An Observer of World Crises
By
Rudolf
Steiner
Reprinted from The Goetheanum for February 26,
1922, and translated into English for the first
time by Henry B. Monges. Although this article was
written by Dr. Steiner in 1922 and takes as its point of
departure a book no longer current, both Mr. Ruedorffer's
remarks and Dr. Steiner's rejoinders have the very
greatest pertinence for present-day conditions.
—
The Editor.
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In his
book The Three Crises; an Inquiry into the Present Political
World Situation, J. J. Ruedorffer offers an
exposition of world events which could only be the work
of a man whose experience has enabled him to develop an opinion
in conformity with facts. From the author's description, it is
on every page apparent that he has for long years lived deeply
with his ideas in the events taking place around him. He
remarks in his Introduction: “This Inquiry
was written in May 1920 as a supplement to an enlarged, new
edition of my Basic Trends in World Politics. But in
accordance with the wishes of my publisher it is now issued as
a separate book.”
We may
read this book as the confession of a man who asks world
history what it has to say concerning the present state of the
world. Without any political party prejudices, he seeks a reply
to this question. But his opening words express only despair:
“Without comprehension my contemporaries stand
confronting world events. What is happening, from what causes,
and to what end? This best of all worlds was, to be sure,
intelligent up to the present, and has now fallen into a state
of insanity. Revolution follows revolution, and peoples rage
against themselves. No! the world was neither intelligent until
recently, nor has it now suddenly fallen prey to insanity.
Civilization has been cleft from the beginning by a gaping
abyss. There are periods of history which conceal it under all
sorts of underbrush. There are human generations which either
walk along its edges carefree or try to deny its existence by
closing their eyes; and there are other generations which, when
compelled to gaze into its depths, wish to turn away,
shuddering, yet are unable to do so. From an age of the
first kind we have entered an age of the second.”
Three
present-day crises are described by the author. Evidence
of the first he sees in the position into which nations —
especially the European — have been forced, and in which
they find it impossible to arrange their mutual relationships
without clashes. A second crisis is evident to him in the
fact that the governments of the various states have gradually
lost their power to the contending political parties, so that
what happens does not depend upon the governments, but upon the
mechanism in the play of party-influence. A third crisis
is apparent in the sum total of the social strivings which
press up to the surface from the subconscious depths of the
masses, who have no insight into the results of their
own efforts, indeed, who, in their very desire to bring about
an improvement in the present conditions of life, themselves
destroy the possibility of a general social community of
human beings.
At the
conclusion of each one of the three chapters dealing with these
three crises stands a confession of despair, summarizing
the content of the author's research. The first chapter
concludes thus: “The untenable condition of Europe
before the war has now become, through war and peace, a
hundredfold more untenable. At that time a grand but
thoughtless state of prosperity — in danger of
being wrecked one fine day because of the instability of the
European balance of power — was threatened with being
swallowed by a world war. It was to the common interest of the
European peoples to avoid this world war. Lack of insight into
their common interest, lack of cool political leadership
— independent of demagogues, and able to survey the
common danger — finally permitted it to break out. The
war is now over; it has ruined every single nation on the
European continent and to the last degree disorganized the
whole. The peoples of Europe, unable under present conditions
even to live, to say nothing of healing the wounds of war, are
individually and collectively confronted with a choice either
of finding and following with determination new ways, or of
perishing completely.”
Of the
second crisis he says the following: “This sickness of
the political organism deprives the reasonable of leadership
and permits the handing over of political decisions to
manifold.
irrelevant, subordinate, and private interests. It limits the
freedom of movement, disperses the political will, and, besides
this, is followed in most cases by a dangerous governmental
instability. The period of unruly nationalism before the war,
the, war itself, the condition of Europe after the war, have
all placed enormous demands on the reasoning ability of the
states, on their calmness, and on their freedom of movement.
The fact that, with the increase of their tasks, the nations'
ability to master them did not also increase but decreased, has
completed the catastrophe. If democracy is to endure, it
must be honest and courageous enough to state the facts,
although by so doing it appears to testify against itself;
Europe stands face to face with ruin!”
