies. For Muslims have never been as intolerant toward those of other faiths as those who place great importance on religious confession. Muslims have been content to conquer others and make them subjects, just as in ancient times, when creed did not matter either, because ultimately it was irrelevant what one believed, as long as one acknowledged God. The manner in which Islam spread is characteristic of the first phase of imperialism.

[ 22 ] And something has survived from the first phase of imperialism—strongly influenced by the second—in Russian despotism, in tsarism. There is certainly, in the entire way in which the Tsar was viewed by those who recognized him—at least in the mood of the spirit—something that goes back to the first phase of imperialism. That is why it mattered so little in Russia that what existed in the consciousness of the Russian people themselves merged with what emanated from tsarism; for in reality, the rule of tsarism was based on Germanic and Mongolian elements, not on the elements of the truly Russian peasantry. Thus, the remnants of earlier times remained. Even over shorter periods, one can see how the remnants of earlier times persisted.

[ 23 ] Now, the third form of imperialism. It has, in fact, only been formulated since the 20th century, ever since Chamberlain and his associates coined the term “Imperial Federation”; but its roots go back even further, to the second half of the 17th century, when that great upheaval took place in England, through which—in fact, for all Western regions with an Anglo-American population—the monarchy—that which was once God, then the Anointed One—was reduced to a mere shadow existence, to a mere, one cannot say, a decoration, but rather something merely tolerated, while in fact, since the 17th century, what is publicly desired has been passing to the entire population—certainly initially stratified by class, but ultimately to the entire population.

[ 24 ] Now, the Anglo-American population imposes different preconditions on this, shall we say, “will of the people”—the electoral system derived from the people—than, for example, the French, the Romance, or indeed the Latin-speaking populations do. The Latin peoples, especially the French, certainly went through the Revolution in the 18th century; but under the influence of what I described to you here a few hours ago, the French people today are, as a people, actually more royal than any other. After all, one is not “royal” merely because a king is at the head. Certainly, a person cannot walk around very well if his head has been cut off; but the French people are royal, imperialistic, even without having a king. It comes down to the state of mind. This compact sense of unity, this entire national consciousness—that is, in fact, a very real remnant of the consciousness of Louis XIV.

[ 25 ] But the English-speaking population countered this with what might be called the will of the people. And so, little by little, what was publicly asserted as public opinion truly became the expression of what emerged from the elected members of Parliament; thus the third form of imperialism developed, which was then first articulated, for example, by Chamberlain and others. But today let us consider this third form of imperialism from a spiritual perspective.

[ 26 ] The first form of imperialism had a tangible reality: one human being was a god in the consciousness of other human beings. His paladins were gods who surrounded him—sub-gods. The second form of imperialism: what existed on Earth was a sign, a symbol. The god acted only within human beings. The third form of imperialism: That which emanates from the souls here on Earth first sheds the character of the symbol, of the sign. Just as it came from reality to the sign, to the symbol, so it moves from the sign, from the symbol, to the phrase.

[ 27 ] This is presented without any emotional agitation—that is, sine ira—but purely objectively, as a fact arising from the necessity of earthly becoming. Since the 17th century, what actually takes place in the public life of the Anglo-American population—what is discussed, what is concocted in the law books—has been called the “will of the people,” certainly stratified by class—we may come to the characteristics of this tomorrow or the day after—but it is mere rhetoric; there isn’t even a relationship between what is said and reality such as exists between the symbol and reality. So this is the course of events; psychologically, it proceeds as follows: from realities to symbols and then to empty rhetoric, to what is a squeezed-dry, emptied-out word. And what takes place beneath the squeezed-dry, emptied-out word—that is where the realities lie. No one imagines that these realities are divine, at least not where they have their origin.

[ 28 ] For let us imagine the foundation of that imperialism whose dominant element is the slogan: in the first wave of imperialism, it was the kings; in the second, the anointed ones; now, it is the slogan. Of course, majority decisions do not result in anything real, but rather in a dominant slogan. And the realities float beneath them and are by no means regarded as something divine. For let us take an important foundation for what unfolded there as realities: colonization. Colonization plays a major role in the formation of this third imperialism. For the system of colonization—the expansion of the empire across the colonies—the “Imperial Federation” is ultimately the form, the specific mode of unification. But how were these colonies originally integrated into the empire? Think back to the real-life examples: adventurers whom the empire has no real use for, who are a bit ragged—they move to the colonies, become rich, and then use their wealth back home; yet they are by no means respected people at first—they remain adventurers, bohemians. That is how the colonial empire is brought together. That is the reality underlying the phrase. But remnants remain. Just as symbols and phrases remain as remnants of the original realities—or symbolic princely crowns or tsarist traditions—so too do the realities of the somewhat infamous colonists’ adventurous undertakings remain: the realities we now have. Isn’t it true that one has, shall we say, “appropriated” this; the son—well, he’s no longer quite so notorious—he already smells better. The grandson smells even better, and then—don’t you think—a time comes when everything already smells good. Then the phrase can take hold of what is already beginning to smell quite good. Then the phrase identifies itself with true reality. Then the state spreads its wings; then the state becomes the protector; and then everything is made honest.

