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Title:      Mein Kampf
Author:     Adolf Hitler (1889-1945)
            Translated into English by James Murphy (died 1946).
* A Project Gutenberg of Australia eBook *
eBook No.:  0200601.txt
Language:   English
Date first posted: September 2002
Date most recently updated: September 2002

This eBook was produced by: Colin Choat

Production notes:
* This translation of the unexpurgated edition of "MEIN KAMPF"
  was first published on March 21st, 1939 by HURST AND BLACKETT LTD.
* Italics in the book have been converted to upper case in this eBook.
* Notes appear at the end of the paragraph in which the note reference
  appears.

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A Project Gutenberg of Australia eBook

Title:      Mein Kampf
Author:     Adolf Hitler (1889-1945)
            Translated into English by James Murphy (died 1946).





INTRODUCTION

VOLUME I: A RETROSPECT

CHAPTER I    IN THE HOME OF MY PARENTS
CHAPTER II   YEARS OF STUDY AND SUFFERING IN VIENNA
CHAPTER III  POLITICAL REFLECTIONS ARISING OUT OF MY SOJOURN IN VIENNA
CHAPTER IV   MUNICH
CHAPTER V    THE WORLD WAR
CHAPTER VI   WAR PROPAGANDA
CHAPTER VII  THE REVOLUTION
CHAPTER VIII THE BEGINNING OF MY POLITICAL ACTIVITIES
CHAPTER IX   THE GERMAN LABOUR PARTY
CHAPTER X    WHY THE SECOND REICH COLLAPSED
CHAPTER XI   RACE AND PEOPLE
CHAPTER XII  THE FIRST STAGE IN THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE GERMAN NATIONAL
             SOCIALIST LABOUR PARTY

VOLUME II: THE NATIONAL SOCIALIST MOVEMENT

CHAPTER I    WELTANSCHAUUNG AND PARTY
CHAPTER II   THE STATE
CHAPTER III  CITIZENS AND SUBJECTS OF THE STATE
CHAPTER IV   PERSONALITY AND THE IDEAL OF THE PEOPLE'S STATE
CHAPTER V    WELTANSCHAUUNG AND ORGANIZATION
CHAPTER VI   THE FIRST PERIOD OF OUR STRUGGLE
CHAPTER VII  THE CONFLICT WITH THE RED FORCES
CHAPTER VIII THE STRONG IS STRONGEST WHEN ALONE
CHAPTER IX   FUNDAMENTAL IDEAS REGARDING THE NATURE AND ORGANIZATION OF
             THE STORM TROOPS
CHAPTER X    THE MASK OF FEDERALISM
CHAPTER XI   PROPAGANDA AND ORGANIZATION
CHAPTER XII  THE PROBLEM OF THE TRADE UNIONS
CHAPTER XIII THE GERMAN POST-WAR POLICY OF ALLIANCES
CHAPTER XIV  GERMANY'S POLICY IN EASTERN EUROPE
CHAPTER XV   THE RIGHT TO SELF-DEFENCE
EPILOGUE





INTRODUCTION



AUTHOR'S PREFACE

On April 1st, 1924, I began to serve my sentence of detention in the
Fortress of Landsberg am Lech, following the verdict of the Munich
People's Court of that time.

After years of uninterrupted labour it was now possible for the first
time to begin a work which many had asked for and which I myself felt
would be profitable for the Movement. So I decided to devote two volumes
to a description not only of the aims of our Movement but also of its
development. There is more to be learned from this than from any purely
doctrinaire treatise.

This has also given me the opportunity of describing my own development
in so far as such a description is necessary to the understanding of the
first as well as the second volume and to destroy the legendary
fabrications which the Jewish Press have circulated about me.

In this work I turn not to strangers but to those followers of the
Movement whose hearts belong to it and who wish to study it more
profoundly. I know that fewer people are won over by the written word
than by the spoken word and that every great movement on this earth owes
its growth to great speakers and not to great writers.

Nevertheless, in order to produce more equality and uniformity in the
defence of any doctrine, its fundamental principles must be committed to
writing. May these two volumes therefore serve as the building stones
which I contribute to the joint work.

The Fortress, Landsberg am Lech.



At half-past twelve in the afternoon of November 9th, 1923, those whose
names are given below fell in front of the FELDHERRNHALLE and in the
forecourt of the former War Ministry in Munich for their loyal faith in
the resurrection of their people:

Alfarth, Felix, Merchant, born July 5th, 1901
Bauriedl, Andreas, Hatmaker, born May 4th, 1879
Casella, Theodor, Bank Official, born August 8th, 1900
Ehrlich, Wilhelm, Bank Official, born August 19th, 1894
Faust, Martin, Bank Official, born January 27th, 1901
Hechenberger, Anton, Locksmith, born September 28th, 1902
Koerner, Oskar, Merchant, born January 4th, 1875
Kuhn, Karl, Head Waiter, born July 25th, 1897
Laforce, Karl, Student of Engineering, born October 28th, 1904
Neubauer, Kurt, Waiter, born March 27th, 1899
Pape, Claus von, Merchant, born August 16th, 1904
Pfordten, Theodor von der, Councillor to the Superior Provincial Court,
born May 14th, 1873
Rickmers, Johann, retired Cavalry Captain, born May 7th, 1881
Scheubner-Richter, Max Erwin von, Dr. of Engineering, born January 9th,
1884
Stransky, Lorenz Ritter von, Engineer, born March 14th, 1899
Wolf, Wilhelm, Merchant, born October 19th, 1898

So-called national officials refused to allow the dead heroes a common
burial. So I dedicate the first volume of this work to them as a common
memorial, that the memory of those martyrs may be a permanent source of
light for the followers of our Movement.

The Fortress, Landsberg a/L.,

October 16th, 1924



TRANSLATOR'S INTRODUCTION

In placing before the reader this unabridged translation of Adolf
Hitler's book, MEIN KAMPF, I feel it my duty to call attention to
certain historical facts which must be borne in mind if the reader would
form a fair judgment of what is written in this extraordinary work.

The first volume of MEIN KAMPF was written while the author was
imprisoned in a Bavarian fortress. How did he get there and why? The
answer to that question is important, because the book deals with the
events which brought the author into this plight and because he wrote
under the emotional stress caused by the historical happenings of the
time. It was the hour of Germany's deepest humiliation, somewhat
parallel to that of a little over a century before, when Napoleon had
dismembered the old German Empire and French soldiers occupied almost
the whole of Germany.

In the beginning of 1923 the French invaded Germany, occupied the Ruhr
district and seized several German towns in the Rhineland. This was a
flagrant breach of international law and was protested against by every
section of British political opinion at that time. The Germans could not
effectively defend themselves, as they had been already disarmed under
the provisions of the Versailles Treaty. To make the situation more
fraught with disaster for Germany, and therefore more appalling in its
prospect, the French carried on an intensive propaganda for the
separation of the Rhineland from the German Republic and the
establishment of an independent Rhenania. Money was poured out lavishly
to bribe agitators to carry on this work, and some of the most insidious
elements of the German population became active in the pay of the
invader. At the same time a vigorous movement was being carried on in
Bavaria for the secession of that country and the establishment of an
independent Catholic monarchy there, under vassalage to France, as
Napoleon had done when he made Maximilian the first King of Bavaria in
1805.

The separatist movement in the Rhineland went so far that some leading
German politicians came out in favour of it, suggesting that if the
Rhineland were thus ceded it might be possible for the German Republic
to strike a bargain with the French in regard to Reparations. But in
Bavaria the movement went even farther. And it was more far-reaching in
its implications; for, if an independent Catholic monarchy could be set
up in Bavaria, the next move would have been a union with Catholic
German-Austria. possibly under a Habsburg King. Thus a Catholic BLOC
would have been created which would extend from the Rhineland through
Bavaria and Austria into the Danube Valley and would have been at least
under the moral and military, if not the full political, hegemony of
France. The dream seems fantastic now, but it was considered quite a
practical thing in those fantastic times. The effect of putting such a
plan into action would have meant the complete dismemberment of Germany;
and that is what French diplomacy aimed at. Of course such an aim no
longer exists. And I should not recall what must now seem "old, unhappy,
far-off things" to the modern generation, were it not that they were
very near and actual at the time MEIN KAMPF was written and were more
unhappy then than we can even imagine now.

By the autumn of 1923 the separatist movement in Bavaria was on the
point of becoming an accomplished fact. General von Lossow, the Bavarian
chief of the REICHSWEHR no longer took orders from Berlin. The flag of
the German Republic was rarely to be seen, Finally, the Bavarian Prime
Minister decided to proclaim an independent Bavaria and its secession
from the German Republic. This was to have taken place on the eve of the
Fifth Anniversary of the establishment of the German Republic (November
9th, 1918.)

Hitler staged a counter-stroke. For several days he had been mobilizing
his storm battalions in the neighbourhood of Munich, intending to make a
national demonstration and hoping that the REICHSWEHR would stand by him
to prevent secession. Ludendorff was with him. And he thought that the
prestige of the great German Commander in the World War would be
sufficient to win the allegiance of the professional army.

A meeting had been announced to take place in the Bürgerbräu Keller on
the night of November 8th. The Bavarian patriotic societies were
gathered there, and the Prime Minister, Dr. von Kahr, started to read
his official PRONUNCIAMENTO, which practically amounted to a
proclamation of Bavarian independence and secession from the Republic.
While von Kahr was speaking Hitler entered the hall, followed by
Ludendorff. And the meeting was broken up.

Next day the Nazi battalions took the street for the purpose of making a
mass demonstration in favour of national union. They marched in massed
formation, led by Hitler and Ludendorff. As they reached one of the
central squares of the city the army opened fire on them. Sixteen of the
marchers were instantly killed, and two died of their wounds in the
local barracks of the REICHSWEHR. Several others were wounded also.
Hitler fell on the pavement and broke a collar-bone. Ludendorff marched
straight up to the soldiers who were firing from the barricade, but not
a man dared draw a trigger on his old Commander.

Hitler was arrested with several of his comrades and imprisoned in the
fortress of Landsberg on the River Lech. On February 26th, 1924, he was
brought to trial before the VOLKSGERICHT, or People's Court in Munich.
He was sentenced to detention in a fortress for five years. With several
companions, who had been also sentenced to various periods of
imprisonment, he returned to Landsberg am Lech and remained there until
the 20th of the following December, when he was released. In all he
spent about thirteen months in prison. It was during this period that he
wrote the first volume of MEIN KAMPF.

If we bear all this in mind we can account for the emotional stress
under which MEIN KAMPF was written. Hitler was naturally incensed
against the Bavarian government authorities, against the footling
patriotic societies who were pawns in the French game, though often
unconsciously so, and of course against the French. That he should write
harshly of the French was only natural in the circumstances. At that
time there was no exaggeration whatsoever in calling France the
implacable and mortal enemy of Germany. Such language was being used by
even the pacifists themselves, not only in Germany but abroad. And even
though the second volume of MEIN KAMPF was written after Hitler's
release from prison and was published after the French had left the
Ruhr, the tramp of the invading armies still echoed in German ears, and
the terrible ravages that had been wrought in the industrial and
financial life of Germany, as a consequence of the French invasion, had
plunged the country into a state of social and economic chaos. In France
itself the franc fell to fifty per cent of its previous value. Indeed,
the whole of Europe had been brought to the brink of ruin, following the
French invasion of the Ruhr and Rhineland.

But, as those things belong to the limbo of a dead past that nobody
wishes to have remembered now, it is often asked: Why doesn't Hitler
revise MEIN KAMPF? The answer, as I think, which would immediately come
into the mind of an impartial critic is that MEIN KAMPF is an historical
document which bears the imprint of its own time. To revise it would
involve taking it out of its historical context. Moreover Hitler has
declared that his acts and public statements constitute a partial
revision of his book and are to be taken as such. This refers especially
to the statements in MEIN KAMPF regarding France and those German
kinsfolk that have not yet been incorporated in the REICH. On behalf of
Germany he has definitely acknowledged the German portion of South Tyrol
as permanently belonging to Italy and, in regard to France, he has again
and again declared that no grounds now exist for a conflict of political
interests between Germany and France and that Germany has no territorial
claims against France. Finally, I may note here that Hitler has also
declared that, as he was only a political leader and not yet a statesman
in a position of official responsibility, when he wrote this book, what
he stated in MEIN KAMPF does not implicate him as Chancellor of the
REICH.

I now come to some references in the text which are frequently recurring
and which may not always be clear to every reader. For instance, Hitler
speaks indiscriminately of the German REICH. Sometimes he means to refer
to the first REICH, or Empire, and sometimes to the German Empire as
founded under William I in 1871. Incidentally the regime which he
inaugurated in 1933 is generally known as the THIRD REICH, though this
expression is not used in MEIN KAMPF. Hitler also speaks of the Austrian
REICH and the East Mark, without always explicitly distinguishing
between the Habsburg Empire and Austria proper. If the reader will bear
the following historical outline in mind, he will understand the
references as they occur.

The word REICH, which is a German form of the Latin word REGNUM, does
not mean Kingdom or Empire or Republic. It is a sort of basic word that
may apply to any form of Constitution. Perhaps our word, Realm, would be
the best translation, though the word Empire can be used when the REICH
was actually an Empire. The forerunner of the first German Empire was
the Holy Roman Empire which Charlemagne founded in A.D. 800. Charlemagne
was King of the Franks, a group of Germanic tribes that subsequently
became Romanized. In the tenth century Charlemagne's Empire passed into
German hands when Otto I (936-973) became Emperor. As the Holy Roman
Empire of the German Nation, its formal appellation, it continued to
exist under German Emperors until Napoleon overran and dismembered
Germany during the first decade of the last century. On August 6th,
1806, the last Emperor, Francis II, formally resigned the German crown.
In the following October Napoleon entered Berlin in triumph, after the
Battle of Jena.

After the fall of Napoleon a movement set in for the reunion of the
German states in one Empire. But the first decisive step towards that
end was the foundation of the Second German Empire in 1871, after the
Franco-Prussian War. This Empire, however, did not include the German
lands which remained under the Habsburg Crown. These were known as
German Austria. It was Bismarck's dream to unite German Austria with the
German Empire; but it remained only a dream until Hitler turned it into
a reality in 1938'. It is well to bear that point in mind, because this
dream of reuniting all the German states in one REICH has been a
dominant feature of German patriotism and statesmanship for over a
century and has been one of Hitler's ideals since his childhood.

In MEIN KAMPF Hitler often speaks of the East Mark. This East Mark--i.e.
eastern frontier land--was founded by Charlemagne as the eastern bulwark
of the Empire. It was inhabited principally by Germano-Celtic tribes
called Bajuvari and stood for centuries as the firm bulwark of Western
Christendom against invasion from the East, especially against the
Turks. Geographically it was almost identical with German Austria.

There are a few points more that I wish to mention in this introductory
note. For instance, I have let the word WELTANSCHAUUNG stand in its
original form very often. We have no one English word to convey the same
meaning as the German word, and it would have burdened the text too much
if I were to use a circumlocution each time the word occurs.
WELTANSCHAUUNG literally means "Outlook-on-the World". But as generally
used in German this outlook on the world means a whole system of ideas
associated together in an organic unity--ideas of human life, human
values, cultural and religious ideas, politics, economics, etc., in fact
a totalitarian view of human existence. Thus Christianity could be
called a WELTANSCHAUUNG, and Mohammedanism could be called a
WELTANSCHAUUNG, and Socialism could be called a WELTANSCHAUUNG,
especially as preached in Russia. National Socialism claims definitely
to be a WELTANSCHAUUNG.

Another word I have often left standing in the original is VÖLKISCH. The
basic word here is VOLK, which is sometimes translated as PEOPLE; but
the German word, VOLK, means the whole body of the PEOPLE without any
distinction of class or caste. It is a primary word also that suggests
what might be called the basic national stock. Now, after the defeat in
1918, the downfall of the Monarchy and the destruction of the
aristocracy and the upper classes, the concept of DAS VOLK came into
prominence as the unifying co-efficient which would embrace the whole
German people. Hence the large number of VÖLKISCH societies that arose
after the war and hence also the National Socialist concept of
unification which is expressed by the word VOLKSGEMEINSCHAFT, or folk
community. This is used in contradistinction to the Socialist concept of
the nation as being divided into classes. Hitler's ideal is the
VÖLKISCHER STAAT, which I have translated as the People's State.

Finally, I would point out that the term Social Democracy may be
misleading in English, as it has not a democratic connotation in our
sense. It was the name given to the Socialist Party in Germany. And that
Party was purely Marxist; but it adopted the name Social Democrat in
order to appeal to the democratic sections of the German people.

JAMES MURPHY.

Abbots Langley, February, 1939





VOLUME I: A RETROSPECT




CHAPTER I



IN THE HOME OF MY PARENTS


It has turned out fortunate for me to-day that destiny appointed
Braunau-on-the-Inn to be my birthplace. For that little town is situated
just on the frontier between those two States the reunion of which
seems, at least to us of the younger generation, a task to which we
should devote our lives and in the pursuit of which every possible means
should be employed.

German-Austria must be restored to the great German Motherland. And not
indeed on any grounds of economic calculation whatsoever. No, no. Even
if the union were a matter of economic indifference, and even if it were
to be disadvantageous from the economic standpoint, still it ought to
take place. People of the same blood should be in the same REICH. The
German people will have no right to engage in a colonial policy until
they shall have brought all their children together in the one State.
When the territory of the REICH embraces all the Germans and finds
itself unable to assure them a livelihood, only then can the moral right
arise, from the need of the people to acquire foreign territory. The
plough is then the sword; and the tears of war will produce the daily
bread for the generations to come.

And so this little frontier town appeared to me as the symbol of a great
task. But in another regard also it points to a lesson that is
applicable to our day. Over a hundred years ago this sequestered spot
was the scene of a tragic calamity which affected the whole German
nation and will be remembered for ever, at least in the annals of German
history. At the time of our Fatherland's deepest humiliation a
bookseller, Johannes Palm, uncompromising nationalist and enemy of the
French, was put to death here because he had the misfortune to have
loved Germany well. He obstinately refused to disclose the names of his
associates, or rather the principals who were chiefly responsible for
the affair. Just as it happened with Leo Schlageter. The former, like
the latter, was denounced to the French by a Government agent. It was a
director of police from Augsburg who won an ignoble renown on that
occasion and set the example which was to be copied at a later date by
the neo-German officials of the REICH under Herr Severing's
regime (Note 1).

[Note 1. In order to understand the reference here, and similar
references in later portions of MEIN KAMPF, the following must be borne
in mind:

From 1792 to 1814 the French Revolutionary Armies overran Germany. In
1800 Bavaria shared in the Austrian defeat at Hohenlinden and the French
occupied Munich. In 1805 the Bavarian Elector was made King of Bavaria by
Napoleon and stipulated to back up Napoleon in all his wars with a force
of 30,000 men. Thus Bavaria became the absolute vassal of the French.
This was 'TheTime of Germany's Deepest Humiliation', Which is referred
to again and again by Hitler.

In 1806 a pamphlet entitled 'Germany's Deepest Humiliation' was
published in South Germany. Amnng those who helped to circulate the
pamphlet was the Nürnberg bookseller, Johannes Philipp Palm. He was
denounced to the French by a Bavarian police agent. At his trial he
refused to disclose thename of the author. By Napoleon's orders, he was
shot at Braunau-on-the-Innon August 26th, 1806. A monument erected to
him on the site of the executionwas one of the first public objects that
made an impression on Hitler asa little boy.

Leo Schlageter's case was in many respects parallel to that of Johannes
Palm. Schlageter was a German theological student who volunteered for
service in 1914. He became an artillery officer and won the Iron Cross of
both classes. When the French occupied the Ruhr in 1923 Schlageter helped
to organize the passive resistance on the German side. He and his
companions blew up a railway bridge for the purpose of making the
transport of coal to France more difficult.

Those who took part in the affair were denounced to the French by a
German informer. Schlageter took the whole responsibility on his own
shoulders and was condemned to death, his companions being sentenced to
various terms of imprisonment and penal servitude by the French Court.
Schlageter refused to disclose the identity of those who issued the order
to blow up the railway bridge and he would not plead for mercy before a
French Court. He was shot by a French firing-squad on May 26th, 1923.
Severing was at that time German Minister of the Interior. It is said
that representations were made, to himon Schlageter's behalf and that he
refused to interfere.

Schlageter has become the chief martyr of the German resistancc to the
French occupation of the Ruhr and also one of the great heroes of the
National Socialist Movement. He had joined the Movement at a very early
stage, his card of membership bearing the number 61.]

In this little town on the Inn, haloed by the memory of a German martyr,
a town that was Bavarian by blood but under the rule of the Austrian
State, my parents were domiciled towards the end of the last century. My
father was a civil servant who fulfilled his duties very
conscientiously. My mother looked after the household and lovingly
devoted herself to the care of her children. From that period I have not
retained very much in my memory; because after a few years my father had
to leave that frontier town which I had come to love so much and take up
a new post farther down the Inn valley, at Passau, therefore actually in
Germany itself.

In those days it was the usual lot of an Austrian civil servant to be
transferred periodically from one post to another. Not long after coming
to Passau my father was transferred to Linz, and while there he retired
finally to live on his pension. But this did not mean that the old
gentleman would now rest from his labours.

He was the son of a poor cottager, and while still a boy he grew
restless and left home. When he was barely thirteen years old he buckled
on his satchel and set forth from his native woodland parish. Despite
the dissuasion of villagers who could speak from 'experience,' he went
to Vienna to learn a trade there. This was in the fiftieth year of the
last century. It was a sore trial, that of deciding to leave home and
face the unknown, with three gulden in his pocket. By when the boy of
thirteen was a lad of seventeen and had passed his apprenticeship
examination as a craftsman he was not content. Quite the contrary. The
persistent economic depression of that period and the constant want and
misery strengthened his resolution to give up working at a trade and
strive for 'something higher.' As a boy it had seemed to him that the
position of the parish priest in his native village was the highest in
the scale of human attainment; but now that the big city had enlarged
his outlook the young man looked up to the dignity of a State official
as the highest of all. With the tenacity of one whom misery and trouble
had already made old when only half-way through his youth the young man
of seventeen obstinately set out on his new project and stuck to it
until he won through. He became a civil servant. He was about
twenty-three years old, I think, when he succeeded in making himself
what he had resolved to become. Thus he was able to fulfil the promise
he had made as a poor boy not to return to his native village until he
was 'somebody.'

He had gained his end. But in the village there was nobody who had
remembered him as a little boy, and the village itself had become
strange to him.

Now at last, when he was fifty-six years old, he gave up his active
career; but he could not bear to be idle for a single day. On the
outskirts of the small market town of Lambach in Upper Austria he bought
a farm and tilled it himself. Thus, at the end of a long and
hard-working career, he came back to the life which his father had led.

It was at this period that I first began to have ideals of my own. I
spent a good deal of time scampering about in the open, on the long road
from school, and mixing up with some of the roughest of the boys, which
caused my mother many anxious moments. All this tended to make me
something quite the reverse of a stay-at-home. I gave scarcely any
serious thought to the question of choosing a vocation in life; but I
was certainly quite out of sympathy with the kind of career which my
father had followed. I think that an inborn talent for speaking now
began to develop and take shape during the more or less strenuous
arguments which I used to have with my comrades. I had become a juvenile
ringleader who learned well and easily at school but was rather
difficult to manage. In my freetime I practised singing in the choir of
the monastery church at Lambach, and thus it happened that I was placed
in a very favourable position to be emotionally impressed again and
again by the magnificent splendour of ecclesiastical ceremonial. What
could be more natural for me than to look upon the Abbot as representing
the highest human ideal worth striving for, just as the position of the
humble village priest had appeared to my father in his own boyhood days?
At least, that was my idea for a while. But the juvenile disputes I had
with my father did not lead him to appreciate his son's oratorical gifts
in such a way as to see in them a favourable promise for such a career,
and so he naturally could not understand the boyish ideas I had in my
head at that time. This contradiction in my character made him feel
somewhat anxious.