In the
third chapter we find the following: “It is a profound
tragedy how every attempt at a better handling of affairs,
every word of reform, is caught in the meshes of this
catastrophe and over and over ensnared, so that it finally
falls to the ground without effect; how the European
bourgeoisie, either thoughtlessly clinging to a
false notion of the age — continued progress of
mankind — or just plodding along the customary road,
lamenting their lot, do not see and do not want to see
that they are nourished by the stored up energy of previous
years, and scarcely capable of recognizing the infirmities of
the present world-order, to say nothing of bringing forth
out of themselves a new one; how, on the other hand, the
proletariat, becoming in nearly all countries ever more
radical, convinced of the un- tenability of the present state
of affairs, and believing themselves the bringers of
salvation by sponsoring a new world order, are in reality, only
the unconscious instruments of destruction and ruin,
including even their own. The new parasites of economic
disorganization, the complaining opulent of yesterday, the
petit-bourgeois sinking to the level of the
proletarian, the credulous worker laboring under the
delusion that he can establish a new world-order, all seem
embraced by the same catastrophe, all seem to be blind men
digging their own graves.”
We
would not turn aside from this confession so distressed, did
the writer's style and attitude betray the literary observer,
rather than the practical man who wants to write factually
because he feels himself standing in the midst of events.
After one has read the three chapters speaking of the downfall
of civilization, the anxious soul asks: how does the author of
such an exposition think about the question: What ought to
happen?
In
answer we read: “Only a change of the world's mind, a
change of will in the participating Great Powers, can create a
Supreme European Council based on reason.”
There
is no indication how this “change of mind,” this
“change of will,” is to be accomplished. Even after
such a stirring insight into the impossibility of continuing
with the old ideas, there is no evidence of the courage
required to seek the conditions upon which recovery depends. If
we seek these conditions, we come to what has often been
expressed in this magazine [The Goetheanum]: The social
organization of mankind has at all times received its
nourishment from the spiritual content of the human
evolutionary stream. Ideas which should sustain the social
organization, as well as the economic life, must stem from the
union of men's souls with an actual spirit-world. Otherwise
these thoughts are merely intellectual. But the sense for such
a union with the spirit-world is lacking in just such a
personality as the author of the Three Crises. He is
able to think about what his senses perceive, and about what
his intellect can combine from those perceptions. Beyond this
— only a blank. For after this negative confession
another confession should come forth; namely: old ideas were
created out of living spirit, and have, indeed, fulfilled
their mission; we cannot continue to be nourished by the
“stored up” ideas of earlier periods. New ideas
must be born; to accomplish which, a union with the
spirit-world is a necessity. But to such a continuance of the
confession belongs the courage not only to speak of
“change of mind” and “change of will,”
but to acknowledge that mankind's turning away from a vivid
experience of the spirit has led to the impossibility of
recognizing in full consciousness the reasons for
the catastrophe that threatens, although these are
seen. Mr. Ruedorffer sees clearly enough; but he does
not understand what he sees. Only the sustaining power of ideas
born of the spirit, ideas which permit warmth to flow
into human souls, which permit the human being to look upward
from earth-bound daily labor to his world mission, to his
relationship with the universe, only the sustaining power
of such ideas will guide his hand to fruitful work and enable
him to establish a human brotherhood. Today the world disdains
those who speak thus of the spirit. Civilization, however, will
recover its health only at the cessation of this disdain.
We may
speak of a “three-membering” of the physical
human organism: the nerve-sense organism, the rhythmic
organism, and the metabolic-limb organism. We must
acknowledge that the two other organisms decay when the
metabolic organism no longer brings real substances to the
whole. In the social organism a reversed condition prevails.
This organism is composed of the economic, the
politico-rights, and the spiritual organisms. The other two
decay when the spiritual organism does not receive real ideas,
born of spiritual experience, and impart them to the other two.
Just as the human body needs real substance to sustain it, so
does the human social organism need real spirit.
There
are still people of the present day who confess something
like fear of the spirit. These people are inclined to scent
superstition, sentimental enthusiasm, lack of scientific
method, when someone speaks of the spiritual world, not just in
superficial phrases, but in a manner that indicates its
real content — an accepted procedure when speaking of
nature and history. Only when this secret fear is overcome can
we know what really is contained in present world
events. If the conquest is not achieved, we stop short at mere
seeing. The book in review speaks only of this sort of
seeing.
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