[ 29 ] It is necessary to tackle things—perhaps not by their real names, since names very rarely denote reality—but at their very core. This is indeed necessary, for only in this way can one come to understand what challenges the present age poses to humanity and what responsibilities it imposes on humanity. Only in this way can one also come to realize what a fable convenue so-called history actually is—that is, the history taught in schools and universities. This history truly does not call things by their proper names; on the contrary, it causes the names to gradually come to apply to what is wrong.

[ 30 ] What I have just described is a very terrible thing, isn’t it? But you see, the point now is precisely to direct one’s sensibilities and feelings a little toward one’s responsibilities. Let’s now consider the other side. Let’s take a look at an ancient empire like that. That was truly, in an earthly sense, real in the imagination; the priest-king emerged from the mysteries. The second was no longer earthly and real, but rather a symbol. It is a long way from what the rulers and their paladins in the ancient Eastern empire draped around their necks as divine ornaments, to what is then pinned onto people as a “red or black eagle” of third, second, or first class. Yet this is the course of historical development. What was once reality has turned into nothingness—something that in the end was not even a symbol, but was, in essence, merely the expression of a cliché. Isn’t it true that, ultimately, even in outward appearances, the general system of clichés—which, after all, has spread from the West across the rest of the world—has penetrated public affairs? I have even met titular court councilors! Now, the court councilors already had very little to say—or at least knew little to say—but the titular court councilors! That was simply a phrase that had been attached to a person. And yet, it all goes back to those old customs I spoke of.

[ 31 ] In the first phase I spoke of, we conceived of what was outwardly the physical realm—the earthly and real—entirely as spiritual; in the second phase, it was merely permeated by spiritual substance. And the third phase must grow out of what I have just described to you—out of the realm of mere words and the reality we have just discussed. The third phase must bring the spiritual realm to life here on Earth.

[ 32 ] While in the first phase physical reality was conceived as spiritual, in the future physical reality must not be conceived as spiritual; instead, the spiritual must be present here in the physical world. That is to say, spiritual reality must exist alongside physical reality. Human beings must walk about here, within physical reality, and acknowledge a spiritual reality; they must speak of it as something real, supersensible, and invisible—yet something that is there, something that must be established among us.

[ 33 ] I have spoken of something very bad: the cliché. But if the external world had not become so full of clichés, there would be no room for the realm of the spirit to penetrate. It is precisely because, in the end, everything old has become nothing but a cliché that the empty space into which the realm of the spirit is to penetrate comes into being. Especially in the West, in the Anglo-American world, humanity is heading toward a situation where people will continue to speak—let’s say, in the common idioms—about all sorts of things that have come down from ancient times. As I said, this will roll on just as a ball rolls on. It will roll on in words. You will find countless phrases, especially in the West, that have lost all meaning but are still used. But it is not only in these phrases, but in everything described with old words, that what is actually mere rhetoric lives on—something in which there is no reality, from which reality has been squeezed out. There is then room for the spiritual—something that corresponds to nothing old—to take hold. The old had to become a cliché first; everything that just rolls along with language must be cast aside, and something completely new—which can only unfold as a spiritual world—must take its place.

[ 34 ] Only then can there be a Kingdom of Christ on earth. For in this Kingdom, the following must be a reality: “My Kingdom is not of this world.” In the kingdom of this world—where the Kingdom of Christ first spread—there was still much of this world present that had not become mere rhetoric. But in the Western world, everything that originates from ancient times is destined to become mere rhetoric. Indeed, in the West—in the Anglo-American world—everything that is part of human tradition will become mere rhetoric. This is why we bear the responsibility to infuse the now-empty vessel with a spirit of which it can be said: This kingdom is not of this world! — That is the great responsibility. It does not matter how something came into being, but rather what one does with what has thus come into being. And such are the connections.

[ 35 ] Tomorrow we will have to discuss how these connections might play out in the future, since secret societies are currently operating very effectively beneath the surface, particularly in Western countries, and are now, as is traditional, pushing the second phase of imperialism into the third. For among the Anglo-American population, they have intermingled two forms of imperialism: the economic imperialism of a Chamberlain and the symbolic imperialism of the secret societies—which has been very effectively introduced but is kept strictly hidden from the general public.