As a matter of fact, that transitory yearning after such a vocation soon
gave way to hopes that were better suited to my temperament. Browsing
through my father's books, I chanced to come across some publications
that dealt with military subjects. One of these publications was a
popular history of the Franco-German War of 1870-71. It consisted of two
volumes of an illustrated periodical dating from those years. These
became my favourite reading. In a little while that great and heroic
conflict began to take first place in my mind. And from that time
onwards I became more and more enthusiastic about everything that was in
any way connected with war or military affairs.

But this story of the Franco-German War had a special significance for
me on other grounds also. For the first time, and as yet only in quite a
vague way, the question began to present itself: Is there a
difference--and if there be, what is it--between the Germans who fought
that war and the other Germans? Why did not Austria also take part in
it? Why did not my father and all the others fight in that struggle? Are
we not the same as the other Germans? Do we not all belong together?

That was the first time that this problem began to agitate my small
brain. And from the replies that were given to the questions which I
asked very tentatively, I was forced to accept the fact, though with a
secret envy, that not all Germans had the good luck to belong to
Bismarck's Empire. This was something that I could not understand.

It was decided that I should study. Considering my character as a whole,
and especially my temperament, my father decided that the classical
subjects studied at the Lyceum were not suited to my natural talents. He
thought that the REALSCHULE (Note 2) would suit me better. My obvious
talent for drawing confirmed him in that view; for in his opinion drawing
was a subject too much neglected in the Austrian GYMNASIUM. Probably also
the memory of the hard road which he himself had travelled contributed to
make him look upon classical studies as unpractical and accordingly to
set little value on them. At the back of his mind he had the idea that
his son also should become an official of the Government. Indeed he had
decided on that career for me. The difficulties through which he had to
struggle in making his own career led him to overestimate what he had
achieved, because this was exclusively the result of his own
indefatigable industry and energy. The characteristic pride of the
self-made man urged him towards the idea that his son should follow the
same calling and if possible rise to a higher position in it. Moreover,
this idea was strengthened by the consideration that the results of his
own life's industry had placed him in a position to facilitate his son's
advancement in the same career.

[Note 2. Non-classical secondary school. The Lyceum and GYMNASIUM were
classical or semi-classical secondary schools.]

He was simply incapable of imagining that I might reject what had meant
everything in life to him. My father's decision was simple, definite,
clear and, in his eyes, it was something to be taken for granted. A man
of such a nature who had become an autocrat by reason of his own hard
struggle for existence, could not think of allowing 'inexperienced' and
irresponsible young fellows to choose their own careers. To act in such
a way, where the future of his own son was concerned, would have been a
grave and reprehensible weakness in the exercise of parental authority
and responsibility, something utterly incompatible with his
characteristic sense of duty.

And yet it had to be otherwise.

For the first time in my life--I was then eleven years old--I felt
myself forced into open opposition. No matter how hard and determined my
father might be about putting his own plans and opinions into action,
his son was no less obstinate in refusing to accept ideas on which he
set little or no value.

I would not become a civil servant.

No amount of persuasion and no amount of 'grave' warnings could break
down that opposition. I would not become a State official, not on any
account. All the attempts which my father made to arouse in me a love or
liking for that profession, by picturing his own career for me, had only
the opposite effect. It nauseated me to think that one day I might be
fettered to an office stool, that I could not dispose of my own time but
would be forced to spend the whole of my life filling out forms.

One can imagine what kind of thoughts such a prospect awakened in the
mind of a young fellow who was by no means what is called a 'good boy'
in the current sense of that term. The ridiculously easy school tasks
which we were given made it possible for me to spend far more time in
the open air than at home. To-day, when my political opponents pry into
my life with diligent scrutiny, as far back as the days of my boyhood,
so as finally to be able to prove what disreputable tricks this Hitler
was accustomed to in his young days, I thank heaven that I can look back
to those happy days and find the memory of them helpful. The fields and
the woods were then the terrain on which all disputes were fought out.

Even attendance at the REALSCHULE could not alter my way of spending my
time. But I had now another battle to fight.

So long as the paternal plan to make a State functionary contradicted my
own inclinations only in the abstract, the conflict was easy to bear. I
could be discreet about expressing my personal views and thus avoid
constantly recurrent disputes. My own resolution not to become a
Government official was sufficient for the time being to put my mind
completely at rest. I held on to that resolution inexorably. But the
situation became more difficult once I had a positive plan of my own
which I might present to my father as a counter-suggestion. This
happened when I was twelve years old. How it came about I cannot exactly
say now; but one day it became clear to me that I would be a painter--I
mean an artist. That I had an aptitude for drawing was an admitted fact.
It was even one of the reasons why my father had sent me to the
REALSCHULE; but he had never thought of having that talent developed in
such a way that I could take up painting as a professional career. Quite
the contrary. When, as a result of my renewed refusal to adopt his
favourite plan, my father asked me for the first time what I myself
really wished to be, the resolution that I had already formed expressed
itself almost automatically. For a while my father was speechless. "A
painter? An artist-painter?" he exclaimed.

He wondered whether I was in a sound state of mind. He thought that he
might not have caught my words rightly, or that he had misunderstood
what I meant. But when I had explained my ideas to him and he saw how
seriously I took them, he opposed them with that full determination
which was characteristic of him. His decision was exceedingly simple and
could not be deflected from its course by any consideration of what my
own natural qualifications really were.

"Artist! Not as long as I live, never." As the son had inherited some of
the father's obstinacy, besides having other qualities of his own, my
reply was equally energetic. But it stated something quite the contrary.

At that our struggle became stalemate. The father would not abandon his
'Never', and I became all the more consolidated in my 'Nevertheless'.

Naturally the resulting situation was not pleasant. The old gentleman
was bitterly annoyed; and indeed so was I, although I really loved him.
My father forbade me to entertain any hopes of taking up the art of
painting as a profession. I went a step further and declared that I
would not study anything else. With such declarations the situation
became still more strained, so that the old gentleman irrevocably
decided to assert his parental authority at all costs. That led me to
adopt an attitude of circumspect silence, but I put my threat into
execution. I thought that, once it became clear to my father that I was
making no progress at the REALSCHULE, for weal or for woe, he would be
forced to allow me to follow the happy career I had dreamed of.

I do not know whether I calculated rightly or not. Certainly my failure
to make progress became quite visible in the school. I studied just the
subjects that appealed to me, especially those which I thought might be
of advantage to me later on as a painter. What did not appear to have
any importance from this point of view, or what did not otherwise appeal
to me favourably, I completely sabotaged. My school reports of that time
were always in the extremes of good or bad, according to the subject and
the interest it had for me. In one column my qualification read 'very
good' or 'excellent'. In another it read 'average' or even 'below
average'. By far my best subjects were geography and, even more so,
general history. These were my two favourite subjects, and I led the
class in them.

When I look back over so many years and try to judge the results of that
experience I find two very significant facts standing out clearly before
my mind.

First, I became a nationalist.

Second, I learned to understand and grasp the true meaning of history.

The old Austria was a multi-national State. In those days at least the
citizens of the German Empire, taken through and through, could not
understand what that fact meant in the everyday life of the individuals
within such a State. After the magnificent triumphant march of the
victorious armies in the Franco-German War the Germans in the REICH
became steadily more and more estranged from the Germans beyond their
frontiers, partly because they did not deign to appreciate those other
Germans at their true value or simply because they were incapable of
doing so.

The Germans of the REICH did not realize that if the Germans in Austria
had not been of the best racial stock they could never have given the
stamp of their own character to an Empire of 52 millions, so definitely
that in Germany itself the idea arose--though quite an erroneous
one--that Austria was a German State. That was an error which led to
dire consequences; but all the same it was a magnificent testimony to
the character of the ten million Germans in that East Mark. (Note 3)
Only very few of the Germans in the REICH itself had an idea of the bitter
struggle which those Eastern Germans had to carry on daily for the
preservation of their German language, their German schools and their
German character. Only to-day, when a tragic fate has torn several
millions of our kinsfolk away from the REICH and has forced them to live
under the rule of the stranger, dreaming of that common fatherland
towards which all their yearnings are directed and struggling to uphold
at least the sacred right of using their mother tongue--only now have
the wider circles of the German population come to realize what it means
to have to fight for the traditions of one's race. And so at last
perhaps there are people here and there who can assess the greatness of
that German spirit which animated the old East Mark and enabled those
people, left entirely dependent on their own resources, to defend the
Empire against the Orient for several centuries and subsequently to hold
fast the frontiers of the German language through a guerilla warfare of
attrition, at a time when the German Empire was sedulously cultivating
an interest for colonies but not for its own flesh and blood before the
threshold of its own door.

[Note 3. See Translator's Introduction.]

What has happened always and everywhere, in every kind of struggle,
happened also in the language fight which was carried on in the old
Austria. There were three groups--the fighters, the hedgers and the
traitors. Even in the schools this sifting already began to take place.
And it is worth noting that the struggle for the language was waged
perhaps in its bitterest form around the school; because this was the
nursery where the seeds had to be watered which were to spring up and
form the future generation. The tactical objective of the fight was the
winning over of the child, and it was to the child that the first
rallying cry was addressed:

"German youth, do not forget that you are a German," and "Remember,
little girl, that one day you must be a German mother."

Those who know something of the juvenile spirit can understand how youth
will always lend a glad ear to such a rallying cry. Under many forms the
young people led the struggle, fighting in their own way and with their
own weapons. They refused to sing non-German songs. The greater the
efforts made to win them away from their German allegiance, the more
they exalted the glory of their German heroes. They stinted themselves
in buying things to eat, so that they might spare their pennies to help
the war chest of their elders. They were incredibly alert in the
significance of what the non-German teachers said and they contradicted
in unison. They wore the forbidden emblems of their own kinsfolk and
were happy when penalised for doing so, or even physically punished. In
miniature they were mirrors of loyalty from which the older people might
learn a lesson.

And thus it was that at a comparatively early age I took part in the
struggle which the nationalities were waging against one another in the
old Austria. When meetings were held for the South Mark German League
and the School League we wore cornflowers and black-red-gold colours to
express our loyalty. We greeted one another with HEIL! and instead of
the Austrian anthem we sang our own DEUTSCHLAND ÜBER ALLES, despite
warnings and penalties. Thus the youth were educated politically at a
time when the citizens of a so-called national State for the most part
knew little of their own nationality except the language. Of course, I
did not belong to the hedgers. Within a little while I had become an
ardent 'German National', which has a different meaning from the party
significance attached to that phrase to-day.

I developed very rapidly in the nationalist direction, and by the time I
was 15 years old I had come to understand the distinction between
dynastic patriotism and nationalism based on the concept of folk, or
people, my inclination being entirely in favour of the latter.

Such a preference may not perhaps be clearly intelligible to those who
have never taken the trouble to study the internal conditions that
prevailed under the Habsburg Monarchy.

Among historical studies universal history was the subject almost
exclusively taught in the Austrian schools, for of specific Austrian
history there was only very little. The fate of this State was closely
bound up with the existence and development of Germany as a whole; so a
division of history into German history and Austrian history would be
practically inconceivable. And indeed it was only when the German people
came to be divided between two States that this division of German
history began to take place.

The insignia (Note 4) of a former imperial sovereignty which were still
preserved in Vienna appeared to act as magical relics rather than as the
visible guarantee of an everlasting bond of union.

[Note 4. When Francis II had laid down his title as Emperor of the Holy
Roman Empireof the German Nation, which he did at the command of Napoleon,
the Crownand Mace, as the Imperial Insignia, were kept in Vienna. After
the German Empire was refounded, in 1871, under William I, there were many
demands tohave the Insignia transferred to Berlin. But these went
unheeded. Hitler had them brought to Germany after the Austrian Anschluss
and displayed at Nuremberg during the Party Congress in September 1938.]

When the Habsburg State crumbled to pieces in 1918 the Austrian Germans
instinctively raised an outcry for union with their German fatherland.
That was the voice of a unanimous yearning in the hearts of the whole
people for a return to the unforgotten home of their fathers. But such a
general yearning could not be explained except by attributing the cause
of it to the historical training through which the individual Austrian
Germans had passed. Therein lay a spring that never dried up. Especially
in times of distraction and forgetfulness its quiet voice was a reminder
of the past, bidding the people to look out beyond the mere welfare of
the moment to a new future.

The teaching of universal history in what are called the middle schools
is still very unsatisfactory. Few teachers realize that the purpose of
teaching history is not the memorizing of some dates and facts, that the
student is not interested in knowing the exact date of a battle or the
birthday of some marshal or other, and not at all--or at least only very
insignificantly--interested in knowing when the crown of his fathers was
placed on the brow of some monarch. These are certainly not looked upon
as important matters.

To study history means to search for and discover the forces that are
the causes of those results which appear before our eyes as historical
events. The art of reading and studying consists in remembering the
essentials and forgetting what is not essential.

Probably my whole future life was determined by the fact that I had a
professor of history who understood, as few others understand, how to
make this viewpoint prevail in teaching and in examining. This teacher
was Dr. Leopold Poetsch, of the REALSCHULE at Linz. He was the ideal
personification of the qualities necessary to a teacher of history in
the sense I have mentioned above. An elderly gentleman with a decisive
manner but a kindly heart, he was a very attractive speaker and was able
to inspire us with his own enthusiasm. Even to-day I cannot recall
without emotion that venerable personality whose enthusiastic exposition
of history so often made us entirely forget the present and allow
ourselves to be transported as if by magic into the past. He penetrated
through the dim mist of thousands of years and transformed the
historical memory of the dead past into a living reality. When we
listened to him we became afire with enthusiasm and we were sometimes
moved even to tears.

It was still more fortunate that this professor was able not only to
illustrate the past by examples from the present but from the past he
was also able to draw a lesson for the present. He understood better
than any other the everyday problems that were then agitating our minds.
The national fervour which we felt in our own small way was utilized by
him as an instrument of our education, inasmuch as he often appealed to
our national sense of honour; for in that way he maintained order and
held our attention much more easily than he could have done by any other
means. It was because I had such a professor that history became my
favourite subject. As a natural consequence, but without the conscious
connivance of my professor, I then and there became a young rebel. But
who could have studied German history under such a teacher and not
become an enemy of that State whose rulers exercised such a disastrous
influence on the destinies of the German nation? Finally, how could one
remain the faithful subject of the House of Habsburg, whose past history
and present conduct proved it to be ready ever and always to betray the
interests of the German people for the sake of paltry personal
interests? Did not we as youngsters fully realize that the House of
Habsburg did not, and could not, have any love for us Germans?

What history taught us about the policy followed by the House of
Habsburg was corroborated by our own everyday experiences. In the north
and in the south the poison of foreign races was eating into the body of
our people, and even Vienna was steadily becoming more and more a
non-German city. The 'Imperial House' favoured the Czechs on every
possible occasion. Indeed it was the hand of the goddess of eternal
justice and inexorable retribution that caused the most deadly enemy of
Germanism in Austria, the Archduke Franz Ferdinand, to fall by the very
bullets which he himself had helped to cast. Working from above
downwards, he was the chief patron of the movement to make Austria a
Slav State.

The burdens laid on the shoulders of the German people were enormous and
the sacrifices of money and blood which they had to make were incredibly
heavy.

Yet anybody who was not quite blind must have seen that it was all in
vain. What affected us most bitterly was the consciousness of the fact
that this whole system was morally shielded by the alliance with
Germany, whereby the slow extirpation of Germanism in the old Austrian
Monarchy seemed in some way to be more or less sanctioned by Germany
herself. Habsburg hypocrisy, which endeavoured outwardly to make the
people believe that Austria still remained a German State, increased the
feeling of hatred against the Imperial House and at the same time
aroused a spirit of rebellion and contempt.

But in the German Empire itself those who were then its rulers saw
nothing of what all this meant. As if struck blind, they stood beside a
corpse and in the very symptoms of decomposition they believed that they
recognized the signs of a renewed vitality. In that unhappy alliance
between the young German Empire and the illusory Austrian State lay the
germ of the World War and also of the final collapse.

In the subsequent pages of this book I shall go to the root of the
problem. Suffice it to say here that in the very early years of my youth
I came to certain conclusions which I have never abandoned. Indeed I
became more profoundly convinced of them as the years passed. They were:
That the dissolution of the Austrian Empire is a preliminary condition
for the defence of Germany; further, that national feeling is by no
means identical with dynastic patriotism; finally, and above all, that
the House of Habsburg was destined to bring misfortune to the German
nation.

As a logical consequence of these convictions, there arose in me a
feeling of intense love for my German-Austrian home and a profound
hatred for the Austrian State.

That kind of historical thinking which was developed in me through my
study of history at school never left me afterwards. World history
became more and more an inexhaustible source for the understanding of
contemporary historical events, which means politics. Therefore I will
not "learn" politics but let politics teach me.

A precocious revolutionary in politics I was no less a precocious
revolutionary in art. At that time the provincial capital of Upper
Austria had a theatre which, relatively speaking, was not bad. Almost
everything was played there. When I was twelve years old I saw William
Tell performed. That was my first experience of the theatre. Some months
later I attended a performance of LOHENGRIN, the first opera I had ever
heard. I was fascinated at once. My youthful enthusiasm for the Bayreuth
Master knew no limits. Again and again I was drawn to hear his operas;
and to-day I consider it a great piece of luck that these modest
productions in the little provincial city prepared the way and made it
possible for me to appreciate the better productions later on.

But all this helped to intensify my profound aversion for the career
that my father had chosen for me; and this dislike became especially
strong as the rough corners of youthful boorishness became worn off, a
process which in my case caused a good deal of pain. I became more and
more convinced that I should never be happy as a State official. And now
that the REALSCHULE had recognized and acknowledged my aptitude for
drawing, my own resolution became all the stronger. Imprecations and
threats had no longer any chance of changing it. I wanted to become a
painter and no power in the world could force me to become a civil
servant. The only peculiar feature of the situation now was that as I
grew bigger I became more and more interested in architecture. I
considered this fact as a natural development of my flair for painting
and I rejoiced inwardly that the sphere of my artistic interests was
thus enlarged. I had no notion that one day it would have to be
otherwise.

The question of my career was decided much sooner than I could have
expected.

When I was in my thirteenth year my father was suddenly taken from us.
He was still in robust health when a stroke of apoplexy painlessly ended
his earthly wanderings and left us all deeply bereaved. His most ardent
longing was to be able to help his son to advance in a career and thus
save me from the harsh ordeal that he himself had to go through. But it
appeared to him then as if that longing were all in vain. And yet,
though he himself was not conscious of it, he had sown the seeds of a
future which neither of us foresaw at that time.

At first nothing changed outwardly.

My mother felt it her duty to continue my education in accordance with
my father's wishes, which meant that she would have me study for the
civil service. For my own part I was even more firmly determined than
ever before that under no circumstances would I become an official of
the State. The curriculum and teaching methods followed in the middle
school were so far removed from my ideals that I became profoundly
indifferent. Illness suddenly came to my assistance. Within a few weeks
it decided my future and put an end to the long-standing family
conflict. My lungs became so seriously affected that the doctor advised
my mother very strongly not under any circumstances to allow me to take
up a career which would necessitate working in an office. He ordered
that I should give up attendance at the REALSCHULE for a year at least.
What I had secretly desired for such a long time, and had persistently
fought for, now became a reality almost at one stroke.

Influenced by my illness, my mother agreed that I should leave the
REALSCHULE and attend the Academy.

Those were happy days, which appeared to me almost as a dream; but they
were bound to remain only a dream. Two years later my mother's death put
a brutal end to all my fine projects. She succumbed to a long and
painful illness which from the very beginning permitted little hope of
recovery. Though expected, her death came as a terrible blow to me. I
respected my father, but I loved my mother.

Poverty and stern reality forced me to decide promptly.

The meagre resources of the family had been almost entirely used up
through my mother's severe illness. The allowance which came to me as an
orphan was not enough for the bare necessities of life. Somehow or other
I would have to earn my own bread.

With my clothes and linen packed in a valise and with an indomitable
resolution in my heart, I left for Vienna. I hoped to forestall fate, as
my father had done fifty years before. I was determined to become
'something'--but certainly not a civil servant.




CHAPTER II



YEARS OF STUDY AND SUFFERING IN VIENNA


When my mother died my fate had already been decided in one respect.
During the last months of her illness I went to Vienna to take the
entrance examination for the Academy of Fine Arts. Armed with a bulky
packet of sketches, I felt convinced that I should pass the examination
quite easily. At the REALSCHULE I was by far the best student in the
drawing class, and since that time I had made more than ordinary
progress in the practice of drawing. Therefore I was pleased with myself
and was proud and happy at the prospect of what I considered an assured
success.

But there was one misgiving: It seemed to me that I was better qualified
for drawing than for painting, especially in the various branches of
architectural drawing. At the same time my interest in architecture was
constantly increasing. And I advanced in this direction at a still more
rapid pace after my first visit to Vienna, which lasted two weeks. I was
not yet sixteen years old. I went to the Hof Museum to study the
paintings in the art gallery there; but the building itself captured
almost all my interest, from early morning until late at night I spent
all my time visiting the various public buildings. And it was the
buildings themselves that were always the principal attraction for me.
For hours and hours I could stand in wonderment before the Opera and the
Parliament. The whole Ring Strasse had a magic effect upon me, as if it
were a scene from the Thousand-and-one-Nights.

And now I was here for the second time in this beautiful city,
impatiently waiting to hear the result of the entrance examination but
proudly confident that I had got through. I was so convinced of my
success that when the news that I had failed to pass was brought to me
it struck me like a bolt from the skies. Yet the fact was that I had
failed. I went to see the Rector and asked him to explain the reasons
why they refused to accept me as a student in the general School of
Painting, which was part of the Academy. He said that the sketches which
I had brought with me unquestionably showed that painting was not what I
was suited for but that the same sketches gave clear indications of my
aptitude for architectural designing. Therefore the School of Painting
did not come into question for me but rather the School of Architecture,
which also formed part of the Academy. At first it was impossible to
understand how this could be so, seeing that I had never been to a
school for architecture and had never received any instruction in
architectural designing.

When I left the Hansen Palace, on the SCHILLER PLATZ, I was quite
crestfallen. I felt out of sorts with myself for the first time in my
young life. For what I had heard about my capabilities now appeared to
me as a lightning flash which clearly revealed a dualism under which I
had been suffering for a long time, but hitherto I could give no clear
account whatsoever of the why and wherefore.

Within a few days I myself also knew that I ought to become an
architect. But of course the way was very difficult. I was now forced
bitterly to rue my former conduct in neglecting and despising certain
subjects at the REALSCHULE. Before taking up the courses at the School
of Architecture in the Academy it was necessary to attend the Technical
Building School; but a necessary qualification for entrance into this
school was a Leaving Certificate from the Middle School. And this I
simply did not have. According to the human measure of things my dream
of following an artistic calling seemed beyond the limits of
possibility.

After the death of my mother I came to Vienna for the third time. This
visit was destined to last several years. Since I had been there before
I had recovered my old calm and resoluteness. The former self-assurance
had come back, and I had my eyes steadily fixed on the goal. I would be
an architect. Obstacles are placed across our path in life, not to be
boggled at but to be surmounted. And I was fully determined to surmount
these obstacles, having the picture of my father constantly before my
mind, who had raised himself by his own efforts to the position of a
civil servant though he was the poor son of a village shoemaker. I had a
better start, and the possibilities of struggling through were better.
At that time my lot in life seemed to me a harsh one; but to-day I see
in it the wise workings of Providence. The Goddess of Fate clutched me
in her hands and often threatened to smash me; but the will grew
stronger as the obstacles increased, and finally the will triumphed.

I am thankful for that period of my life, because it hardened me and
enabled me to be as tough as I now am. And I am even more thankful
because I appreciate the fact that I was thus saved from the emptiness
of a life of ease and that a mother's darling was taken from tender arms
and handed over to Adversity as to a new mother. Though I then rebelled
against it as too hard a fate, I am grateful that I was thrown into a
world of misery and poverty and thus came to know the people for whom I
was afterwards to fight.

It was during this period that my eyes were opened to two perils, the
names of which I scarcely knew hitherto and had no notion whatsoever of
their terrible significance for the existence of the German people.
These two perils were Marxism and Judaism.

For many people the name of Vienna signifies innocent jollity, a festive
place for happy mortals. For me, alas, it is a living memory of the
saddest period in my life. Even to-day the mention of that city arouses
only gloomy thoughts in my mind. Five years of poverty in that Phaecian
(Note 5) town. Five years in which, first as a casual labourer and then as
a painter of little trifles, I had to earn my daily bread. And a meagre
morsel indeed it was, not even sufficient to still the hunger which I
constantly felt. That hunger was the faithful guardian which never left
me but took part in everything I did. Every book that I bought meant
renewed hunger, and every visit I paid to the opera meant the intrusion
of that inalienabl companion during the following days. I was always
struggling with my unsympathic friend. And yet during that time I
learned more than I had ever learned before. Outside my architectural
studies and rare visits to the opera, for which I had to deny myself
food, I had no other pleasure in life except my books.

[Note 5. The Phaecians were a legendary people, mentioned in Homer's
Odyssey. They were supposed to live on some unknown island in the Eastern
Mediterranean, sometimes suggested to be Corcyra, the modern Corfu. They
loved good living more than work, and so the name Phaecian has come to be
a synonym for parasite.]

I read a great deal then, and I pondered deeply over what I read. All
the free time after work was devoted exclusively to study. Thus within a
few years I was able to acquire a stock of knowledge which I find useful
even to-day.

But more than that. During those years a view of life and a definite
outlook on the world took shape in my mind. These became the granite
basis of my conduct at that time. Since then I have extended that
foundation only very little, and I have changed nothing in it.

On the contrary: I am firmly convinced to-day that, generally speaking,
it is in youth that men lay the essential groundwork of their creative
thought, wherever that creative thought exists. I make a distinction
between the wisdom of age--which can only arise from the greater
profundity and foresight that are based on the experiences of a long
life--and the creative genius of youth, which blossoms out in thought
and ideas with inexhaustible fertility, without being able to put these
into practice immediately, because of their very superabundance. These
furnish the building materials and plans for the future; and it is from
them that age takes the stones and builds the edifice, unless the
so-called wisdom of the years may have smothered the creative genius of
youth.

The life which I had hitherto led at home with my parents differed in
little or nothing from that of all the others. I looked forward without
apprehension to the morrow, and there was no such thing as a social
problem to be faced. Those among whom I passed my young days belonged to
the small bourgeois class. Therefore it was a world that had very little
contact with the world of genuine manual labourers. For, though at first
this may appear astonishing, the ditch which separates that class, which
is by no means economically well-off; from the manual labouring class is
often deeper than people think. The reason for this division, which we
may almost call enmity, lies in the fear that dominates a social group
which has only just risen above the level of the manual labourer--a fear
lest it may fall back into its old condition or at least be classed with
the labourers. Moreover, there is something repulsive in remembering the
cultural indigence of that lower class and their rough manners with one
another; so that people who are only on the first rung of the social
ladder find it unbearable to be forced to have any contact with the
cultural level and standard of living out of which they have passed.

And so it happens that very often those who belong to what can really be
called the upper classes find it much easier than do the upstarts to
descend to and intermingle with their fellow beings on the lowest social
level. For by the word upstart I mean everyone who has raised himself
through his own efforts to a social level higher than that to which he
formerly belonged. In the case of such a person the hard struggle
through which he passes often destroys his normal human sympathy. His
own fight for existence kills his sensibility for the misery of those
who have been left behind.

From this point of view fate had been kind to me. Circumstances forced
me to return to that world of poverty and economic insecurity above
which my father had raised himself in his early days; and thus the
blinkers of a narrow PETIT BOURGEOIS education were torn from my eyes.
Now for the first time I learned to know men and I learned to
distinguish between empty appearances or brutal manners and the real
inner nature of the people who outwardly appeared thus.

At the beginning of the century Vienna had already taken rank among
those cities where social conditions are iniquitous. Dazzling riches and
loathsome destitution were intermingled in violent contrast. In the
centre and in the Inner City one felt the pulse-beat of an Empire which
had a population of fifty-two millions, with all the perilous charm of a
State made up of multiple nationalities. The dazzling splendour of the
Court acted like a magnet on the wealth and intelligence of the whole
Empire. And this attraction was further strengthened by the dynastic
policy of the Habsburg Monarchy in centralizing everything in itself and
for itself.

This centralizing policy was necessary in order to hold together that
hotchpotch of heterogeneous nationalities. But the result of it was an
extraordinary concentration of higher officials in the city, which was
at one and the same time the metropolis and imperial residence.

But Vienna was not merely the political and intellectual centre of the
Danubian Monarchy; it was also the commercial centre. Besides the horde
of military officers of high rank, State officials, artists and
scientists, there was the still vaster horde of workers. Abject poverty
confronted the wealth of the aristocracy and the merchant class face to
face. Thousands of unemployed loitered in front of the palaces on the
Ring Strasse; and below that VIA TRIUMPHALIS of the old Austria the
homeless huddled together in the murk and filth of the canals.

There was hardly any other German city in which the social problem could
be studied better than in Vienna. But here I must utter a warning
against the illusion that this problem can be 'studied' from above
downwards. The man who has never been in the clutches of that crushing
viper can never know what its poison is. An attempt to study it in any
other way will result only in superficial talk and sentimental
delusions. Both are harmful. The first because it can never go to the
root of the question, the second because it evades the question
entirely. I do not know which is the more nefarious: to ignore social
distress, as do the majority of those who have been favoured by fortune
and those who have risen in the social scale through their own routine
labour, or the equally supercilious and often tactless but always
genteel condescension displayed by people who make a fad of being
charitable and who plume themselves on 'sympathising with the people.'
Of course such persons sin more than they can imagine from lack of
instinctive understanding. And thus they are astonished to find that the
'social conscience' on which they pride themselves never produces any
results, but often causes their good intentions to be resented; and then
they talk of the ingratitude of the people.

Such persons are slow to learn that here there is no place for merely
social activities and that there can be no expectation of gratitude; for
in this connection there is no question at all of distributing favours
but essentially a matter of retributive justice. I was protected against
the temptation to study the social question in the way just mentioned,
for the simple reason that I was forced to live in the midst of
poverty-stricken people. Therefore it was not a question of studying the
problem objectively, but rather one of testing its effects on myself.
Though the rabbit came through the ordeal of the experiment, this must
not be taken as evidence of its harmlessness.

When I try to-day to recall the succession of impressions received
during that time I find that I can do so only with approximate
completeness. Here I shall describe only the more essential impressions
and those which personally affected me and often staggered me. And I
shall mention the few lessons I then learned from this experience.

At that time it was for the most part not very difficult to find work,
because I had to seek work not as a skilled tradesman but as a so-called
extra-hand ready to take any job that turned up by chance, just for the
sake of earning my daily bread.

Thus I found myself in the same situation as all those emigrants who
shake the dust of Europe from their feet, with the cast-iron
determination to lay the foundations of a new existence in the New World
and acquire for themselves a new home. Liberated from all the paralysing
prejudices of class and calling, environment and tradition, they enter
any service that opens its doors to them, accepting any work that comes
their way, filled more and more with the idea that honest work never
disgraced anybody, no matter what kind it may be. And so I was resolved
to set both feet in what was for me a new world and push forward on my
own road.

I soon found out that there was some kind of work always to be got, but
I also learned that it could just as quickly and easily be lost. The
uncertainty of being able to earn a regular daily livelihood soon
appeared to me as the gloomiest feature in this new life that I had
entered.

Although the skilled worker was not so frequently thrown idle on the
streets as the unskilled worker, yet the former was by no means
protected against the same fate; because though he may not have to face
hunger as a result of unemployment due to the lack of demand in the
labour market, the lock-out and the strike deprived the skilled worker
of the chance to earn his bread. Here the element of uncertainty in
steadily earning one's daily bread was the bitterest feature of the
whole social-economic system itself.

The country lad who migrates to the big city feels attracted by what has
been described as easy work--which it may be in reality--and few working
hours. He is especially entranced by the magic glimmer spread over the
big cities. Accustomed in the country to earn a steady wage, he has been
taught not to quit his former post until a new one is at least in sight.
As there is a great scarcity of agricultural labour, the probability of
long unemployment in the country has been very small. It is a mistake to
presume that the lad who leaves the countryside for the town is not made
of such sound material as those who remain at home to work on the land.
On the contrary, experience shows that it is the more healthy and more
vigorous that emigrate, and not the reverse. Among these emigrants I
include not merely those who emigrate to America, but also the servant
boy in the country who decides to leave his native village and migrate
to the big city where he will be a stranger. He is ready to take the
risk of an uncertain fate. In most cases he comes to town with a little
money in his pocket and for the first few days he is not discouraged if
he should not have the good fortune to find work. But if he finds a job
and then loses it in a little while, the case is much worse. To find
work anew, especially in winter, is often difficult and indeed sometimes
impossible. For the first few weeks life is still bearable He receives
his out-of-work money from his trade union and is thus enabled to carry
on. But when the last of his own money is gone and his trade union
ceases to pay out because of the prolonged unemployment, then comes the
real distress. He now loiters about and is hungry. Often he pawns or
sells the last of his belongings. His clothes begin to get shabby and
with the increasing poverty of his outward appearance he descends to a
lower social level and mixes up with a class of human beings through
whom his mind is now poisoned, in addition to his physical misery. Then
he has nowhere to sleep and if that happens in winter, which is very
often the case, he is in dire distress. Finally he gets work. But the
old story repeats itself. A second time the same thing happens. Then a
third time; and now it is probably much worse. Little by little he
becomes indifferent to this everlasting insecurity. Finally he grows
used to the repetition. Thus even a man who is normally of industrious
habits grows careless in his whole attitude towards life and gradually
becomes an instrument in the hands of unscrupulous people who exploit
him for the sake of their own ignoble aims. He has been so often thrown
out of employment through no fault of his own that he is now more or
less indifferent whether the strike in which he takes part be for the
purpose of securing his economic rights or be aimed at the destruction
of the State, the whole social order and even civilization itself.
Though the idea of going on strike may not be to his natural liking, yet
he joins in it out of sheer indifference.

I saw this process exemplified before my eyes in thousands of cases. And
the longer I observed it the greater became my dislike for that mammoth
city which greedily attracts men to its bosom, in order to break them
mercilessly in the end. When they came they still felt themselves in
communion with their own people at home; if they remained that tie was
broken.

I was thrown about so much in the life of the metropolis that I
experienced the workings of this fate in my own person and felt the
effects of it in my own soul. One thing stood out clearly before my
eyes: It was the sudden changes from work to idleness and vice versa; so
that the constant fluctuations thus caused by earnings and expenditure
finally destroyed the 'sense of thrift for many people and also the
habit of regulating expenditure in an intelligent way. The body appeared
to grow accustomed to the vicissitudes of food and hunger, eating
heartily in good times and going hungry in bad. Indeed hunger shatters
all plans for rationing expenditure on a regular scale in better times
when employment is again found. The reason for this is that the
deprivations which the unemployed worker has to endure must be
compensated for psychologically by a persistent mental mirage in which
he imagines himself eating heartily once again. And this dream develops
into such a longing that it turns into a morbid impulse to cast off all
self-restraint when work and wages turn up again. Therefore the moment
work is found anew he forgets to regulate the expenditure of his
earnings but spends them to the full without thinking of to-morrow. This
leads to confusion in the little weekly housekeeping budget, because the
expenditure is not rationally planned. When the phenomenon which I have
mentioned first happens, the earnings will last perhaps for five days
instead of seven; on subsequent occasions they will last only for three
days; as the habit recurs, the earnings will last scarcely for a day;
and finally they will disappear in one night of feasting.

Often there are wife and children at home. And in many cases it happens
that these become infected by such a way of living, especially if the
husband is good to them and wants to do the best he can for them and
loves them in his own way and according to his own lights. Then the
week's earnings are spent in common at home within two or three days.
The family eat and drink together as long as the money lasts and at the
end of the week they hunger together. Then the wife wanders about
furtively in the neighbourhood, borrows a little, and runs up small
debts with the shopkeepers in an effort to pull through the lean days
towards the end of the week. They sit down together to the midday meal
with only meagre fare on the table, and often even nothing to eat. They
wait for the coming payday, talking of it and making plans; and while
they are thus hungry they dream of the plenty that is to come. And so
the little children become acquainted with misery in their early years.

But the evil culminates when the husband goes his own way from the
beginning of the week and the wife protests, simply out of love for the
children. Then there are quarrels and bad feeling and the husband takes
to drink according as he becomes estranged from his wife. He now becomes
drunk every Saturday. Fighting for her own existence and that of the
children, the wife has to hound him along the road from the factory to
the tavern in order to get a few shillings from him on payday. Then when
he finally comes home, maybe on the Sunday or the Monday, having parted
with his last shillings and pence, pitiable scenes follow, scenes that
cry out for God's mercy.

I have had actual experience of all this in hundreds of cases. At first
I was disgusted and indignant; but later on I came to recognize the
whole tragedy of their misfortune and to understand the profound causes
of it. They were the unhappy victims of evil circumstances.

Housing conditions were very bad at that time. The Vienna manual
labourers lived in surroundings of appalling misery. I shudder even
to-day when I think of the woeful dens in which people dwelt, the night
shelters and the slums, and all the tenebrous spectacles of ordure,
loathsome filth and wickedness.

What will happen one day when hordes of emancipated slaves come forth
from these dens of misery to swoop down on their unsuspecting fellow
men? For this other world does not think about such a possibility. They
have allowed these things to go on without caring and even without
suspecting--in their total lack of instinctive understanding--that
sooner or later destiny will take its vengeance unless it will have been
appeased in time.

To-day I fervidly thank Providence for having sent me to such a school.
There I could not refuse to take an interest in matters that did not
please me. This school soon taught me a profound lesson.

In order not to despair completely of the people among whom I then lived
I had to set on one side the outward appearances of their lives and on
the other the reasons why they had developed in that way. Then I could
hear everything without discouragement; for those who emerged from all
this misfortune and misery, from this filth and outward degradation,
were not human beings as such but rather lamentable results of
lamentable laws. In my own life similar hardships prevented me from
giving way to a pitying sentimentality at the sight of these degraded
products which had finally resulted from the pressure of circumstances.
No, the sentimental attitude would be the wrong one to adopt.

Even in those days I already saw that there was a two-fold method by
which alone it would be possible to bring about an amelioration of these
conditions. This method is: first, to create better fundamental
conditions of social development by establishing a profound feeling for
social responsibilities among the public; second, to combine this
feeling for social responsibilities with a ruthless determination to
prune away all excrescences which are incapable of being improved.

Just as Nature concentrates its greatest attention, not to the
maintenance of what already exists but on the selective breeding of
offspring in order to carry on the species, so in human life also it is
less a matter of artificially improving the existing generation--which,
owing to human characteristics, is impossible in ninety-nine cases out
of a hundred--and more a matter of securing from the very start a better
road for future development.

During my struggle for existence in Vienna I perceived very clearly that
the aim of all social activity must never be merely charitable relief,
which is ridiculous and useless, but it must rather be a means to find a
way of eliminating the fundamental deficiencies in our economic and
cultural life--deficiencies which necessarily bring about the
degradation of the individual or at least lead him towards such
degradation. The difficulty of employing every means, even the most
drastic, to eradicate the hostility prevailing among the working classes
towards the State is largely due to an attitude of uncertainty in
deciding upon the inner motives and causes of this contemporary
phenomenon. The grounds of this uncertainty are to be found exclusively
in the sense of guilt which each individual feels for having permitted
this tragedy of degradation. For that feeling paralyses every effort at
making a serious and firm decision to act. And thus because the people
whom it concerns are vacillating they are timid and half-hearted in
putting into effect even the measures which are indispensable for
self-preservation. When the individual is no longer burdened with his
own consciousness of blame in this regard, then and only then will he
have that inner tranquillity and outer force to cut off drastically and
ruthlessly all the parasite growth and root out the weeds.

But because the Austrian State had almost no sense of social rights or
social legislation its inability to abolish those evil excrescences was
manifest.

I do not know what it was that appalled me most at that time: the
economic misery of those who were then my companions, their crude
customs and morals, or the low level of their intellectual culture.

How often our bourgeoisie rises up in moral indignation on hearing from
the mouth of some pitiable tramp that it is all the same to him whether
he be a German or not and that he will find himself at home wherever he
can get enough to keep body and soul together. They protest sternly
against such a lack of 'national pride' and strongly express their
horror at such sentiments.

But how many people really ask themselves why it is that their own
sentiments are better? How many of them understand that their natural
pride in being members of so favoured a nation arises from the
innumerable succession of instances they have encountered which remind
them of the greatness of the Fatherland and the Nation in all spheres of
artistic and cultural life? How many of them realize that pride in the
Fatherland is largely dependent on knowledge of its greatness in all
those spheres? Do our bourgeois circles ever think what a ridiculously
meagre share the people have in that knowledge which is a necessary
prerequisite for the feeling of pride in one's fatherland?

It cannot be objected here that in other countries similar conditions
exist and that nevertheless the working classes in those countries have
remained patriotic. Even if that were so, it would be no excuse for our
negligent attitude. But it is not so. What we call chauvinistic
education--in the case of the French people, for example--is only the
excessive exaltation of the greatness of France in all spheres of
culture or, as the French say, civilization. The French boy is not
educated on purely objective principles. Wherever the importance of the
political and cultural greatness of his country is concerned he is
taught in the most subjective way that one can imagine.

This education will always have to be confined to general ideas in a
large perspective and these ought to be deeply engraven, by constant
repetition if necessary, on the memories and feelings of the people.

In our case, however, we are not merely guilty of negative sins of
omission but also of positively perverting the little which some
individuals had the luck to learn at school. The rats that poison our
body-politic gnaw from the hearts and memories of the broad masses even
that little which distress and misery have left.

Let the reader try to picture the following:

There is a lodging in a cellar and this lodging consists of two damp
rooms. In these rooms a workman and his family live--seven people in
all. Let us assume that one of the children is a boy of three years.
That is the age at which children first become conscious of the
impressions which they receive. In the case of highly gifted people
traces of the impressions received in those early years last in the
memory up to an advanced age. Now the narrowness and congestion of those
living quarters do not conduce to pleasant inter-relations. Thus
quarrels and fits of mutual anger arise. These people can hardly be said
to live with one another, but rather down on top of one another. The
small misunderstandings which disappear of themselves in a home where
there is enough space for people to go apart from one another for a
while, here become the source of chronic disputes. As far as the
children are concerned the situation is tolerable from this point of
view. In such conditions they are constantly quarrelling with one
another, but the quarrels are quickly and entirely forgotten. But when
the parents fall out with one another these daily bickerings often
descend to rudeness such as cannot be adequately imagined. The results
of such experiences must become apparent later on in the children. One
must have practical experience of such a MILIEU so as to be able to
picture the state of affairs that arises from these mutual
recriminations when the father physically assaults the mother and
maltreats her in a fit of drunken rage. At the age of six the child can
no longer ignore those sordid details which even an adult would find
revolting. Infected with moral poison, bodily undernourished, and the
poor little head filled with vermin, the young 'citizen' goes to the
primary school. With difficulty he barely learns to read and write.
There is no possibility of learning any lessons at home. Quite the
contrary. The father and mother themselves talk before the children in
the most disparaging way about the teacher and the school and they are
much more inclined to insult the teachers than to put their offspring
across the knee and knock sound reason into him. What the little fellow
hears at home does not tend to increase respect for his human
surroundings. Here nothing good is said of human nature as a whole and
every institution, from the school to the government, is reviled.
Whether religion and morals are concerned or the State and the social
order, it is all the same; they are all scoffed at. When the young lad
leaves school, at the age of fourteen, it would be difficult to say what
are the most striking features of his character, incredible ignorance in
so far as real knowledge is concerned or cynical impudence combined with
an attitude towards morality which is really startling at so young an
age.

What station in life can such a person fill, to whom nothing is sacred,
who has never experienced anything noble but, on the contrary, has been
intimately acquainted with the lowest kind of human existence? This
child of three has got into the habit of reviling all authority by the
time he is fifteen. He has been acquainted only with moral filth and
vileness, everything being excluded that might stimulate his thought
towards higher things. And now this young specimen of humanity enters
the school of life.

He leads the same kind of life which was exemplified for him by his
father during his childhood. He loiters about and comes home at all
hours. He now even black-guards that broken-hearted being who gave him
birth. He curses God and the world and finally ends up in a House of
Correction for young people. There he gets the final polish.

And his bourgeois contemporaries are astonished at the lack of
'patriotic enthusiasm' which this young 'citizen' manifests.

Day after day the bourgeois world are witnesses to the phenomenon of
spreading poison among the people through the instrumentality of the
theatre and the cinema, gutter journalism and obscene books; and yet
they are astonished at the deplorable 'moral standards' and 'national
indifference' of the masses. As if the cinema bilge and the gutter press
and suchlike could inculcate knowledge of the greatness of one's
country, apart entirely from the earlier education of the individual.

I then came to understand, quickly and thoroughly, what I had never been
aware of before. It was the following:

The question of 'nationalizing' a people is first and foremost one of
establishing healthy social conditions which will furnish the grounds
that are necessary for the education of the individual. For only when
family upbringing and school education have inculcated in the individual
a knowledge of the cultural and economic and, above all, the political
greatness of his own country--then, and then only, will it be possible
for him to feel proud of being a citizen of such a country. I can fight
only for something that I love. I can love only what I respect. And in
order to respect a thing I must at least have some knowledge of it.

As soon as my interest in social questions was once awakened I began to
study them in a fundamental way. A new and hitherto unknown world was
thus revealed to me.

In the years 1909-10 I had so far improved my, position that I no longer
had to earn my daily bread as a manual labourer. I was now working
independently as draughtsman, and painter in water colours. This MÉTIER
was a poor one indeed as far as earnings were concerned; for these were
only sufficient to meet the bare exigencies of life. Yet it had an
interest for me in view of the profession to which I aspired. Moreover,
when I came home in the evenings I was now no longer dead-tired as
formerly, when I used to be unable to look into a book without falling
asleep almost immediately. My present occupation therefore was in line
with the profession I aimed at for the future. Moreover, I was master of
my own time and could distribute my working-hours now better than
formerly. I painted in order to earn my bread, and I studied because I
liked it.

Thus I was able to acquire that theoretical knowledge of the social
problem which was a necessary complement to what I was learning through
actual experience. I studied all the books which I could find that dealt
with this question and I thought deeply on what I read. I think that the
MILIEU in which I then lived considered me an eccentric person.

Besides my interest in the social question I naturally devoted myself
with enthusiasm to the study of architecture. Side by side with music, I
considered it queen of the arts. To study it was for me not work but
pleasure. I could read or draw until the small hours of the morning
without ever getting tired. And I became more and more confident that my
dream of a brilliant future would become true, even though I should have
to wait long years for its fulfilment. I was firmly convinced that one
day I should make a name for myself as an architect.

The fact that, side by side with my professional studies, I took the
greatest interest in everything that had to do with politics did not
seem to me to signify anything of great importance. On the contrary: I
looked upon this practical interest in politics merely as part of an
elementary obligation that devolves on every thinking man. Those who
have no understanding of the political world around them have no right
to criticize or complain. On political questions therefore I still
continued to read and study a great deal. But reading had probably a
different significance for me from that which it has for the average run
of our so-called 'intellectuals'.

I know people who read interminably, book after book, from page to page,
and yet I should not call them 'well-read people'. Of course they 'know'
an immense amount; but their brain seems incapable of assorting and
classifying the material which they have gathered from books. They have
not the faculty of distinguishing between what is useful and useless in
a book; so that they may retain the former in their minds and if
possible skip over the latter while reading it, if that be not possible,
then--when once read--throw it overboard as useless ballast. Reading is
not an end in itself, but a means to an end. Its chief purpose is to
help towards filling in the framework which is made up of the talents
and capabilities that each individual possesses. Thus each one procures
for himself the implements and materials necessary for the fulfilment of
his calling in life, no matter whether this be the elementary task of
earning one's daily bread or a calling that responds to higher human
aspirations. Such is the first purpose of reading. And the second
purpose is to give a general knowledge of the world in which we live. In
both cases, however, the material which one has acquired through reading
must not be stored up in the memory on a plan that corresponds to the
successive chapters of the book; but each little piece of knowledge thus
gained must be treated as if it were a little stone to be inserted into
a mosaic, so that it finds its proper place among all the other pieces
and particles that help to form a general world-picture in the brain of
the reader. Otherwise only a confused jumble of chaotic notions will
result from all this reading. That jumble is not merely useless, but it
also tends to make the unfortunate possessor of it conceited. For he
seriously considers himself a well-educated person and thinks that he
understands something of life. He believes that he has acquired
knowledge, whereas the truth is that every increase in such 'knowledge'
draws him more and more away from real life, until he finally ends up in
some sanatorium or takes to politics and becomes a parliamentary deputy.

Such a person never succeeds in turning his knowledge to practical
account when the opportune moment arrives; for his mental equipment is
not ordered with a view to meeting the demands of everyday life. His
knowledge is stored in his brain as a literal transcript of the books he
has read and the order of succession in which he has read them. And if
Fate should one day call upon him to use some of his book-knowledge for
certain practical ends in life that very call will have to name the book
and give the number of the page; for the poor noodle himself would never
be able to find the spot where he gathered the information now called
for. But if the page is not mentioned at the critical moment the
widely-read intellectual will find himself in a state of hopeless
embarrassment. In a high state of agitation he searches for analogous
cases and it is almost a dead certainty that he will finally deliver the
wrong prescription.

If that is not a correct description, then how can we explain the
political achievements of our Parliamentary heroes who hold the highest
positions in the government of the country? Otherwise we should have to
attribute the doings of such political leaders, not to pathological
conditions but simply to malice and chicanery.

On the other hand, one who has cultivated the art of reading will
instantly discern, in a book or journal or pamphlet, what ought to be
remembered because it meets one's personal needs or is of value as
general knowledge. What he thus learns is incorporated in his mental
analogue of this or that problem or thing, further correcting the mental
picture or enlarging it so that it becomes more exact and precise.
Should some practical problem suddenly demand examination or solution,
memory will immediately select the opportune information from the mass
that has been acquired through years of reading and will place this
information at the service of one's powers of judgment so as to get a
new and clearer view of the problem in question or produce a definitive
solution.

Only thus can reading have any meaning or be worth while.

The speaker, for example, who has not the sources of information ready
to hand which are necessary to a proper treatment of his subject is
unable to defend his opinions against an opponent, even though those
opinions be perfectly sound and true. In every discussion his memory
will leave him shamefully in the lurch. He cannot summon up arguments to
support his statements or to refute his opponent. So long as the speaker
has only to defend himself on his own personal account, the situation is
not serious; but the evil comes when Chance places at the head of public
affairs such a soi-disant know-it-all, who in reality knows nothing.

From early youth I endeavoured to read books in the right way and I was
fortunate in having a good memory and intelligence to assist me. From
that point of view my sojourn in Vienna was particularly useful and
profitable. My experiences of everyday life there were a constant
stimulus to study the most diverse problems from new angles. Inasmuch as
I was in a position to put theory to the test of reality and reality to
the test of theory, I was safe from the danger of pedantic theorizing on
the one hand and, on the other, from being too impressed by the
superficial aspects of reality.

The experience of everyday life at that time determined me to make a
fundamental theoretical study of two most important questions outside of
the social question.

It is impossible to say when I might have started to make a thorough
study of the doctrine and characteristics of Marxism were it not for the
fact that I then literally ran head foremost into the problem.

What I knew of Social Democracy in my youth was precious little and that
little was for the most part wrong. The fact that it led the struggle
for universal suffrage and the secret ballot gave me an inner
satisfaction; for my reason then told me that this would weaken the
Habsburg regime, which I so thoroughly detested. I was convinced that
even if it should sacrifice the German element the Danubian State could
not continue to exist. Even at the price of a long and slow Slaviz-ation
of the Austrian Germans the State would secure no guarantee of a really
durable Empire; because it was very questionable if and how far the
Slavs possessed the necessary capacity for constructive politics.
Therefore I welcomed every movement that might lead towards the final
disruption of that impossible State which had decreed that it would
stamp out the German character in ten millions of people. The more this
babel of tongues wrought discord and disruption, even in the Parliament,
the nearer the hour approached for the dissolution of this Babylonian
Empire. That would mean the liberation of my German Austrian people, and
only then would it become possible for them to be re-united to the
Motherland.

Accordingly I had no feelings of antipathy towards the actual policy of
the Social Democrats. That its avowed purpose was to raise the level of
the working classes--which in my ignorance I then foolishly
believed--was a further reason why I should speak in favour of Social
Democracy rather than against it. But the features that contributed most
to estrange me from the Social Democratic movement was its hostile
attitude towards the struggle for the conservation of Germanism in
Austria, its lamentable cocotting with the Slav 'comrades', who received
these approaches favourably as long as any practical advantages were
forthcoming but otherwise maintained a haughty reserve, thus giving the
importunate mendicants the sort of answer their behaviour deserved.

And so at the age of seventeen the word 'Marxism' was very little known
to me, while I looked on 'Social Democracy' and 'Socialism' as
synonymous expressions. It was only as the result of a sudden blow from
the rough hand of Fate that my eyes were opened to the nature of this
unparalleled system for duping the public.

Hitherto my acquaintance with the Social Democratic Party was only that
of a mere spectator at some of their mass meetings. I had not the
slightest idea of the social-democratic teaching or the mentality of its
partisans. All of a sudden I was brought face to face with the products
of their teaching and what they called their WELTANSCHAUUNG. In this
way a few months sufficed for me to learn something which under other
circumstances might have necessitated decades of study--namely, that
under the cloak of social virtue and love of one's neighbour a veritable
pestilence was spreading abroad and that if this pestilence be not
stamped out of the world without delay it may eventually succeed in
exterminating the human race.

I first came into contact with the Social Democrats while working in the
building trade.

From the very time that I started work the situation was not very
pleasant for me. My clothes were still rather decent. I was careful of
my speech and I was reserved in manner. I was so occupied with thinking
of my own present lot and future possibilities that I did not take much
of an interest in my immediate surroundings. I had sought work so that I
shouldn't starve and at the same time so as to be able to make further
headway with my studies, though this headway might be slow. Possibly I
should not have bothered to be interested in my companions were it not
that on the third or fourth day an event occurred which forced me to
take a definite stand. I was ordered to join the trade union.

At that time I knew nothing about the trades unions. I had had no
opportunity of forming an opinion on their utility or inutility, as the
case might be. But when I was told that I must join the union I refused.
The grounds which I gave for my refusal were simply that I knew nothing
about the matter and that anyhow I would not allow myself to be forced
into anything. Probably the former reason saved me from being thrown out
right away. They probably thought that within a few days I might be
converted' and become more docile. But if they thought that they were
profoundly mistaken. After two weeks I found it utterly impossible for
me to take such a step, even if I had been willing to take it at first.
During those fourteen days I came to know my fellow workmen better, and
no power in the world could have moved me to join an organization whose
representatives had meanwhile shown themselves in a light which I found
so unfavourable.

During the first days my resentment was aroused.

At midday some of my fellow workers used to adjourn to the nearest
tavern, while the others remained on the building premises and there ate
their midday meal, which in most cases was a very scanty one. These were
married men. Their wives brought them the midday soup in dilapidated
vessels. Towards the end of the week there was a gradual increase in the
number of those who remained to eat their midday meal on the building
premises. I understood the reason for this afterwards. They now talked
politics.

I drank my bottle of milk and ate my morsel of bread somewhere on the
outskirts, while I circumspectly studied my environment or else fell to
meditating on my own harsh lot. Yet I heard more than enough. And I
often thought that some of what they said was meant for my ears, in the
hope of bringing me to a decision. But all that I heard had the effect
of arousing the strongest antagonism in me. Everything was
disparaged--the nation, because it was held to be an invention of the
'capitalist' class (how often I had to listen to that phrase!); the
Fatherland, because it was held to be an instrument in the hands of the
bourgeoisie for the exploitation of' the working masses; the authority
of the law, because that was a means of holding down the proletariat;
religion, as a means of doping the people, so as to exploit them
afterwards; morality, as a badge of stupid and sheepish docility. There
was nothing that they did not drag in the mud.

At first I remained silent; but that could not last very long. Then I
began to take part in the discussion and to reply to their statements. I
had to recognize, however, that this was bound to be entirely fruitless,
as long as I did not have at least a certain amount of definite
information about the questions that were discussed. So I decided to
consult the source from which my interlocutors claimed to have drawn
their so-called wisdom. I devoured book after book, pamphlet after
pamphlet.

Meanwhile, we argued with one another on the building premises. From day
to day I was becoming better informed than my companions in the subjects
on which they claimed to be experts. Then a day came when the more
redoubtable of my adversaries resorted to the most effective weapon they
had to replace the force of reason. This was intimidation and physical
force. Some of the leaders among my adversaries ordered me to leave the
building or else get flung down from the scaffolding. As I was quite
alone I could not put up any physical resistance; so I chose the first
alternative and departed, richer however by an experience.

I went away full of disgust; but at the same time so deeply moved that
it was quite impossible for me to turn my back on the whole situation
and think no more about it. When my anger began to calm down the spirit
of obstinacy got the upper hand and I decided that at all costs I would
get back to work again in the building trade. This decision became all
the stronger a few weeks later, when my little savings had entirely run
out and hunger clutched me once again in its merciless arms. No
alternative was left to me. I got work again and had to leave it for the
same reasons as before.

Then I asked myself: Are these men worthy of belonging to a great
people? The question was profoundly disturbing; for if the answer were
'Yes', then the struggle to defend one's nationality is no longer worth
all the trouble and sacrifice we demand of our best elements if it be in
the interests of such a rabble. On the other hand, if the answer had to
be 'No--these men are not worthy of the nation', then our nation is poor
indeed in men. During those days of mental anguish and deep meditation I
saw before my mind the ever-increasing and menacing army of people who
could no longer be reckoned as belonging to their own nation.

It was with quite a different feeling, some days later, that I gazed on
the interminable ranks, four abreast, of Viennese workmen parading at a
mass demonstration. I stood dumbfounded for almost two hours, watching
that enormous human dragon which slowly uncoiled itself there before me.
When I finally left the square and wandered in the direction of my
lodgings I felt dismayed and depressed. On my way I noticed the
ARBEITERZEITUNG (The Workman's Journal) in a tobacco shop. This was the
chief press-organ of the old Austrian Social Democracy. In a cheap café,
where the common people used to foregather and where I often went to
read the papers, the ARBEITERZEITUNG was also displayed. But hitherto I
could not bring myself to do more than glance at the wretched thing for
a couple of minutes: for its whole tone was a sort of mental vitriol to
me. Under the depressing influence of the demonstration I had witnessed,
some interior voice urged me to buy the paper in that tobacco shop and
read it through. So I brought it home with me and spent the whole
evening reading it, despite the steadily mounting rage provoked by this
ceaseless outpouring of falsehoods.

I now found that in the social democratic daily papers I could study the
inner character of this politico-philosophic system much better than in
all their theoretical literature.

For there was a striking discrepancy between the two. In the literary
effusions which dealt with the theory of Social Democracy there was a
display of high-sounding phraseology about liberty and human dignity and
beauty, all promulgated with an air of profound wisdom and serene
prophetic assurance; a meticulously-woven glitter of words to dazzle and
mislead the reader. On the other hand, the daily Press inculcated this
new doctrine of human redemption in the most brutal fashion. No means
were too base, provided they could be exploited in the campaign of
slander. These journalists were real virtuosos in the art of twisting
facts and presenting them in a deceptive form. The theoretical
literature was intended for the simpletons of the soi-disant
intellectuals belonging to the middle and, naturally, the upper classes.
The newspaper propaganda was intended for the masses.

This probing into books and newspapers and studying the teachings of
Social Democracy reawakened my love for my own people. And thus what at
first seemed an impassable chasm became the occasion of a closer
affection.

Having once understood the working of the colossal system for poisoning
the popular mind, only a fool could blame the victims of it. During the
years that followed I became more independent and, as I did so, I became
better able to understand the inner cause of the success achieved by
this Social Democratic gospel. I now realized the meaning and purpose of
those brutal orders which prohibited the reading of all books and
newspapers that were not 'red' and at the same time demanded that only
the 'red' meetings should be attended. In the clear light of brutal
reality I was able to see what must have been the inevitable
consequences of that intolerant teaching.

The PSYCHE of the broad masses is accessible only to what is strong and
uncompromising. Like a woman whose inner sensibilities are not so much
under the sway of abstract reasoning but are always subject to the
influence of a vague emotional longing for the strength that completes
her being, and who would rather bow to the strong man than dominate the
weakling--in like manner the masses of the people prefer the ruler to
the suppliant and are filled with a stronger sense of mental security by
a teaching that brooks no rival than by a teaching which offers them a
liberal choice. They have very little idea of how to make such a choice
and thus they are prone to feel that they have been abandoned. They feel
very little shame at being terrorized intellectually and they are
scarcely conscious of the fact that their freedom as human beings is
impudently abused; and thus they have not the slightest suspicion of the
intrinsic fallacy of the whole doctrine. They see only the ruthless
force and brutality of its determined utterances, to which they always
submit.

IF SOCIAL DEMOCRACY SHOULD BE OPPOSED BY A MORE TRUTHFUL TEACHING, THEN
EVEN, THOUGH THE STRUGGLE BE OF THE BITTEREST KIND, THIS TRUTHFUL
TEACHING WILL FINALLY PREVAIL PROVIDED IT BE ENFORCED WITH EQUAL
RUTHLESSNESS.

Within less than two years I had gained a clear understanding of Social
Democracy, in its teaching and the technique of its operations.

I recognized the infamy of that technique whereby the movement carried
on a campaign of mental terrorism against the bourgeoisie, who are
neither morally nor spiritually equipped to withstand such attacks. The
tactics of Social Democracy consisted in opening, at a given signal, a
veritable drum-fire of lies and calumnies against the man whom they
believed to be the most redoubtable of their adversaries, until the
nerves of the latter gave way and they sacrificed the man who was
attacked, simply in the hope of being allowed to live in peace. But the
hope proved always to be a foolish one, for they were never left in
peace.

The same tactics are repeated again and again, until fear of these mad
dogs exercises, through suggestion, a paralysing effect on their
Victims.

Through its own experience Social Democracy learned the value of
strength, and for that reason it attacks mostly those in whom it scents
stuff of the more stalwart kind, which is indeed a very rare possession.
On the other hand it praises every weakling among its adversaries, more
or less cautiously, according to the measure of his mental qualities
known or presumed. They have less fear of a man of genius who lacks
will-power than of a vigorous character with mediocre intelligence and
at the same time they highly commend those who are devoid of
intelligence and will-power.

The Social Democrats know how to create the impression that they alone
are the protectors of peace. In this way, acting very circumspectly but
never losing sight of their ultimate goal, they conquer one position
after another, at one time by methods of quiet intimidation and at
another time by sheer daylight robbery, employing these latter tactics
at those moments when public attention is turned towards other matters
from which it does not wish to be diverted, or when the public considers
an incident too trivial to create a scandal about it and thus provoke
the anger of a malignant opponent.

These tactics are based on an accurate estimation of human frailties and
must lead to success, with almost mathematical certainty, unless the
other side also learns how to fight poison gas with poison gas. The
weaker natures must be told that here it is a case of to be or not to
be.

I also came to understand that physical intimidation has its
significance for the mass as well as for the individual. Here again the
Socialists had calculated accurately on the psychological effect.

Intimidation in workshops and in factories, in assembly halls and at
mass demonstrations, will always meet with success as long as it does
not have to encounter the same kind of terror in a stronger form.

Then of course the Party will raise a horrified outcry, yelling blue
murder and appealing to the authority of the State, which they have just
repudiated. In doing this their aim generally is to add to the general
confusion, so that they may have a better opportunity of reaching their
own goal unobserved. Their idea is to find among the higher government
officials some bovine creature who, in the stupid hope that he may win
the good graces of these awe-inspiring opponents so that they may
remember him in case of future eventualities, will help them now to
break all those who may oppose this world pest.

The impression which such successful tactics make on the minds of the
broad masses, whether they be adherents or opponents, can be estimated
only by one who knows the popular mind, not from books but from
practical life. For the successes which are thus obtained are taken by
the adherents of Social Democracy as a triumphant symbol of the
righteousness of their own cause; on the other hand the beaten opponent
very often loses faith in the effectiveness of any further resistance.

The more I understood the methods of physical intimidation that were
employed, the more sympathy I had for the multitude that had succumbed
to it.

I am thankful now for the ordeal which I had to go through at that time;
for it was the means of bringing me to think kindly again of my own
people, inasmuch as the experience enabled me to distinguish between the
false leaders and the victims who have been led astray.

We must look upon the latter simply as victims. I have just now tried to
depict a few traits which express the mentality of those on the lowest
rung of the social ladder; but my picture would be disproportionate if I
do not add that amid the social depths I still found light; for I
experienced a rare spirit of self-sacrifice and loyal comradeship among
those men, who demanded little from life and were content amid their
modest surroundings. This was true especially of the older generation of
workmen. And although these qualities were disappearing more and more in
the younger generation, owing to the all-pervading influence of the big
city, yet among the younger generation also there were many who were
sound at the core and who were able to maintain themselves
uncontaminated amid the sordid surroundings of their everyday existence.
If these men, who in many cases meant well and were upright in
themselves, gave the support to the political activities carried on by
the common enemies of our people, that was because those decent
workpeople did not and could not grasp the downright infamy of the
doctrine taught by the socialist agitators. Furthermore, it was because
no other section of the community bothered itself about the lot of the
working classes. Finally, the social conditions became such that men who
otherwise would have acted differently were forced to submit to them,
even though unwillingly at first. A day came when poverty gained the
upper hand and drove those workmen into the Social Democratic ranks.

On innumerable occasions the bourgeoisie took a definite stand against
even the most legitimate human demands of the working classes. That
conduct was ill-judged and indeed immoral and could bring no gain
whatsoever to the bourgeois class. The result was that the honest
workman abandoned the original concept of the trades union organization
and was dragged into politics.

There were millions and millions of workmen who began by being hostile
to the Social Democratic Party; but their defences were repeatedly
stormed and finally they had to surrender. Yet this defeat was due to
the stupidity of the bourgeois parties, who had opposed every social
demand put forward by the working class. The short-sighted refusal to
make an effort towards improving labour conditions, the refusal to adopt
measures which would insure the workman in case of accidents in the
factories, the refusal to forbid child labour, the refusal to consider
protective measures for female workers, especially expectant
mothers--all this was of assistance to the Social Democratic leaders,
who were thankful for every opportunity which they could exploit for
forcing the masses into their net. Our bourgeois parties can never
repair the damage that resulted from the mistake they then made. For
they sowed the seeds of hatred when they opposed all efforts at social
reform. And thus they gave, at least, apparent grounds to justify the
claim put forward by the Social Democrats--namely, that they alone stand
up for the interests of the working class.

And this became the principal ground for the moral justification of the
actual existence of the Trades Unions, so that the labour organization
became from that time onwards the chief political recruiting ground to
swell the ranks of the Social Democratic Party.

While thus studying the social conditions around me I was forced,
whether I liked it or not, to decide on the attitude I should take
towards the Trades Unions. Because I looked upon them as inseparable
from the Social Democratic Party, my decision was hasty--and mistaken. I
repudiated them as a matter of course. But on this essential question
also Fate intervened and gave me a lesson, with the result that I
changed the opinion which I had first formed.

When I was twenty years old I had learned to distinguish between the
Trades Union as a means of defending the social rights of the employees
and fighting for better living conditions for them and, on the other
hand, the Trades Union as a political instrument used by the Party in
the class struggle.

The Social Democrats understood the enormous importance of the Trades
Union movement. They appropriated it as an instrument and used it with
success, while the bourgeois parties failed to understand it and thus
lost their political prestige. They thought that their own arrogant VETO
would arrest the logical development of the movement and force it into
an illogical position. But it is absurd and also untrue to say that the
Trades Union movement is in itself hostile to the nation. The opposite
is the more correct view. If the activities of the Trades Union are
directed towards improving the condition of a class, and succeed in
doing so, such activities are not against the Fatherland or the State
but are, in the truest sense of the word, national. In that way the
trades union organization helps to create the social conditions which
are indispensable in a general system of national education. It deserves
high recognition when it destroys the psychological and physical germs
of social disease and thus fosters the general welfare of the nation.

It is superfluous to ask whether the Trades Union is indispensable.

So long as there are employers who attack social understanding and have
wrong ideas of justice and fair play it is not only the right but also
the duty of their employees--who are, after all, an integral part of our
people--to protect the general interests against the greed and unreason
of the individual. For to safeguard the loyalty and confidence of the
people is as much in the interests of the nation as to safeguard public
health.

Both are seriously menaced by dishonourable employers who are not
conscious of their duty as members of the national community. Their
personal avidity or irresponsibility sows the seeds of future trouble.
To eliminate the causes of such a development is an action that surely
deserves well of the country.

It must not be answered here that the individual workman is free at any
time to escape from the consequences of an injustice which he has
actually suffered at the hands of an employer, or which he thinks he has
suffered--in other words, he can leave. No. That argument is only a ruse
to detract attention from the question at issue. Is it, or is it not, in
the interests of the nation to remove the causes of social unrest? If it
is, then the fight must be carried on with the only weapons that promise
success. But the individual workman is never in a position to stand up
against the might of the big employer; for the question here is not one
that concerns the triumph of right. If in such a relation right had been
recognized as the guiding principle, then the conflict could not have
arisen at all. But here it is a question of who is the stronger. If the
case were otherwise, the sentiment of justice alone would solve the
dispute in an honourable way; or, to put the case more correctly,
matters would not have come to such a dispute at all.

No. If unsocial and dishonourable treatment of men provokes resistance,
then the stronger party can impose its decision in the conflict until
the constitutional legislative authorities do away with the evil through
legislation. Therefore it is evident that if the individual workman is
to have any chance at all of winning through in the struggle he must be
grouped with his fellow workmen and present a united front before the
individual employer, who incorporates in his own person the massed
strength of the vested interests in the industrial or commercial
undertaking which he conducts.

Thus the trades unions can hope to inculcate and strengthen a sense of
social responsibility in workaday life and open the road to practical
results. In doing this they tend to remove those causes of friction
which are a continual source of discontent and complaint.

Blame for the fact that the trades unions do not fulfil this
much-desired function must be laid at the doors of those who barred the
road to legislative social reform, or rendered such a reform ineffective
by sabotaging it through their political influence.

The political bourgeoisie failed to understand--or, rather, they did not
wish to understand--the importance of the trades union movement. The
Social Democrats accordingly seized the advantage offered them by this
mistaken policy and took the labour movement under their exclusive
protection, without any protest from the other side. In this way they
established for themselves a solid bulwark behind which they could
safely retire whenever the struggle assumed a critical aspect. Thus the
genuine purpose of the movement gradually fell into oblivion, and was
replaced by new objectives. For the Social Democrats never troubled
themselves to respect and uphold the original purpose for which the
trade unionist movement was founded. They simply took over the Movement,
lock, stock and barrel, to serve their own political ends.

Within a few decades the Trades Union Movement was transformed, by the
expert hand of Social Democracy, from an instrument which had been
originally fashioned for the defence of human rights into an instrument
for the destruction of the national economic structure. The interests of
the working class were not allowed for a moment to cross the path of
this purpose; for in politics the application of economic pressure is
always possible if the one side be sufficiently unscrupulous and the
other sufficiently inert and docile. In this case both conditions were
fulfilled.

By the beginning of the present century the Trades Unionist Movement had
already ceased to recognize the purpose for which it had been founded.
From year to year it fell more and more under the political control of
the Social Democrats, until it finally came to be used as a
battering-ram in the class struggle. The plan was to shatter, by means
of constantly repeated blows, the economic edifice in the building of
which so much time and care had been expended. Once this objective had
been reached, the destruction of the State would become a matter of
course, because the State would already have been deprived of its
economic foundations. Attention to the real interests of the
working-classes, on the part of the Social Democrats, steadily decreased
until the cunning leaders saw that it would be in their immediate
political interests if the social and cultural demands of the broad
masses remained unheeded; for there was a danger that if these masses
once felt content they could no longer be employed as mere passive
material in the political struggle.

The gloomy prospect which presented itself to the eyes of the
CONDOTTIERI of the class warfare, if the discontent of the masses were
no longer available as a war weapon, created so much anxiety among them
that they suppressed and opposed even the most elementary measures of
social reform. And conditions were such that those leaders did not have
to trouble about attempting to justify such an illogical policy.

As the masses were taught to increase and heighten their demands the
possibility of satisfying them dwindled and whatever ameliorative
measures were taken became less and less significant; so that it was at
that time possible to persuade the masses that this ridiculous measure
in which the most sacred claims of the working-classes were being
granted represented a diabolical plan to weaken their fighting power in
this easy way and, if possible, to paralyse it. One will not be
astonished at the success of these allegations if one remembers what a
small measure of thinking power the broad masses possess.

In the bourgeois camp there was high indignation over the bad faith of
the Social Democratic tactics; but nothing was done to draw a practical
conclusion and organize a counter attack from the bourgeois side. The
fear of the Social Democrats, to improve the miserable conditions of the
working-classes ought to have induced the bourgeois parties to make the
most energetic efforts in this direction and thus snatch from the hands
of the class-warfare leaders their most important weapon; but nothing of
this kind happened.

Instead of attacking the position of their adversaries the bourgeoisie
allowed itself to be pressed and harried. Finally it adopted means that
were so tardy and so insignificant that they were ineffective and were
repudiated. So the whole situation remained just as it had been before
the bourgeois intervention; but the discontent had thereby become more
serious.

Like a threatening storm, the 'Free Trades Union' hovered above the
political horizon and above the life of each individual. It was one of
the most frightful instruments of terror that threatened the security
and independence of the national economic structure, the foundations of
the State and the liberty of the individual. Above all, it was the 'Free
Trades Union' that turned democracy into a ridiculous and scorned
phrase, insulted the ideal of liberty and stigmatized that of fraternity
with the slogan 'If you will not become our comrade we shall crack your
skull'.

It was thus that I then came to know this friend of humanity. During the
years that followed my knowledge of it became wider and deeper; but I
have never changed anything in that regard.

The more I became acquainted with the external forms of Social
Democracy, the greater became my desire to understand the inner nature
of its doctrines.

For this purpose the official literature of the Party could not help
very much. In discussing economic questions its statements were false
and its proofs unsound. In treating of political aims its attitude was
insincere. Furthermore, its modern methods of chicanery in the
presentation of its arguments were profoundly repugnant to me. Its
flamboyant sentences, its obscure and incomprehensible phrases,
pretended to contain great thoughts, but they were devoid of thought,
and meaningless. One would have to be a decadent Bohemian in one of our
modern cities in order to feel at home in that labyrinth of mental
aberration, so that he might discover 'intimate experiences' amid the
stinking fumes of this literary Dadism. These writers were obviously
counting on the proverbial humility of a certain section of our people,
who believe that a person who is incomprehensible must be profoundly
wise.

In confronting the theoretical falsity and absurdity of that doctrine
with the reality of its external manifestations, I gradually came to
have a clear idea of the ends at which it aimed.

During such moments I had dark presentiments and feared something evil.
I had before me a teaching inspired by egoism and hatred, mathematically
calculated to win its victory, but the triumph of which would be a
mortal blow to humanity.

Meanwhile I had discovered the relations existing between this
destructive teaching and the specific character of a people, who up to
that time had been to me almost unknown.

Knowledge of the Jews is the only key whereby one may understand the
inner nature and therefore the real aims of Social Democracy.

The man who has come to know this race has succeeded in removing from
his eyes the veil through which he had seen the aims and meaning of his
Party in a false light; and then, out of the murk and fog of social
phrases rises the grimacing figure of Marxism.

To-day it is hard and almost impossible for me to say when the word
'Jew' first began to raise any particular thought in my mind. I do not
remember even having heard the word at home during my father's lifetime.
If this name were mentioned in a derogatory sense I think the old
gentleman would just have considered those who used it in this way as
being uneducated reactionaries. In the course of his career he had come
to be more or less a cosmopolitan, with strong views on nationalism,
which had its effect on me as well. In school, too, I found no reason to
alter the picture of things I had formed at home.

At the REALSCHULE I knew one Jewish boy. We were all on our guard in our
relations with him, but only because his reticence and certain actions
of his warned us to be discreet. Beyond that my companions and myself
formed no particular opinions in regard to him.

It was not until I was fourteen or fifteen years old that I frequently
ran up against the word 'Jew', partly in connection with political
controversies. These references aroused a slight aversion in me, and I
could not avoid an uncomfortable feeling which always came over me when
I had to listen to religious disputes. But at that time I had no other
feelings about the Jewish question.

There were very few Jews in Linz. In the course of centuries the Jews
who lived there had become Europeanized in external appearance and were
so much like other human beings that I even looked upon them as Germans.
The reason why I did not then perceive the absurdity of such an illusion
was that the only external mark which I recognized as distinguishing
them from us was the practice of their strange religion. As I thought
that they were persecuted on account of their Faith my aversion to
hearing remarks against them grew almost into a feeling of abhorrence. I
did not in the least suspect that there could be such a thing as a
systematic anti-Semitism.

Then I came to Vienna.

Confused by the mass of impressions I received from the architectural
surroundings and depressed by my own troubles, I did not at first
distinguish between the different social strata of which the population
of that mammoth city was composed. Although Vienna then had about two
hundred thousand Jews among its population of two millions, I did not
notice them. During the first weeks of my sojourn my eyes and my mind
were unable to cope with the onrush of new ideas and values. Not until I
gradually settled down to my surroundings, and the confused picture
began to grow clearer, did I acquire a more discriminating view of my
new world. And with that I came up against the Jewish problem.

I will not say that the manner in which I first became acquainted with
it was particularly unpleasant for me. In the Jew I still saw only a man
who was of a different religion, and therefore, on grounds of human
tolerance, I was against the idea that he should be attacked because he
had a different faith. And so I considered that the tone adopted by the
anti-Semitic Press in Vienna was unworthy of the cultural traditions of
a great people. The memory of certain events which happened in the
middle ages came into my mind, and I felt that I should not like to see
them repeated. Generally speaking, these anti-Semitic newspapers did not
belong to the first rank--but I did not then understand the reason of
this--and so I regarded them more as the products of jealousy and envy
rather than the expression of a sincere, though wrong-headed, feeling.

My own opinions were confirmed by what I considered to be the infinitely
more dignified manner in which the really great Press replied to those
attacks or simply ignored them, which latter seemed to me the most
respectable way.

I diligently read what was generally called the World Press--NEUE FREIE
PRESSE, WIENER TAGEBLATT, etc.--and I was astonished by the abundance of
information they gave their readers and the impartial way in which they
presented particular problems. I appreciated their dignified tone; but
sometimes the flamboyancy of the style was unconvincing, and I did not
like it. But I attributed all this to the overpowering influence of the
world metropolis.

Since I considered Vienna at that time as such a world metropolis, I
thought this constituted sufficient grounds to excuse these shortcomings
of the Press. But I was frequently disgusted by the grovelling way in
which the Vienna Press played lackey to the Court. Scarcely a move took
place at the Hofburg which was not presented in glorified colours to the
readers. It was a foolish practice, which, especially when it had to do
with 'The Wisest Monarch of all Times', reminded one almost of the dance
which the mountain cock performs at pairing time to woo his mate. It was
all empty nonsense. And I thought that such a policy was a stain on the
ideal of liberal democracy. I thought that this way of currying favour
at the Court was unworthy of the people. And that was the first blot
that fell on my appreciation of the great Vienna Press.

While in Vienna I continued to follow with a vivid interest all the
events that were taking place in Germany, whether connected with
political or cultural question. I had a feeling of pride and admiration
when I compared the rise of the young German Empire with the decline of
the Austrian State. But, although the foreign policy of that Empire was
a source of real pleasure on the whole, the internal political
happenings were not always so satisfactory. I did not approve of the
campaign which at that time was being carried on against William II. I
looked upon him not only as the German Emperor but, above all, as the
creator of the German Navy. The fact that the Emperor was prohibited
from speaking in the Reichstag made me very angry, because the
prohibition came from a side which in my eyes had no authority to make
it. For at a single sitting those same parliamentary ganders did more
cackling together than the whole dynasty of Emperors, comprising even
the weakest, had done in the course of centuries.

It annoyed me to have to acknowledge that in a nation where any
half-witted fellow could claim for himself the right to criticize and
might even be let loose on the people as a 'Legislator' in the
Reichstag, the bearer of the Imperial Crown could be the subject of a
'reprimand' on the part of the most miserable assembly of drivellers
that had ever existed.

I was even more disgusted at the way in which this same Vienna Press
salaamed obsequiously before the meanest steed belonging to the Habsburg
royal equipage and went off into wild ecstacies of delight if the nag
wagged its tail in response. And at the same time these newspapers took
up an attitude of anxiety in matters that concerned the German Emperor,
trying to cloak their enmity by the serious air they gave themselves.
But in my eyes that enmity appeared to be only poorly cloaked. Naturally
they protested that they had no intention of mixing in Germany's
internal affairs--God forbid! They pretended that by touching a delicate
spot in such a friendly way they were fulfilling a duty that devolved
upon them by reason of the mutual alliance between the two countries and
at the same time discharging their obligations of journalistic
truthfulness. Having thus excused themselves about tenderly touching a
sore spot, they bored with the finger ruthlessly into the wound.

That sort of thing made my blood boil. And now I began to be more and
more on my guard when reading the great Vienna Press.

I had to acknowledge, however, that on such subjects one of the
anti-Semitic papers--the DEUTSCHE VOLKSBLATT--acted more decently.

What got still more on my nerves was the repugnant manner in which the
big newspapers cultivated admiration for France. One really had to feel
ashamed of being a German when confronted by those mellifluous hymns of
praise for 'the great culture-nation'. This wretched Gallomania more
often than once made me throw away one of those 'world newspapers'. I
now often turned to the VOLKSBLATT, which was much smaller in size but
which treated such subjects more decently. I was not in accord with its
sharp anti-Semitic tone; but again and again I found that its arguments
gave me grounds for serious thought.

Anyhow, it was as a result of such reading that I came to know the man
and the movement which then determined the fate of Vienna. These were
Dr. Karl Lueger and the Christian Socialist Movement. At the time I came
to Vienna I felt opposed to both. I looked on the man and the movement
as 'reactionary'.

But even an elementary sense of justice enforced me to change my opinion
when I had the opportunity of knowing the man and his work, and slowly
that opinion grew into outspoken admiration when I had better grounds
for forming a judgment. To-day, as well as then, I hold Dr. Karl Lueger
as the most eminent type of German Burgermeister. How many prejudices
were thrown over through such a change in my attitude towards the
Christian-Socialist Movement!

My ideas about anti-Semitism changed also in the course of time, but
that was the change which I found most difficult. It cost me a greater
internal conflict with myself, and it was only after a struggle between
reason and sentiment that victory began to be decided in favour of the
former. Two years later sentiment rallied to the side of reasons and
became a faithful guardian and counsellor.

At the time of this bitter struggle, between calm reason and the
sentiments in which I had been brought up, the lessons that I learned on
the streets of Vienna rendered me invaluable assistance. A time came
when I no longer passed blindly along the street of the mighty city, as
I had done in the early days, but now with my eyes open not only to
study the buildings but also the human beings.

Once, when passing through the inner City, I suddenly encountered a
phenomenon in a long caftan and wearing black side-locks. My first
thought was: Is this a Jew? They certainly did not have this appearance
in Linz. I watched the man stealthily and cautiously; but the longer I
gazed at the strange countenance and examined it feature by feature, the
more the question shaped itself in my brain: Is this a German?

As was always my habit with such experiences, I turned to books for help
in removing my doubts. For the first time in my life I bought myself
some anti-Semitic pamphlets for a few pence. But unfortunately they all
began with the assumption that in principle the reader had at least a
certain degree of information on the Jewish question or was even
familiar with it. Moreover, the tone of most of these pamphlets was such
that I became doubtful again, because the statements made were partly
superficial and the proofs extraordinarily unscientific. For weeks, and
indeed for months, I returned to my old way of thinking. The subject
appeared so enormous and the accusations were so far-reaching that I was
afraid of dealing with it unjustly and so I became again anxious and
uncertain.

Naturally I could no longer doubt that here there was not a question of
Germans who happened to be of a different religion but rather that there
was question of an entirely different people. For as soon as I began to
investigate the matter and observe the Jews, then Vienna appeared to me
in a different light. Wherever I now went I saw Jews, and the more I saw
of them the more strikingly and clearly they stood out as a different
people from the other citizens. Especially the Inner City and the
district northwards from the Danube Canal swarmed with a people who,
even in outer appearance, bore no similarity to the Germans.

But any indecision which I may still have felt about that point was
finally removed by the activities of a certain section of the Jews
themselves. A great movement, called Zionism, arose among them. Its aim
was to assert the national character of Judaism, and the movement was
strongly represented in Vienna.

To outward appearances it seemed as if only one group of Jews championed
this movement, while the great majority disapproved of it, or even
repudiated it. But an investigation of the situation showed that those
outward appearances were purposely misleading. These outward appearances
emerged from a mist of theories which had been produced for reasons of
expediency, if not for purposes of downright deception. For that part of
Jewry which was styled Liberal did not disown the Zionists as if they
were not members of their race but rather as brother Jews who publicly
professed their faith in an unpractical way, so as to create a danger
for Jewry itself.

Thus there was no real rift in their internal solidarity.

This fictitious conflict between the Zionists and the Liberal Jews soon
disgusted me; for it was false through and through and in direct
contradiction to the moral dignity and immaculate character on which
that race had always prided itself.

Cleanliness, whether moral or of another kind, had its own peculiar
meaning for these people. That they were water-shy was obvious on
looking at them and, unfortunately, very often also when not looking at
them at all. The odour of those people in caftans often used to make me
feel ill. Beyond that there were the unkempt clothes and the ignoble
exterior.

All these details were certainly not attractive; but the revolting
feature was that beneath their unclean exterior one suddenly perceived
the moral mildew of the chosen race.

What soon gave me cause for very serious consideration were the
activities of the Jews in certain branches of life, into the mystery of
which I penetrated little by little. Was there any shady undertaking,
any form of foulness, especially in cultural life, in which at least one
Jew did not participate? On putting the probing knife carefully to that
kind of abscess one immediately discovered, like a maggot in a
putrescent body, a little Jew who was often blinded by the sudden light.

In my eyes the charge against Judaism became a grave one the moment I
discovered the Jewish activities in the Press, in art, in literature and
the theatre. All unctuous protests were now more or less futile. One
needed only to look at the posters announcing the hideous productions of
the cinema and theatre, and study the names of the authors who were
highly lauded there in order to become permanently adamant on Jewish
questions. Here was a pestilence, a moral pestilence, with which the
public was being infected. It was worse than the Black Plague of long
ago. And in what mighty doses this poison was manufactured and
distributed. Naturally, the lower the moral and intellectual level of
such an author of artistic products the more inexhaustible his
fecundity. Sometimes it went so far that one of these fellows, acting
like a sewage pump, would shoot his filth directly in the face of other
members of the human race. In this connection we must remember there is
no limit to the number of such people. One ought to realize that for
one, Goethe, Nature may bring into existence ten thousand such
despoilers who act as the worst kind of germ-carriers in poisoning human
souls. It was a terrible thought, and yet it could not be avoided, that
the greater number of the Jews seemed specially destined by Nature to
play this shameful part.

And is it for this reason that they can be called the chosen people?

I began then to investigate carefully the names of all the fabricators
of these unclean products in public cultural life. The result of that
inquiry was still more disfavourable to the attitude which I had
hitherto held in regard to the Jews. Though my feelings might rebel a
thousand time, reason now had to draw its own conclusions.

The fact that nine-tenths of all the smutty literature, artistic tripe
and theatrical banalities, had to be charged to the account of people
who formed scarcely one per cent. of the nation--that fact could not be
gainsaid. It was there, and had to be admitted. Then I began to examine
my favourite 'World Press', with that fact before my mind.

The deeper my soundings went the lesser grew my respect for that Press
which I formerly admired. Its style became still more repellent and I
was forced to reject its ideas as entirely shallow and superficial. To
claim that in the presentation of facts and views its attitude was
impartial seemed to me to contain more falsehood than truth. The writers
were--Jews.

Thousands of details that I had scarcely noticed before seemed to me now
to deserve attention. I began to grasp and understand things which I had
formerly looked at in a different light.

I saw the Liberal policy of that Press in another light. Its dignified
tone in replying to the attacks of its adversaries and its dead silence
in other cases now became clear to me as part of a cunning and
despicable way of deceiving the readers. Its brilliant theatrical
criticisms always praised the Jewish authors and its adverse, criticism
was reserved exclusively for the Germans.

The light pin-pricks against William II showed the persistency of its
policy, just as did its systematic commendation of French culture and
civilization. The subject matter of the feuilletons was trivial and
often pornographic. The language of this Press as a whole had the accent
of a foreign people. The general tone was openly derogatory to the
Germans and this must have been definitely intentional.

What were the interests that urged the Vienna Press to adopt such a
policy? Or did they do so merely by chance? In attempting to find an
answer to those questions I gradually became more and more dubious.

Then something happened which helped me to come to an early decision. I
began to see through the meaning of a whole series of events that were
taking place in other branches of Viennese life. All these were inspired
by a general concept of manners and morals which was openly put into
practice by a large section of the Jews and could be established as
attributable to them. Here, again, the life which I observed on the
streets taught me what evil really is.

The part which the Jews played in the social phenomenon of prostitution,
and more especially in the white slave traffic, could be studied here
better than in any other West-European city, with the possible exception
of certain ports in Southern France. Walking by night along the streets
of the Leopoldstadt, almost at every turn whether one wished it or not,
one witnessed certain happenings of whose existence the Germans knew
nothing until the War made it possible and indeed inevitable for the
soldiers to see such things on the Eastern front.

A cold shiver ran down my spine when I first ascertained that it was the
same kind of cold-blooded, thick-skinned and shameless Jew who showed
his consummate skill in conducting that revolting exploitation of the
dregs of the big city. Then I became fired with wrath.

I had now no more hesitation about bringing the Jewish problem to light
in all its details. No. Henceforth I was determined to do so. But as I
learned to track down the Jew in all the different spheres of cultural
and artistic life, and in the various manifestations of this life
everywhere, I suddenly came upon him in a position where I had least
expected to find him. I now realized that the Jews were the leaders of
Social Democracy. In face of that revelation the scales fell from my
eyes. My long inner struggle was at an end.

In my relations with my fellow workmen I was often astonished to find
how easily and often they changed their opinions on the same questions,
sometimes within a few days and sometimes even within the course of a
few hours. I found it difficult to understand how men who always had
reasonable ideas when they spoke as individuals with one another
suddenly lost this reasonableness the moment they acted in the mass.
That phenomenon often tempted one almost to despair. I used to dispute
with them for hours and when I succeeded in bringing them to what I
considered a reasonable way of thinking I rejoiced at my success. But
next day I would find that it had been all in vain. It was saddening to
think I had to begin it all over again. Like a pendulum in its eternal
sway, they would fall back into their absurd opinions.

I was able to understand their position fully. They were dissatisfied
with their lot and cursed the fate which had hit them so hard. They
hated their employers, whom they looked upon as the heartless
administrators of their cruel destiny. Often they used abusive language
against the public officials, whom they accused of having no sympathy
with the situation of the working people. They made public protests
against the cost of living and paraded through the streets in defence of
their claims. At least all this could be explained on reasonable
grounds. But what was impossible to understand was the boundless hatred
they expressed against their own fellow citizens, how they disparaged
their own nation, mocked at its greatness, reviled its history and
dragged the names of its most illustrious men in the gutter.

This hostility towards their own kith and kin, their own native land and
home was as irrational as it was incomprehensible. It was against
Nature.

One could cure that malady temporarily, but only for some days or at
least some weeks. But on meeting those whom one believed to have been
converted one found that they had become as they were before. That
malady against Nature held them once again in its clutches.

I gradually discovered that the Social Democratic Press was
predominantly controlled by Jews. But I did not attach special
importance to this circumstance, for the same state of affairs existed
also in other newspapers. But there was one striking fact in this
connection. It was that there was not a single newspaper with which Jews
were connected that could be spoken of as National, in the meaning that
my education and convictions attached to that word.

Making an effort to overcome my natural reluctance, I tried to read
articles of this nature published in the Marxist Press; but in doing so
my aversion increased all the more. And then I set about learning
something of the people who wrote and published this mischievous stuff.
From the publisher downwards, all of them were Jews. I recalled to mind
the names of the public leaders of Marxism, and then I realized that
most of them belonged to the Chosen Race--the Social Democratic
representatives in the Imperial Cabinet as well as the secretaries of
the Trades Unions and the street agitators. Everywhere the same sinister
picture presented itself. I shall never forget the row of
names--Austerlitz, David, Adler, Ellenbogen, and others. One fact became
quite evident to me. It was that this alien race held in its hands the
leadership of that Social Democratic Party with whose minor
representatives I had been disputing for months past. I was happy at
last to know for certain that the Jew is not a German.

Thus I finally discovered who were the evil spirits leading our people
astray. The sojourn in Vienna for one year had proved long enough to
convince me that no worker is so rooted in his preconceived notions that
he will not surrender them in face of better and clearer arguments and
explanations. Gradually I became an expert in the doctrine of the
Marxists and used this knowledge as an instrument to drive home my own
firm convictions. I was successful in nearly every case. The great
masses can be rescued, but a lot of time and a large share of human
patience must be devoted to such work.

But a Jew can never be rescued from his fixed notions.

It was then simple enough to attempt to show them the absurdity of their
teaching. Within my small circle I talked to them until my throat ached
and my voice grew hoarse. I believed that I could finally convince them
of the danger inherent in the Marxist follies. But I only achieved the
contrary result. It seemed to me that immediately the disastrous effects
of the Marxist Theory and its application in practice became evident,
the stronger became their obstinacy.

The more I debated with them the more familiar I became with their
argumentative tactics. At the outset they counted upon the stupidity of
their opponents, but when they got so entangled that they could not find
a way out they played the trick of acting as innocent simpletons. Should
they fail, in spite of their tricks of logic, they acted as if they
could not understand the counter arguments and bolted away to another
field of discussion. They would lay down truisms and platitudes; and, if
you accepted these, then they were applied to other problems and matters
of an essentially different nature from the original theme. If you faced
them with this point they would escape again, and you could not bring
them to make any precise statement. Whenever one tried to get a firm
grip on any of these apostles one's hand grasped only jelly and slime
which slipped through the fingers and combined again into a solid mass a
moment afterwards. If your adversary felt forced to give in to your
argument, on account of the observers present, and if you then thought
that at last you had gained ground, a surprise was in store for you on
the following day. The Jew would be utterly oblivious to what had
happened the day before, and he would start once again by repeating his
former absurdities, as if nothing had happened. Should you become
indignant and remind him of yesterday's defeat, he pretended
astonishment and could not remember anything, except that on the
previous day he had proved that his statements were correct. Sometimes I
was dumbfounded. I do not know what amazed me the more--the abundance of
their verbiage or the artful way in which they dressed up their
falsehoods. I gradually came to hate them.

Yet all this had its good side; because the more I came to know the
individual leaders, or at least the propagandists, of Social Democracy,
my love for my own people increased correspondingly. Considering the
Satanic skill which these evil counsellors displayed, how could their
unfortunate victims be blamed? Indeed, I found it extremely difficult
myself to be a match for the dialectical perfidy of that race. How
futile it was to try to win over such people with argument, seeing that
their very mouths distorted the truth, disowning the very words they had
just used and adopting them again a few moments afterwards to serve
their own ends in the argument! No. The more I came to know the Jew, the
easier it was to excuse the workers.

In my opinion the most culpable were not to be found among the workers
but rather among those who did not think it worth while to take the
trouble to sympathize with their own kinsfolk and give to the
hard-working son of the national family what was his by the iron logic
of justice, while at the same time placing his seducer and corrupter
against the wall.

Urged by my own daily experiences, I now began to investigate more
thoroughly the sources of the Marxist teaching itself. Its effects were
well known to me in detail. As a result of careful observation, its
daily progress had become obvious to me. And one needed only a little
imagination in order to be able to forecast the consequences which must
result from it. The only question now was: Did the founders foresee the
effects of their work in the form which those effects have shown
themselves to-day, or were the founders themselves the victims of an
error? To my mind both alternatives were possible.

If the second question must be answered in the affirmative, then it was
the duty of every thinking person to oppose this sinister movement with
a view to preventing it from producing its worst results. But if the
first question must be answered in the affirmative, then it must be
admitted that the original authors of this evil which has infected the
nations were devils incarnate. For only in the brain of a monster, and
not that of a man, could the plan of this organization take shape whose
workings must finally bring about the collapse of human civilization and
turn this world into a desert waste.

Such being the case the only alternative left was to fight, and in that
fight to employ all the weapons which the human spirit and intellect and
will could furnish leaving it to Fate to decide in whose favour the
balance should fall.

And so I began to gather information about the authors of this teaching,
with a view to studying the principles of the movement. The fact that I
attained my object sooner than I could have anticipated was due to the
deeper insight into the Jewish question which I then gained, my
knowledge of this question being hitherto rather superficial. This newly
acquired knowledge alone enabled me to make a practical comparison
between the real content and the theoretical pretentiousness of the
teaching laid down by the apostolic founders of Social Democracy;
because I now understood the language of the Jew. I realized that the
Jew uses language for the purpose of dissimulating his thought or at
least veiling it, so that his real aim cannot be discovered by what he
says but rather by reading between the lines. This knowledge was the
occasion of the greatest inner revolution that I had yet experienced.
From being a soft-hearted cosmopolitan I became an out-and-out
anti-Semite.

Only on one further occasion, and that for the last time, did I give way
to oppressing thoughts which caused me some moments of profound anxiety.

As I critically reviewed the activities of the Jewish people throughout
long periods of history I became anxious and asked myself whether for
some inscrutable reasons beyond the comprehension of poor mortals such
as ourselves, Destiny may not have irrevocably decreed that the final
victory must go to this small nation? May it not be that this people
which has lived only for the earth has been promised the earth as a
recompense? is our right to struggle for our own self-preservation based
on reality, or is it a merely subjective thing? Fate answered the
question for me inasmuch as it led me to make a detached and exhaustive
inquiry into the Marxist teaching and the activities of the Jewish
people in connection with it.

The Jewish doctrine of Marxism repudiates the aristocratic principle of
Nature and substitutes for it the eternal privilege of force and energy,
numerical mass and its dead weight. Thus it denies the individual worth
of the human personality, impugns the teaching that nationhood and race
have a primary significance, and by doing this it takes away the very
foundations of human existence and human civilization. If the Marxist
teaching were to be accepted as the foundation of the life of the
universe, it would lead to the disappearance of all order that is
conceivable to the human mind. And thus the adoption of such a law would
provoke chaos in the structure of the greatest organism that we know,
with the result that the inhabitants of this earthly planet would
finally disappear.

Should the Jew, with the aid of his Marxist creed, triumph over the
people of this world, his Crown will be the funeral wreath of mankind,
and this planet will once again follow its orbit through ether, without
any human life on its surface, as it did millions of years ago.

And so I believe to-day that my conduct is in accordance with the will
of the Almighty Creator. In standing guard against the Jew I am
defending the handiwork of the Lord.




CHAPTER III



POLITICAL REFLECTIONS ARISING OUT OF MY SOJOURN IN VIENNA


Generally speaking a man should not publicly take part in politics
before he has reached the age of thirty, though, of course, exceptions
must be made in the case of those who are naturally gifted with
extraordinary political abilities. That at least is my opinion to-day.
And the reason for it is that until he reaches his thirtieth year or
thereabouts a man's mental development will mostly consist in acquiring
and sifting such knowledge as is necessary for the groundwork of a
general platform from which he can examine the different political
problems that arise from day to day and be able to adopt a definite
attitude towards each. A man must first acquire a fund of general ideas
and fit them together so as to form an organic structure of personal
thought or outlook on life--a WELTANSCHAUUNG. Then he will have that
mental equipment without which he cannot form his own judgments on
particular questions of the day, and he will have acquired those
qualities that are necessary for consistency and steadfastness in the
formation of political opinions. Such a man is now qualified, at least
subjectively, to take his part in the political conduct of public
affairs.

If these pre-requisite conditions are not fulfilled, and if a man should
enter political life without this equipment, he will run a twofold risk.
In the first place, he may find during the course of events that the
stand which he originally took in regard to some essential question was
wrong. He will now have to abandon his former position or else stick to
it against his better knowledge and riper wisdom and after his reason
and convictions have already proved it untenable. If he adopt the former
line of action he will find himself in a difficult personal situation;
because in giving up a position hitherto maintained he will appear
inconsistent and will have no right to expect his followers to remain as
loyal to his leadership as they were before. And, as regards the
followers themselves, they may easily look upon their leader's change of
policy as showing a lack of judgment inherent in his character.
Moreover, the change must cause in them a certain feeling of
discomfiture VIS-À-VIS those whom the leader formerly opposed.

If he adopts the second alternative--which so very frequently happens
to-day--then public pronouncements of the leader have no longer his
personal persuasion to support them. And the more that is the case the
defence of his cause will be all the more hollow and superficial. He now
descends to the adoption of vulgar means in his defence. While he
himself no longer dreams seriously of standing by his political
protestations to the last--for no man will die in defence of something
in which he does not believe--he makes increasing demands on his
followers. Indeed, the greater be the measure of his own insincerity,
the more unfortunate and inconsiderate become his claims on his party
adherents. Finally, he throws aside the last vestiges of true leadership
and begins to play politics. This means that he becomes one of those
whose only consistency is their inconsistency, associated with
overbearing insolence and oftentimes an artful mendacity developed to a
shamelessly high degree.

Should such a person, to the misfortune of all decent people, succeed in
becoming a parliamentary deputy it will be clear from the outset that
for him the essence of political activity consists in a heroic struggle
to keep permanent hold on this milk-bottle as a source of livelihood for
himself and his family. The more his wife and children are dependent on
him, the more stubbornly will he fight to maintain for himself the
representation of his parliamentary constituency. For that reason any
other person who gives evidence of political capacity is his personal
enemy. In every new movement he will apprehend the possible beginning of
his own downfall. And everyone who is a better man than himself will
appear to him in the light of a menace.

I shall subsequently deal more fully with the problem to which this kind
of parliamentary vermin give rise.

When a man has reached his thirtieth year he has still a great deal to
learn. That is obvious. But henceforward what he learns will principally
be an amplification of his basic ideas; it will be fitted in with them
organically so as to fill up the framework of the fundamental
WELTANSCHAUUNG which he already possesses. What he learns anew will not
imply the abandonment of principles already held, but rather a deeper
knowledge of those principles. And thus his colleagues will never have
the discomforting feeling that they have been hitherto falsely led by
him. On the contrary, their confidence is increased when they perceive
that their leader's qualities are steadily developing along the lines of
an organic growth which results from the constant assimilation of new
ideas; so that the followers look upon this process as signifying an
enrichment of the doctrines in which they themselves believe, in their
eyes every such development is a new witness to the correctness of that
whole body of opinion which has hitherto been held.

A leader who has to abandon the platform founded on his general
principles, because he recognizes the foundation as false, can act with
honour only when he declares his readiness to accept the final
consequences of his erroneous views. In such a case he ought to refrain
from taking public part in any further political activity. Having once
gone astray on essential things he may possibly go astray a second time.
But, anyhow, he has no right whatsoever to expect or demand that his
fellow citizens should continue to give him their support.

How little such a line of conduct commends itself to our public leaders
nowadays is proved by the general corruption prevalent among the cabal
which at the present moment feels itself called to political leadership.
In the whole cabal there is scarcely one who is properly equipped for
this task.

Although in those days I used to give more time than most others to the
consideration of political question, yet I carefully refrained from
taking an open part in politics. Only to a small circle did I speak of
those things which agitated my mind or were the cause of constant
preoccupation for me. The habit of discussing matters within such a
restricted group had many advantages in itself. Rather than talk at
them, I learned to feel my way into the modes of thought and views of
those men around me. Oftentimes such ways of thinking and such views
were quite primitive. Thus I took every possible occasion to increase my
knowledge of men.

Nowhere among the German people was the opportunity for making such a
study so favourable as in Vienna.

In the old Danubian Monarchy political thought was wider in its range
and had a richer variety of interests than in the Germany of that
epoch--excepting certain parts of Prussia, Hamburg and the districts
bordering on the North Sea. When I speak of Austria here I mean that
part of the great Habsburg Empire which, by reason of its German
population, furnished not only the historic basis for the formation of
this State but whose population was for several centuries also the
exclusive source of cultural life in that political system whose
structure was so artificial. As time went on the stability of the
Austrian State and the guarantee of its continued existence depended
more and more on the maintenance of this germ-cell of that Habsburg
Empire.

The hereditary imperial provinces constituted the heart of the Empire.
And it was this heart that constantly sent the blood of life pulsating
through the whole political and cultural system. Corresponding to the
heart of the Empire, Vienna signified the brain and the will. At that
time Vienna presented an appearance which made one think of her as an
enthroned queen whose authoritative sway united the conglomeration of
heterogenous nationalities that lived under the Habsburg sceptre. The
radiant beauty of the capital city made one forget the sad symptoms of
senile decay which the State manifested as a whole.

Though the Empire was internally rickety because of the terrific
conflict going on between the various nationalities, the outside
world--and Germany in particular--saw only that lovely picture of the
city. The illusion was all the greater because at that time Vienna
seemed to have risen to its highest pitch of splendour. Under a Mayor,
who had the true stamp of administrative genius, the venerable
residential City of the Emperors of the old Empire seemed to have the
glory of its youth renewed. The last great German who sprang from the
ranks of the people that had colonized the East Mark was not a
'statesman', in the official sense. This Dr. Luegar, however, in his
rôle as Mayor of 'the Imperial Capital and Residential City', had
achieved so much in almost all spheres of municipal activity, whether
economic or cultural, that the heart of the whole Empire throbbed with
renewed vigour. He thus proved himself a much greater statesman than the
so-called 'diplomats' of that period.

The fact that this political system of heterogeneous races called
AUSTRIA, finally broke down is no evidence whatsoever of political
incapacity on the part of the German element in the old East Mark. The
collapse was the inevitable result of an impossible situation. Ten
million people cannot permanently hold together a State of fifty
millions, composed of different and convicting nationalities, unless
certain definite pre-requisite conditions are at hand while there is
still time to avail of them.

The German-Austrian had very big ways of thinking. Accustomed to live in
a great Empire, he had a keen sense of the obligations incumbent on him
in such a situation. He was the only member of the Austrian State who
looked beyond the borders of the narrow lands belonging to the Crown and
took in all the frontiers of the Empire in the sweep of his mind. Indeed
when destiny severed him from the common Fatherland he tried to master
the tremendous task which was set before him as a consequence. This task
was to maintain for the German-Austrians that patrimony which, through
innumerable struggles, their ancestors had originally wrested from the
East. It must be remembered that the German-Austrians could not put
their undivided strength into this effort, because the hearts and minds
of the best among them were constantly turning back towards their
kinsfolk in the Motherland, so that only a fraction of their energy
remained to be employed at home.

The mental horizon of the German-Austrian was comparatively broad. His
commercial interests comprised almost every section of the heterogeneous
Empire. The conduct of almost all important undertakings was in his
hands. He provided the State, for the most part, with its leading
technical experts and civil servants. He was responsible for carrying on
the foreign trade of the country, as far as that sphere of activity was
not under Jewish control, The German-Austrian exclusively represented
the political cement that held the State together. His military duties
carried him far beyond the narrow frontiers of his homeland. Though the
recruit might join a regiment made up of the German element, the
regiment itself might be stationed in Herzegovina as well as in Vienna
or Galicia. The officers in the Habsburg armies were still Germans and
so was the predominating element in the higher branches of the civil
service. Art and science were in German hands. Apart from the new
artistic trash, which might easily have been produced by a negro tribe,
all genuine artistic inspiration came from the German section of the
population. In music, architecture, sculpture and painting, Vienna
abundantly supplied the entire Dual Monarchy. And the source never
seemed to show signs of a possible exhaustion. Finally, it was the
German element that determined the conduct of foreign policy, though a
small number of Hungarians were also active in that field.

All efforts, however, to save the unity of the State were doomed to end
in failure, because the essential pre-requisites were missing.

There was only one possible way to control and hold in check the
centrifugal forces of the different and differing nationalities. This
way was: to govern the Austrian State and organize it internally on the
principle of centralization. In no other way imaginable could the
existence of that State be assured.

Now and again there were lucid intervals in the higher ruling quarters
when this truth was recognized. But it was soon forgotten again, or else
deliberately ignored, because of the difficulties to be overcome in
putting it into practice. Every project which aimed at giving the Empire
a more federal shape was bound to be ineffective because there was no
strong central authority which could exercise sufficient power within
the State to hold the federal elements together. It must be remembered
in this connection that conditions in Austria were quite different from
those which characterized the German State as founded by Bismarck.
Germany was faced with only one difficulty, which was that of
transforming the purely political traditions, because throughout the
whole of Bismarck's Germany there was a common cultural basis. The
German Empire contained only members of one and the same racial or
national stock, with the exception of a few minor foreign fragments.

Demographic conditions in Austria were quite the reverse. With the
exception of Hungary there was no political tradition, coming down from
a great past, in any of the various affiliated countries. If there had
been, time had either wiped out all traces of it, or at least, rendered
them obscure. Moreover, this was the epoch when the principle of
nationality began to be in ascendant; and that phenomenon awakened the
national instincts in the various countries affiliated under the
Habsburg sceptre. It was difficult to control the action of these newly
awakened national forces; because, adjacent to the frontiers of the Dual
Monarchy, new national States were springing up whose people were of the
same or kindred racial stock as the respective nationalities that
constituted the Habsburg Empire. These new States were able to exercise
a greater influence than the German element.

Even Vienna could not hold out for a lengthy period in this conflict.
When Budapest had developed into a metropolis a rival had grown up whose
mission was, not to help in holding together the various divergent parts
of the Empire, but rather to strengthen one part. Within a short time
Prague followed the example of Budapest; and later on came Lemberg,
Laibach and others. By raising these places which had formerly been
provincial towns to the rank of national cities, rallying centres were
provided for an independent cultural life. Through this the local
national instincts acquired a spiritual foundation and therewith gained
a more profound hold on the people. The time was bound to come when the
particularist interests of those various countries would become stronger
than their common imperial interests. Once that stage had been reached,
Austria's doom was sealed.

The course of this development was clearly perceptible since the death
of Joseph II. Its rapidity depended on a number of factors, some of
which had their source in the Monarchy itself; while others resulted
from the position which the Empire had taken in foreign politics.

It was impossible to make anything like a successful effort for the
permanent consolidation of the Austrian State unless a firm and
persistent policy of centralization were put into force. Before
everything else the principle should have been adopted that only one
common language could be used as the official language of the State.
Thus it would be possible to emphasize the formal unity of that imperial
commonwealth. And thus the administration would have in its hands a
technical instrument without which the State could not endure as a
political unity. In the same way the school and other forms of education
should have been used to inculcate a feeling of common citizenship. Such
an objective could not be reached within ten or twenty years. The effort
would have to be envisaged in terms of centuries; just as in all
problems of colonization, steady perseverance is a far more important
element than the output of energetic effort at the moment.

It goes without saying that in such circumstances the country must be
governed and administered by strictly adhering to the principle of
uniformity.

For me it was quite instructive to discover why this did not take place,
or rather why it was not done. Those who were guilty of the omission
must be held responsible for the break-up of the Habsburg Empire.

More than any other State, the existence of the old Austria depended on
a strong and capable Government. The Habsburg Empire lacked ethnical
uniformity, which constitutes the fundamental basis of a national State
and will preserve the existence of such a State even though the ruling
power should be grossly inefficient. When a State is composed of a
homogeneous population, the natural inertia of such a population will
hold the Stage together and maintain its existence through astonishingly
long periods of misgovernment and maladministration. It may often seem
as if the principle of life had died out in such a body-politic; but a
time comes when the apparent corpse rises up and displays before the
world an astonishing manifestation of its indestructible vitality.

But the situation is utterly different in a country where the population
is not homogeneous, where there is no bond of common blood but only that
of one ruling hand. Should the ruling hand show signs of weakness in
such a State the result will not be to cause a kind of hibernation of
the State but rather to awaken the individualist instincts which are
slumbering in the ethnological groups. These instincts do not make
themselves felt as long as these groups are dominated by a strong
central will-to-govern. The danger which exists in these slumbering
separatist instincts can be rendered more or less innocuous only through
centuries of common education, common traditions and common interests.
The younger such States are, the more their existence will depend on the
ability and strength of the central government. If their foundation was
due only to the work of a strong personality or a leader who is a man of
genius, in many cases they will break up as soon as the founder
disappears; because, though great, he stood alone. But even after
centuries of a common education and experiences these separatist
instincts I have spoken of are not always completely overcome. They may
be only dormant and may suddenly awaken when the central government
shows weakness and the force of a common education as well as the
prestige of a common tradition prove unable to withstand the vital
energies of separatist nationalities forging ahead towards the shaping
of their own individual existence.

The failure to see the truth of all this constituted what may be called
the tragic crime of the Habsburg rulers.

Only before the eyes of one Habsburg ruler, and that for the last time,
did the hand of Destiny hold aloft the torch that threw light on the
future of his country. But the torch was then extinguished for ever.

Joseph II, Roman Emperor of the German nation, was filled with a growing
anxiety when he realized the fact that his House was removed to an
outlying frontier of his Empire and that the time would soon be at hand
when it would be overturned and engulfed in the whirlpool caused by that
Babylon of nationalities, unless something was done at the eleventh hour
to overcome the dire consequences resulting from the negligence of his
ancestors. With superhuman energy this 'Friend of Mankind' made every
possible effort to counteract the effects of the carelessness and
thoughtlessness of his predecessors. Within one decade he strove to
repair the damage that had been done through centuries. If Destiny had
only granted him forty years for his labours, and if only two
generations had carried on the work which he had started, the miracle
might have been performed. But when he died, broken in body and spirit
after ten years of rulership, his work sank with him into the grave and
rests with him there in the Capucin Crypt, sleeping its eternal sleep,
having never again showed signs of awakening.

His successors had neither the ability nor the will-power necessary for
the task they had to face.

When the first signs of a new revolutionary epoch appeared in Europe
they gradually scattered the fire throughout Austria. And when the fire
began to glow steadily it was fed and fanned not by the social or
political conditions but by forces that had their origin in the
nationalist yearnings of the various ethnic groups.

The European revolutionary movement of 1848 primarily took the form of a
class conflict in almost every other country, but in Austria it took the
form of a new racial struggle. In so far as the German-Austrians there
forgot the origins of the movement, or perhaps had failed to recognize
them at the start and consequently took part in the revolutionary
uprising, they sealed their own fate. For they thus helped to awaken the
spirit of Western Democracy which, within a short while, shattered the
foundations of their own existence.

The setting up of a representative parliamentary body, without insisting
on the preliminary that only one language should be used in all public
intercourse under the State, was the first great blow to the
predominance of the German element in the Dual Monarchy. From that
moment the State was also doomed to collapse sooner or later. All that
followed was nothing but the historical liquidation of an Empire.

To watch that process of progressive disintegration was a tragic and at
the same time an instructive experience. The execution of history's
decree was carried out in thousands of details. The fact that great
numbers of people went about blindfolded amid the manifest signs of
dissolution only proves that the gods had decreed the destruction of
Austria.

I do not wish to dwell on details because that would lie outside the
scope of this book. I want to treat in detail only those events which
are typical among the causes that lead to the decline of nations and
States and which are therefore of importance to our present age.
Moreover, the study of these events helped to furnish the basis of my
own political outlook.

Among the institutions which most clearly manifested unmistakable signs
of decay, even to the weak-sighted Philistine, was that which, of all
the institutions of State, ought to have been the most firmly founded--I
mean the Parliament, or the Reichsrat (Imperial Council) as it was
called in Austria.

The pattern for this corporate body was obviously that which existed in
England, the land of classic democracy. The whole of that excellent
organization was bodily transferred to Austria with as little alteration
as possible.

As the Austrian counterpart to the British two-chamber system a Chamber
of Deputies and a House of Lords (HERRENHAUS) were established in
Vienna. The Houses themselves, considered as buildings were somewhat
different. When Barry built his palaces, or, as we say the Houses of
Parliament, on the shore of the Thames, he could look to the history of
the British Empire for the inspiration of his work. In that history he
found sufficient material to fill and decorate the 1,200 niches,
brackets, and pillars of his magnificent edifice. His statues and
paintings made the House of Lords and the House of Commons temples
dedicated to the glory of the nation.

There it was that Vienna encountered the first difficulty. When Hansen,
the Danish architect, had completed the last gable of the marble palace
in which the new body of popular representatives was to be housed he had
to turn to the ancient classical world for subjects to fill out his
decorative plan. This theatrical shrine of 'Western Democracy' was
adorned with the statues and portraits of Greek and Roman statesmen and
philosophers. As if it were meant for a symbol of irony, the horses of
the quadriga that surmounts the two Houses are pulling apart from one
another towards all four quarters of the globe. There could be no better
symbol for the kind of activity going on within the walls of that same
building.

The 'nationalities' were opposed to any kind of glorification of
Austrian history in the decoration of this building, insisting that such
would constitute an offence to them and a provocation. Much the same
happened in Germany, where the Reich-stag, built by Wallot, was not
dedicated to the German people until the cannons were thundering in the
World War. And then it was dedicated by an inscription.

I was not yet twenty years of age when I first entered the Palace on the
Franzens-ring to watch and listen in the Chamber of Deputies. That first
experience aroused in me a profound feeling of repugnance.

I had always hated the Parliament, but not as an institution in itself.
Quite the contrary. As one who cherished ideals of political freedom I
could not even imagine any other form of government. In the light of my
attitude towards the House of Habsburg I should then have considered it
a crime against liberty and reason to think of any kind of dictatorship
as a possible form of government.

A certain admiration which I had for the British Parliament contributed
towards the formation of this opinion. I became imbued with that feeling
of admiration almost without my being conscious of the effect of it
through so much reading of newspapers while I was yet quite young. I
could not discard that admiration all in a moment. The dignified way in
which the British House of Commons fulfilled its function impressed me
greatly, thanks largely to the glowing terms in which the Austrian Press
reported these events. I used to ask myself whether there could be any
nobler form of government than self-government by the people.

But these considerations furnished the very motives of my hostility to
the Austrian Parliament. The form in which parliamentary government was
here represented seemed unworthy of its great prototype. The following
considerations also influenced my attitude:

The fate of the German element in the Austrian State depended on its
position in Parliament. Up to the time that universal suffrage by secret
ballot was introduced the German representatives had a majority in the
Parliament, though that majority was not a very substantial one. This
situation gave cause for anxiety because the Social-Democratic fraction
of the German element could not be relied upon when national questions
were at stake. In matters that were of critical concern for the German
element, the Social-Democrats always took up an anti-German stand
because they were afraid of losing their followers among the other
national groups. Already at that time--before the introduction of
universal suffrage--the Social-Democratic Party could no longer be
considered as a German Party. The introduction of universal suffrage put
an end even to the purely numerical predominance of the German element.
The way was now clear for the further 'de-Germanization' of the Austrian
State.

The national instinct of self-preservation made it impossible for me to
welcome a representative system in which the German element was not
really represented as such, but always betrayed by the Social-Democratic
fraction. Yet all these, and many others, were defects which could not
be attributed to the parliamentary system as such, but rather to the
Austrian State in particular. I still believed that if the German
majority could be restored in the representative body there would be no
occasion to oppose such a system as long as the old Austrian State
continued to exist.

Such was my general attitude at the time when I first entered those
sacred and contentious halls. For me they were sacred only because of
the radiant beauty of that majestic edifice. A Greek wonder on German
soil.

But I soon became enraged by the hideous spectacle that met my eyes.
Several hundred representatives were there to discuss a problem of great
economical importance and each representative had the right to have his
say.

That experience of a day was enough to supply me with food for thought
during several weeks afterwards.

The intellectual level of the debate was quite low. Some times the
debaters did not make themselves intelligible at all. Several of those
present did not speak German but only their Slav vernaculars or
dialects. Thus I had the opportunity of hearing with my own ears what I
had been hitherto acquainted with only through reading the newspapers. A
turbulent mass of people, all gesticulating and bawling against one
another, with a pathetic old man shaking his bell and making frantic
efforts to call the House to a sense of its dignity by friendly appeals,
exhortations, and grave warnings.

I could not refrain from laughing.

Several weeks later I paid a second visit. This time the House presented
an entirely different picture, so much so that one could hardly
recognize it as the same place. The hall was practically empty. They
were sleeping in the other rooms below. Only a few deputies were in
their places, yawning in each other's faces. One was speechifying. A
deputy speaker was in the chair. When he looked round it was quite plain
that he felt bored.

Then I began to reflect seriously on the whole thing. I went to the
Parliament whenever I had any time to spare and watched the spectacle
silently but attentively. I listened to the debates, as far as they
could be understood, and I studied the more or less intelligent features
of those 'elect' representatives of the various nationalities which
composed that motley State. Gradually I formed my own ideas about what I
saw.

A year of such quiet observation was sufficient to transform or
completely destroy my former convictions as to the character of this
parliamentary institution. I no longer opposed merely the perverted form
which the principle of parliamentary representation had assumed in
Austria. No. It had become impossible for me to accept the system in
itself. Up to that time I had believed that the disastrous deficiencies
of the Austrian Parliament were due to the lack of a German majority,
but now I recognized that the institution itself was wrong in its very
essence and form.

A number of problems presented themselves before my mind. I studied more
closely the democratic principle of 'decision by the majority vote', and
I scrutinized no less carefully the intellectual and moral worth of the
gentlemen who, as the chosen representatives of the nation, were
entrusted with the task of making this institution function.

Thus it happened that at one and the same time I came to know the
institution itself and those of whom it was composed. And it was thus
that, within the course of a few years, I came to form a clear and vivid
picture of the average type of that most lightly worshipped phenomenon
of our time--the parliamentary deputy. The picture of him which I then
formed became deeply engraved on my mind and I have never altered it
since, at least as far as essentials go.

Once again these object-lessons taken from real life saved me from
getting firmly entangled by a theory which at first sight seems so
alluring to many people, though that theory itself is a symptom of human
decadence.

Democracy, as practised in Western Europe to-day, is the fore-runner of
Marxism. In fact, the latter would not be conceivable without the
former. Democracy is the breeding-ground in which the bacilli of the
Marxist world pest can grow and spread. By the introduction of
parliamentarianism, democracy produced an abortion of filth and fire
(Note 6), the creative fire of which, however, seems to have died out.

[Note 6. SPOTTGEBURT VON DRECK UND FEUER. This is the epithet that Faust
hurls at Mephistopheles as the latter intrudes on the conversation
between Faust and Martha in the garden:

Mephistopheles: Thou, full of sensual, super-sensual desire,
                A girl by the nose is leading thee.
Faust: Abortion, thou of filth and fire.]

I am more than grateful to Fate that this problem came to my notice when
I was still in Vienna; for if I had been in Germany at that time I might
easily have found only a superficial solution. If I had been in Berlin
when I first discovered what an illogical thing this institution is
which we call Parliament, I might easily have gone to the other extreme
and believed--as many people believed, and apparently not without good
reason--that the salvation of the people and the Empire could be secured
only by restrengthening the principle of imperial authority. Those who
had this belief did not discern the tendencies of their time and were
blind to the aspirations of the people.

In Austria one could not be so easily misled. There it was impossible to
fall from one error into another. If the Parliament were worthless, the
Habsburgs were worse; or at least not in the slightest degree better.
The problem was not solved by rejecting the parliamentary system.
Immediately the question arose: What then? To repudiate and abolish the
Vienna Parliament would have resulted in leaving all power in the hands
of the Habsburgs. For me, especially, that idea was impossible.

Since this problem was specially difficult in regard to Austria, I was
forced while still quite young to go into the essentials of the whole
question more thoroughly than I otherwise should have done.

The aspect of the situation that first made the most striking impression
on me and gave me grounds for serious reflection was the manifest lack
of any individual responsibility in the representative body.

The parliament passes some acts or decree which may have the most
devastating consequences, yet nobody bears the responsibility for it.
Nobody can be called to account. For surely one cannot say that a
Cabinet discharges its responsibility when it retires after having
brought about a catastrophe. Or can we say that the responsibility is
fully discharged when a new coalition is formed or parliament dissolved?
Can the principle of responsibility mean anything else than the
responsibility of a definite person?

Is it at all possible actually to call to account the leaders of a
parliamentary government for any kind of action which originated in the
wishes of the whole multitude of deputies and was carried out under
their orders or sanction? Instead of developing constructive ideas and
plans, does the business of a statesman consist in the art of making a
whole pack of blockheads understand his projects? Is it his business to
entreat and coach them so that they will grant him their generous
consent?

Is it an indispensable quality in a statesman that he should possess a
gift of persuasion commensurate with the statesman's ability to conceive
great political measures and carry them through into practice?

Does it really prove that a statesman is incompetent if he should fail
to win over a majority of votes to support his policy in an assembly
which has been called together as the chance result of an electoral
system that is not always honestly administered.

Has there ever been a case where such an assembly has worthily appraised
a great political concept before that concept was put into practice and
its greatness openly demonstrated through its success?

In this world is not the creative act of the genius always a protest
against the inertia of the mass?

What shall the statesman do if he does not succeed in coaxing the
parliamentary multitude to give its consent to his policy? Shall he
purchase that consent for some sort of consideration?

Or, when confronted with the obstinate stupidity of his fellow citizens,
should he then refrain from pushing forward the measures which he deems
to be of vital necessity to the life of the nation? Should he retire or
remain in power?

In such circumstances does not a man of character find himself face to
face with an insoluble contradiction between his own political insight
on the one hand and, on the other, his moral integrity, or, better
still, his sense of honesty?

Where can we draw the line between public duty and personal honour?

Must not every genuine leader renounce the idea of degrading himself to
the level of a political jobber?

And, on the other hand, does not every jobber feel the itch to 'play
politics', seeing that the final responsibility will never rest with him
personally but with an anonymous mass which can never be called to
account for their deeds?

Must not our parliamentary principle of government by numerical majority
necessarily lead to the destruction of the principle of leadership?

Does anybody honestly believe that human progress originates in the
composite brain of the majority and not in the brain of the individual
personality?

Or may it be presumed that for the future human civilization will be
able to dispense with this as a condition of its existence?

But may it not be that, to-day, more than ever before, the creative
brain of the individual is indispensable?

The parliamentary principle of vesting legislative power in the decision
of the majority rejects the authority of the individual and puts a
numerical quota of anonymous heads in its place. In doing so it
contradicts the aristrocratic principle, which is a fundamental law of
nature; but, of course, we must remember that in this decadent era of
ours the aristrocratic principle need not be thought of as incorporated
in the upper ten thousand.

The devastating influence of this parliamentary institution might not
easily be recognized by those who read the Jewish Press, unless the
reader has learned how to think independently and examine the facts for
himself. This institution is primarily responsible for the crowded
inrush of mediocre people into the field of politics. Confronted with
such a phenomenon, a man who is endowed with real qualities of
leadership will be tempted to refrain from taking part in political
life; because under these circumstances the situation does not call for
a man who has a capacity for constructive statesmanship but rather for a
man who is capable of bargaining for the favour of the majority. Thus
the situation will appeal to small minds and will attract them
accordingly.

The narrower the mental outlook and the more meagre the amount of
knowledge in a political jobber, the more accurate is his estimate of
his own political stock, and thus he will be all the more inclined to
appreciate a system which does not demand creative genius or even
high-class talent; but rather that crafty kind of sagacity which makes
an efficient town clerk. Indeed, he values this kind of small craftiness
more than the political genius of a Pericles. Such a mediocrity does not
even have to worry about responsibility for what he does. From the
beginning he knows that whatever be the results of his 'statesmanship'
his end is already prescribed by the stars; he will one day have to
clear out and make room for another who is of similar mental calibre.
For it is another sign of our decadent times that the number of eminent
statesmen grows according as the calibre of individual personality
dwindles. That calibre will become smaller and smaller the more the
individual politician has to depend upon parliamentary majorities. A man
of real political ability will refuse to be the beadle for a bevy of
footling cacklers; and they in their turn, being the representatives of
the majority--which means the dunder-headed multitude--hate nothing so
much as a superior brain.

For footling deputies it is always quite a consolation to be led by a
person whose intellectual stature is on a level with their own. Thus
each one may have the opportunity to shine in debate among such compeers
and, above all, each one feels that he may one day rise to the top. If
Peter be boss to-day, then why not Paul tomorrow?

This new invention of democracy is very closely connected with a
peculiar phenomenon which has recently spread to a pernicious extent,
namely the cowardice of a large section of our so-called political
leaders. Whenever important decisions have to be made they always find
themselves fortunate in being able to hide behind the backs of what they
call the majority.

In observing one of these political manipulators one notices how he
wheedles the majority in order to get their sanction for whatever action
he takes. He has to have accomplices in order to be able to shift
responsibility to other shoulders whenever it is opportune to do so.
That is the main reason why this kind of political activity is abhorrent
to men of character and courage, while at the same time it attracts
inferior types; for a person who is not willing to accept responsibility
for his own actions, but is always seeking to be covered by something,
must be classed among the knaves and the rascals. If a national leader
should come from that lower class of politicians the evil consequences
will soon manifest themselves. Nobody will then have the courage to take
a decisive step. They will submit to abuse and defamation rather than
pluck up courage to take a definite stand. And thus nobody is left who
is willing to risk his position and his career, if needs be, in support
of a determined line of policy.

One truth which must always be borne in mind is that the majority can
never replace the man. The majority represents not only ignorance but
also cowardice. And just as a hundred blockheads do not equal one man of
wisdom, so a hundred poltroons are incapable of any political line of
action that requires moral strength and fortitude.

The lighter the burden of responsibility on each individual leader, the
greater will be the number of those who, in spite of their sorry
mediocrity, will feel the call to place their immortal energies at the
disposal of the nation. They are so much on the tip-toe of expectation
that they find it hard to wait their turn. They stand in a long queue,
painfully and sadly counting the number of those ahead of them and
calculating the hours until they may eventually come forward. They watch
every change that takes place in the personnel of the office towards
which their hopes are directed, and they are grateful for every scandal
which removes one of the aspirants waiting ahead of them in the queue.
If somebody sticks too long to his office stool they consider this as
almost a breach of a sacred understanding based on their mutual
solidarity. They grow furious and give no peace until that inconsiderate
person is finally driven out and forced to hand over his cosy berth for
public disposal. After that he will have little chance of getting
another opportunity. Usually those placemen who have been forced to give
up their posts push themselves again into the waiting queue unless they
are hounded away by the protestations of the other aspirants.

The result of all this is that, in such a State, the succession of
sudden changes in public positions and public offices has a very
disquieting effect in general, which may easily lead to disaster when an
adverse crisis arises. It is not only the ignorant and the incompetent
person who may fall victim to those parliamentary conditions, for the
genuine leader may be affected just as much as the others, if not more
so, whenever Fate has chanced to place a capable man in the position of
leader. Let the superior quality of such a leader be once recognized and
the result will be that a joint front will be organized against him,
particularly if that leader, though not coming from their ranks, should
fall into the habit of intermingling with these illustrious nincompoops
on their own level. They want to have only their own company and will
quickly take a hostile attitude towards any man who might show himself
obviously above and beyond them when he mingles in their ranks. Their
instinct, which is so blind in other directions, is very sharp in this
particular.

The inevitable result is that the intellectual level of the ruling class
sinks steadily. One can easily forecast how much the nation and State
are bound to suffer from such a condition of affairs, provided one does
not belong to that same class of 'leaders'.

The parliamentary régime in the old Austria was the very archetype of
the institution as I have described it.

Though the Austrian Prime Minister was appointed by the King-Emperor,
this act of appointment merely gave practical effect to the will of the
parliament. The huckstering and bargaining that went on in regard to
every ministerial position showed all the typical marks of Western
Democracy. The results that followed were in keeping with the principles
applied. The intervals between the replacement of one person by another
gradually became shorter, finally ending up in a wild relay chase. With
each change the quality of the 'statesman' in question deteriorated,
until finally only the petty type of political huckster remained. In
such people the qualities of statesmanship were measured and valued
according to the adroitness with which they pieced together one
coalition after another; in other words, their craftiness in
manipulating the pettiest political transactions, which is the only kind
of practical activity suited to the aptitudes of these representatives.

In this sphere Vienna was the school which offered the most impressive
examples.

Another feature that engaged my attention quite as much as the features
I have already spoken of was the contrast between the talents and
knowledge of these representatives of the people on the one hand and, on
the other, the nature of the tasks they had to face. Willingly or
unwillingly, one could not help thinking seriously of the narrow
intellectual outlook of these chosen representatives of the various
constituent nationalities, and one could not avoid pondering on the
methods through which these noble figures in our public life were first
discovered.

It was worth while to make a thorough study and examination of the way
in which the real talents of these gentlemen were devoted to the service
of their country; in other words, to analyse thoroughly the technical
procedure of their activities.

The whole spectacle of parliamentary life became more and more desolate
the more one penetrated into its intimate structure and studied the
persons and principles of the system in a spirit of ruthless
objectivity. Indeed, it is very necessary to be strictly objective in
the study of the institution whose sponsors talk of 'objectivity' in
every other sentence as the only fair basis of examination and judgment.
If one studied these gentlemen and the laws of their strenuous existence
the results were surprising.

There is no other principle which turns out to be quite so ill-conceived
as the parliamentary principle, if we examine it objectively.

In our examination of it we may pass over the methods according to which
the election of the representatives takes place, as well as the ways
which bring them into office and bestow new titles on them. It is quite
evident that only to a tiny degree are public wishes or public
necessities satisfied by the manner in which an election takes place;
for everybody who properly estimates the political intelligence of the
masses can easily see that this is not sufficiently developed to enable
them to form general political judgments on their own account, or to
select the men who might be competent to carry out their ideas in
practice.

Whatever definition we may give of the term 'public opinion', only a
very small part of it originates from personal experience or individual
insight. The greater portion of it results from the manner in which
public matters have been presented to the people through an
overwhelmingly impressive and persistent system of 'information'.

In the religious sphere the profession of a denominational belief is
largely the result of education, while the religious yearning itself
slumbers in the soul; so too the political opinions of the masses are
the final result of influences systematically operating on human
sentiment and intelligence in virtue of a method which is applied
sometimes with almost-incredible thoroughness and perseverance.

By far the most effective branch of political education, which in this
connection is best expressed by the word 'propaganda', is carried on by
the Press. The Press is the chief means employed in the process of
political 'enlightenment'. It represents a kind of school for adults.
This educational activity, however, is not in the hands of the State but
in the clutches of powers which are partly of a very inferior character.
While still a young man in Vienna I had excellent opportunities for
coming to know the men who owned this machine for mass instruction, as
well as those who supplied it with the ideas it distributed. At first I
was quite surprised when I realized how little time was necessary for
this dangerous Great Power within the State to produce a certain belief
among the public; and in doing so the genuine will and convictions of
the public were often completely misconstrued. It took the Press only a
few days to transform some ridiculously trivial matter into an issue of
national importance, while vital problems were completely ignored or
filched and hidden away from public attention.

The Press succeeded in the magical art of producing names from nowhere
within the course of a few weeks. They made it appear that the great
hopes of the masses were bound up with those names. And so they made
those names more popular than any man of real ability could ever hope to
be in a long lifetime. All this was done, despite the fact that such
names were utterly unknown and indeed had never been heard of even up to
a month before the Press publicly emblazoned them. At the same time old
and tried figures in the political and other spheres of life quickly
faded from the public memory and were forgotten as if they were dead,
though still healthy and in the enjoyment of their full viguour. Or
sometimes such men were so vilely abused that it looked as if their
names would soon stand as permanent symbols of the worst kind of
baseness. In order to estimate properly the really pernicious influence
which the Press can exercise one had to study this infamous Jewish
method whereby honourable and decent people were besmirched with mud and
filth, in the form of low abuse and slander, from hundreds and hundreds
of quarters simultaneously, as if commanded by some magic formula.

These highway robbers would grab at anything which might serve their
evil ends.

They would poke their noses into the most intimate family affairs and
would not rest until they had sniffed out some petty item which could be
used to destroy the reputation of their victim. But if the result of all
this sniffing should be that nothing derogatory was discovered in the
private or public life of the victim, they continued to hurl abuse at
him, in the belief that some of their animadversions would stick even
though refuted a thousand times. In most cases it finally turned out
impossible for the victim to continue his defence, because the accuser
worked together with so many accomplices that his slanders were
re-echoed interminably. But these slanderers would never own that they
were acting from motives which influence the common run of humanity or
are understood by them. Oh, no. The scoundrel who defamed his
contemporaries in this villainous way would crown himself with a halo of
heroic probity fashioned of unctuous phraseology and twaddle about his
'duties as a journalist' and other mouldy nonsense of that kind. When
these cuttle-fishes gathered together in large shoals at meetings and
congresses they would give out a lot of slimy talk about a special kind
of honour which they called the professional honour of the journalist.
Then the assembled species would bow their respects to one another.

These are the kind of beings that fabricate more than two-thirds of what
is called public opinion, from the foam of which the parliamentary
Aphrodite eventually arises.

Several volumes would be needed if one were to give an adequate account
of the whole procedure and fully describe all its hollow fallacies. But
if we pass over the details and look at the product itself while it is
in operation I think this alone will be sufficient to open the eyes of
even the most innocent and credulous person, so that he may recognize
the absurdity of this institution by looking at it objectively.

In order to realize how this human aberration is as harmful as it is
absurd, the test and easiest method is to compare democratic
parliamentarianism with a genuine German democracy.

The remarkable characteristic of the parliamentary form of democracy is
the fact that a number of persons, let us say five hundred--including,
in recent time, women also--are elected to parliament and invested with
authority to give final judgment on anything and everything. In practice
they alone are the governing body; for although they may appoint a
Cabinet, which seems outwardly to direct the affairs of state, this
Cabinet has not a real existence of its own. In reality the so-called
Government cannot do anything against the will of the assembly. It can
never be called to account for anything, since the right of decision is
not vested in the Cabinet but in the parliamentary majority. The Cabinet
always functions only as the executor of the will of the majority. Its
political ability can be judged only according to how far it succeeds in
adjusting itself to the will of the majority or in persuading the
majority to agree to its proposals. But this means that it must descend
from the level of a real governing power to that of a mendicant who has
to beg the approval of a majority that may be got together for the time
being. Indeed, the chief preoccupation of the Cabinet must be to secure
for itself, in the case of' each individual measure, the favour of the
majority then in power or, failing that, to form a new majority that
will be more favourably disposed. If it should succeed in either of
these efforts it may go on 'governing' for a little while. If it should
fail to win or form a majority it must retire. The question whether its
policy as such has been right or wrong does not matter at all.

Thereby all responsibility is abolished in practice. To what
consequences such a state of affairs can lead may easily be understood
from the following simple considerations:

Those five hundred deputies who have been elected by the people come
from various dissimilar callings in life and show very varying degrees
of political capacity, with the result that the whole combination is
disjointed and sometimes presents quite a sorry picture. Surely nobody
believes that these chosen representatives of the nation are the choice
spirits or first-class intellects. Nobody, I hope, is foolish enough to
pretend that hundreds of statesmen can emerge from papers placed in the
ballot box by electors who are anything else but averagely intelligent.
The absurd notion that men of genius are born out of universal suffrage
cannot be too strongly repudiated. In the first place, those times may
be really called blessed when one genuine statesman makes his appearance
among a people. Such statesmen do not appear all at once in hundreds or
more. Secondly, among the broad masses there is instinctively a definite
antipathy towards every outstanding genius. There is a better chance of
seeing a camel pass through the eye of a needle than of seeing a really
great man 'discovered' through an election.

Whatever has happened in history above the level of the average of the
broad public has mostly been due to the driving force of an individual
personality.

But here five hundred persons of less than modest intellectual qualities
pass judgment on the most important problems affecting the nation. They
form governments which in turn learn to win the approval of the
illustrious assembly for every legislative step that may be taken, which
means that the policy to be carried out is actually the policy of the
five hundred.

And indeed, generally speaking, the policy bears the stamp of its
origin.

But let us pass over the intellectual qualities of these representatives
and ask what is the nature of the task set before them. If we consider
the fact that the problems which have to be discussed and solved belong
to the most varied and diverse fields we can very well realize how
inefficient a governing system must be which entrusts the right of
decision to a mass assembly in which only very few possess the knowledge
and experience such as would qualify them to deal with the matters that
have to be settled. The most important economic measures are submitted
to a tribunal in which not more than one-tenth of the members have
studied the elements of economics. This means that final authority is
vested in men who are utterly devoid of any preparatory training which
might make them competent to decide on the questions at issue.

The same holds true of every other problem. It is always a majority of
ignorant and incompetent people who decide on each measure; for the
composition of the institution does not vary, while the problems to be
dealt with come from the most varied spheres of public life. An
intelligent judgment would be possible only if different deputies had
the authority to deal with different issues. It is out of the question
to think that the same people are fitted to decide on transport
questions as well as, let us say, on questions of foreign policy, unless
each of them be a universal genius. But scarcely more than one genius
appears in a century. Here we are scarcely ever dealing with real
brains, but only with dilettanti who are as narrow-minded as they are
conceited and arrogant, intellectual DEMI-MONDES of the worst kind. This
is why these honourable gentlemen show such astonishing levity in
discussing and deciding on matters that would demand the most
painstaking consideration even from great minds. Measures of momentous
importance for the future existence of the State are framed and
discussed in an atmosphere more suited to the card-table. Indeed the
latter suggests a much more fitting occupation for these gentlemen than
that of deciding the destinies of a people.

Of course it would be unfair to assume that each member in such a
parliament was endowed by nature with such a small sense of
responsibility. That is out of the question.

But this system, by forcing the individual to pass judgment on questions
for which he is not competent gradually debases his moral character.
Nobody will have the courage to say: "Gentlemen, I am afraid we know
nothing about what we are talking about. I for one have no competency in
the matter at all." Anyhow if such a declaration were made it would not
change matters very much; for such outspoken honesty would not be
understood. The person who made the declaration would be deemed an
honourable ass who ought not to be allowed to spoil the game. Those who
have a knowledge of human nature know that nobody likes to be considered
a fool among his associates; and in certain circles honesty is taken as
an index of stupidity.

Thus it happens that a naturally upright man, once he finds himself
elected to parliament, may eventually be induced by the force of
circumstances to acquiesce in a general line of conduct which is base in
itself and amounts to a betrayal of the public trust. That feeling that
if the individual refrained from taking part in a certain decision his
attitude would not alter the situation in the least, destroys every real
sense of honour which might occasionally arouse the conscience of one
person or another. Finally, the otherwise upright deputy will succeed in
persuading himself that he is by no means the worst of the lot and that
by taking part in a certain line of action he may prevent something
worse from happening.

A counter argument may be put forward here. It may be said that of
course the individual member may not have the knowledge which is
requisite for the treatment of this or that question, yet his attitude
towards it is taken on the advice of his Party as the guiding authority
in each political matter; and it may further be said that the Party sets
up special committees of experts who have even more than the requisite
knowledge for dealing with the questions placed before them.

At first sight, that argument seems sound. But then another question
arises--namely, why are five hundred persons elected if only a few have
the wisdom which is required to deal with the more important problems?

It is not the aim of our modern democratic parliamentary system to bring
together an assembly of intelligent and well-informed deputies. Not at
all. The aim rather is to bring together a group of nonentities who are
dependent on others for their views and who can be all the more easily
led, the narrower the mental outlook of each individual is. That is the
only way in which a party policy, according to the evil meaning it has
to-day, can be put into effect. And by this method alone it is possible
for the wirepuller, who exercises the real control, to remain in the
dark, so that personally he can never be brought to account for his
actions. For under such circumstances none of the decisions taken, no
matter how disastrous they may turn out for the nation as a whole, can
be laid at the door of the individual whom everybody knows to be the
evil genius responsible for the whole affair. All responsibility is
shifted to the shoulders of the Party as a whole.

In practice no actual responsibility remains. For responsibility arises
only from personal duty and not from the obligations that rest with a
parliamentary assembly of empty talkers.

The parliamentary institution attracts people of the badger type, who do
not like the open light. No upright man, who is ready to accept personal
responsibility for his acts, will be attracted to such an institution.

That is the reason why this brand of democracy has become a tool in the
hand of that race which, because of the inner purposes it wishes to
attain, must shun the open light, as it has always done and always will
do. Only a Jew can praise an institution which is as corrupt and false
as himself.

As a contrast to this kind of democracy we have the German democracy,
which is a true democracy; for here the leader is freely chosen and is
obliged to accept full responsibility for all his actions and omissions.
The problems to be dealt with are not put to the vote of the majority;
but they are decided upon by the individual, and as a guarantee of
responsibility for those decisions he pledges all he has in the world
and even his life.

The objection may be raised here that under such conditions it would be
very difficult to find a man who would be ready to devote himself to so
fateful a task. The answer to that objection is as follows:

We thank God that the inner spirit of our German democracy will of
itself prevent the chance careerist, who may be intellectually worthless
and a moral twister, from coming by devious ways to a position in which
he may govern his fellow-citizens. The fear of undertaking such
far-reaching responsibilities, under German democracy, will scare off
the ignorant and the feckless.

But should it happen that such a person might creep in surreptitiously
it will be easy enough to identify him and apostrophize him ruthlessly.
somewhat thus: "Be off, you scoundrel. Don't soil these steps with your
feet; because these are the steps that lead to the portals of the
Pantheon of History, and they are not meant for place-hunters but for
men of noble character."

Such were the views I formed after two years of attendance at the
sessions of the Viennese Parliament. Then I went there no more.

The parliamentary regime became one of the causes why the strength of
the Habsburg State steadily declined during the last years of its
existence. The more the predominance of the German element was whittled
away through parliamentary procedure, the more prominent became the
system of playing off one of the various constituent nationalities
against the other. In the Imperial Parliament it was always the German
element that suffered through the system, which meant that the results
were detrimental to the Empire as a whole; for at the close of the
century even the most simple-minded people could recognize that the
cohesive forces within the Dual Monarchy no longer sufficed to
counterbalance the separatist tendencies of the provincial
nationalities. On the contrary!

The measures which the State adopted for its own maintenance became more
and more mean spirited and in a like degree the general disrespect for
the State increased. Not only Hungary but also the various Slav
provinces gradually ceased to identify themselves with the monarchy
which embraced them all, and accordingly they did not feel its weakness
as in any way detrimental to themselves. They rather welcomed those
manifestations of senile decay. They looked forward to the final
dissolution of the State, and not to its recovery.

The complete collapse was still forestalled in Parliament by the
humiliating concessions that were made to every kind of importunate
demands, at the cost of the German element. Throughout the country the
defence of the State rested on playing off the various nationalities
against one another. But the general trend of this development was
directed against the Germans. Especially since the right of succession
to the throne conferred certain influence on the Archduke Franz
Ferdinand, the policy of increasing the power of the Czechs was carried
out systematically from the upper grades of the administration down to
the lower. With all the means at his command the heir to the Dual
Monarchy personally furthered the policy that aimed at eliminating the
influence of the German element, or at least he acted as protector of
that policy. By the use of State officials as tools, purely German
districts were gradually but decisively brought within the danger zone
of the mixed languages. Even in Lower Austria this process began to make
headway with a constantly increasing tempo and Vienna was looked upon by
the Czechs as their biggest city.

In the family circle of this new Habsburger the Czech language was
favoured. The wife of the Archduke had formerly been a Czech Countess
and was wedded to the Prince by a morganatic marriage. She came from an
environment where hostility to the Germans had been traditional. The
leading idea in the mind of the Archduke was to establish a Slav State
in Central Europe, which was to be constructed on a purely Catholic
basis, so as to serve as a bulwark against Orthodox Russia.

As had happened often in Habsburg history, religion was thus exploited
to serve a purely political policy, and in this case a fatal policy, at
least as far as German interests were concerned. The result was
lamentable in many respects.

Neither the House of Habsburg nor the Catholic Church received the
reward which they expected. Habsburg lost the throne and the Church lost
a great State. By employing religious motives in the service of
politics, a spirit was aroused which the instigators of that policy had
never thought possible.

From the attempt to exterminate Germanism in the old monarchy by every
available means arose the Pan-German Movement in Austria, as a response.

In the 'eighties of the last century Manchester Liberalism, which was
Jewish in its fundamental ideas, had reached the zenith of its influence
in the Dual Monarchy, or had already passed that point. The reaction
which set in did not arise from social but from nationalistic
tendencies, as was always the case in the old Austria. The instinct of
self-preservation drove the German element to defend itself
energetically. Economic considerations only slowly began to gain an
important influence; but they were of secondary concern. But of the
general political chaos two party organizations emerged. The one was
more of a national, and the other more of a social, character; but both
were highly interesting and instructive for the future.

After the war of 1866, which had resulted in the humiliation of Austria,
the House of Habsburg contemplated a REVANCHE on the battlefield. Only
the tragic end of the Emperor Maximilian of Mexico prevented a still
closer collaboration with France. The chief blame for Maximilian's
disastrous expedition was attributed to Napoleon III and the fact that
the Frenchman left him in the lurch aroused a general feeling of
indignation. Yet the Habsburgs were still lying in wait for their
opportunity. If the war of 1870-71 had not been such a singular triumph,
the Viennese Court might have chanced the game of blood in order to get
its revenge for Sadowa. But when the first reports arrived from the
Franco-German battlefield, which, though true, seemed miraculous and
almost incredible, the 'most wise' of all monarchs recognized that the
moment was inopportune and tried to accept the unfavourable situation
with as good a grace as possible.

The heroic conflict of those two years (1870-71) produced a still
greater miracle; for with the Habsburgs the change of attitude never
came from an inner heartfelt urge but only from the pressure of
circumstances. The German people of the East Mark, however, were
entranced by the triumphant glory of the newly established German Empire
and were profoundly moved when they saw the dream of their fathers
resurgent in a magnificent reality.

For--let us make no mistake about it--the true German-Austrian realized
from this time onward, that Königgrätz was the tragic, though necessary,
pre-condition for the re-establishment of an Empire which should no
longer be burdened with the palsy of the old alliance and which indeed
had no share in that morbid decay. Above all, the German-Austrian had
come to feel in the very depths of his own being that the historical
mission of the House of Habsburg had come to an end and that the new
Empire could choose only an Emperor who was of heroic mould and was
therefore worthy to wear the 'Crown of the Rhine'. It was right and just
that Destiny should be praised for having chosen a scion of that House
of which Frederick the Great had in past times given the nation an
elevated and resplendent symbol for all time to come.

After the great war of 1870-71 the House of Habsburg set to work with
all its determination to exterminate the dangerous German element--about
whose inner feelings and attitude there could be no doubt--slowly but
deliberately. I use the word exterminate, because that alone expresses
what must have been the final result of the Slavophile policy. Then it
was that the fire of rebellion blazed up among the people whose
extermination had been decreed. That fire was such as had never been
witnessed in modern German history.

For the first time nationalists and patriots were transformed into
rebels.

Not rebels against the nation or the State as such but rebels against
that form of government which they were convinced, would inevitably
bring about the ruin of their own people. For the first time in modern
history the traditional dynastic patriotism and national love of
fatherland and people were in open conflict.

It was to the merit of the Pan-German movement in Austria during the
closing decade of the last century that it pointed out clearly and
unequivocally that a State is entitled to demand respect and protection
for its authority only when such authority is administered in accordance
with the interests of the nation, or at least not in a manner
detrimental to those interests.

The authority of the State can never be an end in itself; for, if that
were so, any kind of tyranny would be inviolable and sacred.

If a government uses the instruments of power in its hands for the
purpose of leading a people to ruin, then rebellion is not only the
right but also the duty of every individual citizen.

The question of whether and when such a situation exists cannot be
answered by theoretical dissertations but only by the exercise of force,
and it is success that decides the issue.

Every government, even though it may be the worst possible and even
though it may have betrayed the nation's trust in thousands of ways,
will claim that its duty is to uphold the authority of the State. Its
adversaries, who are fighting for national self-preservation, must use
the same weapons which the government uses if they are to prevail
against such a rule and secure their own freedom and independence.
Therefore the conflict will be fought out with 'legal' means as long as
the power which is to be overthrown uses them; but the insurgents will
not hesitate to apply illegal means if the oppressor himself employs
them.

Generally speaking, we must not forget that the highest aim of human
existence is not the maintenance of a State of Government but rather the
conservation of the race.

If the race is in danger of being oppressed or even exterminated the
question of legality is only of secondary importance. The established
power may in such a case employ only those means which are recognized as
'legal'. yet the instinct of self-preservation on the part of the
oppressed will always justify, to the highest degree, the employment of
all possible resources.

Only on the recognition of this principle was it possible for those
struggles to be carried through, of which history furnishes magnificent
examples in abundance, against foreign bondage or oppression at home.

Human rights are above the rights of the State. But if a people be
defeated in the struggle for its human rights this means that its weight
has proved too light in the scale of Destiny to have the luck of being
able to endure in this terrestrial world.

The world is not there to be possessed by the faint-hearted races.



Austria affords a very clear and striking example of how easy it is for
tyranny to hide its head under the cloak of what is called 'legality'.

The legal exercise of power in the Habsburg State was then based on the
anti-German attitude of the parliament, with its non-German majorities,
and on the dynastic House, which was also hostile to the German element.
The whole authority of the State was incorporated in these two factors.
To attempt to alter the lot of the German element through these two
factors would have been senseless. Those who advised the 'legal' way as
the only possible way, and also obedience to the State authority, could
offer no resistance; because a policy of resistance could not have been
put into effect through legal measures. To follow the advice of the
legalist counsellors would have meant the inevitable ruin of the German
element within the Monarchy, and this disaster would not have taken long
to come. The German element has actually been saved only because the
State as such collapsed.

The spectacled theorist would have given his life for his doctrine
rather than for his people.

Because man has made laws he subsequently comes to think that he exists
for the sake of the laws.

A great service rendered by the pan-German movement then was that it
abolished all such nonsense, though the doctrinaire theorists and other
fetish worshippers were shocked.

When the Habsburgs attempted to come to close quarters with the German
element, by the employment of all the means of attack which they had at
their command, the Pan-German Party hit out ruthlessly against the
'illustrious' dynasty. This Party was the first to probe into and expose
the corrupt condition of the State; and in doing so they opened the eyes
of hundreds of thousands. To have liberated the high ideal of love for
one's country from the embrace of this deplorable dynasty was one of the
great services rendered by the Pan-German movement.

When that Party first made its appearance it secured a large
following--indeed, the movement threatened to become almost an
avalanche. But the first successes were not maintained. At the time I
came to Vienna the pan-German Party had been eclipsed by the
Christian-Socialist Party, which had come into power in the meantime.
Indeed, the Pan-German Party had sunk to a level of almost complete
insignificance.

The rise and decline of the Pan-German movement on the one hand and the
marvellous progress of the Christian-Socialist Party on the other,
became a classic object of study for me, and as such they played an
important part in the development of my own views.

When I came to Vienna all my sympathies were exclusively with the
Pan-German Movement.

I was just as much impressed by the fact that they had the courage to
shout HEIL HOHENZOLLERN as I rejoiced at their determination to consider
themselves an integral part of the German Empire, from which they were
separated only provisionally. They never missed an opportunity to
explain their attitude in public, which raised my enthusiasm and
confidence. To avow one's principles publicly on every problem that
concerned Germanism, and never to make any compromises, seemed to me the
only way of saving our people. What I could not understand was how this
movement broke down so soon after such a magnificent start; and it was
no less incomprehensible that the Christian-Socialists should gain such
tremendous power within such a short time. They had just reached the
pinnacle of their popularity.

When I began to compare those two movements Fate placed before me the
best means of understanding the causes of this puzzling problem. The
action of Fate in this case was hastened by my own straitened
circumstances.

I shall begin my analysis with an account of the two men who must be
regarded as the founders and leaders of the two movements. These were
George von Schönerer and Dr. Karl Lueger.

As far as personality goes, both were far above the level and stature of
the so-called parliamentary figures. They lived lives of immaculate and
irreproachable probity amidst the miasma of all-round political
corruption. Personally I first liked the Pan-German representative,
Schönerer, and it was only afterwards and gradually that I felt an equal
liking for the Christian-Socialist leader.

When I compared their respective abilities Schönerer seemed to me a
better and more profound thinker on fundamental problems. He foresaw the
inevitable downfall of the Austrian State more clearly and accurately
than anyone else. If this warning in regard to the Habsburg Empire had
been heeded in Germany the disastrous world war, which involved Germany
against the whole of Europe, would never have taken place.

But though Schönerer succeeded in penetrating to the essentials of a
problem he was very often much mistaken in his judgment of men.

And herein lay Dr. Lueger's special talent. He had a rare gift of
insight into human nature and he was very careful not to take men as
something better than they were in reality. He based his plans on the
practical possibilities which human life offered him, whereas Schönerer
had only little discrimination in that respect. All ideas that this
Pan-German had were right in the abstract, but he did not have the
forcefulness or understanding necessary to put his ideas across to the
broad masses. He was not able to formulate them so that they could be
easily grasped by the masses, whose powers of comprehension are limited
and will always remain so. Therefore all Schönerer's knowledge was only
the wisdom of a prophet and he never could succeed in having it put into
practice.

This lack of insight into human nature led him to form a wrong estimate
of the forces behind certain movements and the inherent strength of old
institutions.

Schönerer indeed realized that the problems he had to deal with were in
the nature of a WELTANSCHAUUNG; but he did not understand that only the
broad masses of a nation can make such convictions prevail, which are
almost of a religious nature.

Unfortunately he understood only very imperfectly how feeble is the
fighting spirit of the so-called bourgeoisie. That weakness is due to
their business interests, which individuals are too much afraid of
risking and which therefore deter them from taking action. And,
generally speaking, a WELTANSCHAUUNG can have no prospect of success
unless the broad masses declare themselves ready to act as its
standard-bearers and to fight on its behalf wherever and to whatever
extent that may be necessary.

This failure to understand the importance of the lower strata of the
population resulted in a very inadequate concept of the social problem.

In all this Dr. Lueger was the opposite of Schönerer. His profound
knowledge of human nature enabled him to form a correct estimate of the
various social forces and it saved him from under-rating the power of
existing institutions. And it was perhaps this very quality which
enabled him to utilize those institutions as a means to serve the
purposes of his policy.

He saw only too clearly that, in our epoch, the political fighting power
of the upper classes is quite insignificant and not at all capable of
fighting for a great new movement until the triumph of that movement be
secured. Thus he devoted the greatest part of his political activity to
the task of winning over those sections of the population whose
existence was in danger and fostering the militant spirit in them rather
than attempting to paralyse it. He was also quick to adopt all available
means for winning the support of long-established institutions, so as to
be able to derive the greatest possible advantage for his movement from
those old sources of power.

Thus it was that, first of all, he chose as the social basis of his new
Party that middle class which was threatened with extinction. In this
way he secured a solid following which was willing to make great
sacrifices and had good fighting stamina. His extremely wise attitude
towards the Catholic Church rapidly won over the younger clergy in such
large numbers that the old Clerical Party was forced to retire from the
field of action or else, which was the wiser course, join the new Party,
in the hope of gradually winning back one position after another.

But it would be a serious injustice to the man if we were to regard this
as his essential characteristic. For he possessed the qualities of an
able tactician, and had the true genius of a great reformer; but all
these were limited by his exact perception of the possibilities at hand
and also of his own capabilities.

The aims which this really eminent man decided to pursue were intensely
practical. He wished to conquer Vienna, the heart of the Monarchy. It
was from Vienna that the last pulses of life beat through the diseased
and worn-out body of the decrepit Empire. If the heart could be made
healthier the others parts of the body were bound to revive. That idea
was correct in principle; but the time within which it could be applied
in practice was strictly limited. And that was the man's weak point.

His achievements as Burgomaster of the City of Vienna are immortal, in
the best sense of the word. But all that could not save the Monarchy. It
came too late.

His rival, Schönerer, saw this more clearly. What Dr. Lueger undertook
to put into practice turned out marvellously successful. But the results
which he expected to follow these achievements did not come. Schönerer
did not attain the ends he had proposed to himself; but his fears were
realized, alas, in a terrible fashion. Thus both these men failed to
attain their further objectives. Lueger could not save Austria and
Schönerer could not prevent the downfall of the German people in
Austria.

To study the causes of failure in the case of these two parties is to
learn a lesson that is highly instructive for our own epoch. This is
specially useful for my friends, because in many points the
circumstances of our own day are similar to those of that time.
Therefore such a lesson may help us to guard against the mistakes which
brought one of those movements to an end and rendered the other barren
of results.

In my opinion, the wreck of the Pan-German Movement in Austria must be
attributed to three causes.

The first of these consisted in the fact that the leaders did not have a
clear concept of the importance of the social problem, particularly for
a new movement which had an essentially revolutionary character.
Schönerer and his followers directed their attention principally to the
bourgeois classes. For that reason their movement was bound to turn out
mediocre and tame. The German bourgeoisie, especially in its upper
circles, is pacifist even to the point of complete
self-abnegation--though the individual may not be aware of
this--wherever the internal affairs of the nation or State are
concerned. In good times, which in this case means times of good
government, such a psychological attitude makes this social layer
extraordinarily valuable to the State. But when there is a bad
government, such a quality has a destructive effect. In order to assure
the possibility of carrying through a really strenuous struggle, the
Pan-German Movement should have devoted its efforts to winning over the
masses. The failure to do this left the movement from the very beginning
without the elementary impulse which such a wave needs if it is not to
ebb within a short while.

In failing to see the truth of this principle clearly at the very outset
of the movement and in neglecting to put it into practice the new Party
made an initial mistake which could not possibly be rectified
afterwards. For the numerous moderate bourgeois elements admitted into
the movements increasingly determined its internal orientation and thus
forestalled all further prospects of gaining any appreciable support
among the masses of the people. Under such conditions such a movement
could not get beyond mere discussion and criticism. Quasi-religious
faith and the spirit of sacrifice were not to be found in the movement
any more. Their place was taken by the effort towards 'positive'
collaboration, which in this case meant the acknowledgment of the
existing state of affairs, gradually whittling away the rough corners of
the questions in dispute, and ending up with the making of a
dishonourable peace.

Such was the fate of the Pan-German Movement, because at the start the
leaders did not realize that the most important condition of success was
that they should recruit their following from the broad masses of the
people. The Movement thus became bourgeois and respectable and radical
only in moderation.

From this failure resulted the second cause of its rapid decline.

The position of the Germans in Austria was already desperate when
Pan-Germanism arose. Year after year Parliament was being used more and
more as an instrument for the gradual extinction of the German-Austrian
population. The only hope for any eleventh-hour effort to save it lay in
the overthrow of the parliamentary system; but there was very little
prospect of this happening.

Therewith the Pan-German Movement was confronted with a question of
primary importance.

To overthrow the Parliament, should the Pan-Germanists have entered it
'to undermine it from within', as the current phrase was? Or should they
have assailed the institution as such from the outside?

They entered the Parliament and came out defeated. But they had found
themselves obliged to enter.

For in order to wage an effective war against such a power from the
outside, indomitable courage and a ready spirit of sacrifice were
necessary weapons. In such cases the bull must be seized by the horns.
Furious drives may bring the assailant to the ground again and again;
but if he has a stout heart he will stand up, even though some bones may
be broken, and only after a long and tough struggle will he achieve his
triumph. New champions are attracted to a cause by the appeal of great
sacrifices made for its sake, until that indomitable spirit is finally
crowned with success.

For such a result, however, the children of the people from the great
masses are necessary. They alone have the requisite determination and
tenacity to fight a sanguinary issue through to the end. But the
Pan-German Movement did not have these broad masses as its champions,
and so no other means of solution could be tried out except that of
entering Parliamcnt.

It would be a mistake to think that this decision resulted from a long
series of internal hesitations of a moral kind, or that it was the
outcome of careful calculation. No. They did not even think of another
solution. Those who participated in this blunder were actuated by
general considerations and vague notions as to what would be the
significance and effect of taking part in such a special way in that
institution which they had condemned on principle. In general they hoped
that they would thus have the means of expounding their cause to the
great masses of the people, because they would be able to speak before
'the forum of the whole nation'. Also, it seemed reasonable to believe
that by attacking the evil in the root they would be more effective than
if the attack came from outside. They believed that, if protected by the
immunity of Parliament, the position of the individual protagonists
would be strengthened and that thus the force of their attacks would be
enhanced.

In reality everything turned out quite otherwise.

The Forum before which the Pan-German representatives spoke had not
grown greater, but had actually become smaller; for each spoke only to
the circle that was ready to listen to him or could read the report of
his speech in the newspapers.

But the greater forum of immediate listeners is not the parliamentary
auditorium: it is the large public meeting. For here alone will there be
thousands of men who have come simply to hear what a speaker has to say,
whereas in the parliamentary sittings only a few hundred are present;
and for the most part these are there only to earn their daily allowance
for attendance and not to be enlightened by the wisdom of one or other
of the 'representatives of the people'.

The most important consideration is that the same public is always
present and that this public does not wish to learn anything new;
because, setting aside the question of its intelligence, it lacks even
that modest quantum of will-power which is necessary for the effort of
learning.

Not one of the representatives of the people will pay homage to a
superior truth and devote himself to its service. No. Not one of these
gentry will act thus, except he has grounds for hoping that by such a
conversion he may be able to retain the representation of his
constituency in the coming legislature. Therefore, only when it becomes
quite clear that the old party is likely to have a bad time of it at the
forthcoming elections--only then will those models of manly virtue set
out in search of a new party or a new policy which may have better
electoral prospects; but of course this change of position will be
accompanied by a veritable deluge of high moral motives to justify it.
And thus it always happens that when an existing Party has incurred such
general disfavour among the public that it is threatened with the
probability of a crushing defeat, then a great migration commences. The
parliamentary rats leave the Party ship.

All this happens not because the individuals in the case have become
better informed on the questions at issue and have resolved to act
accordingly. These changes of front are evidence only of that gift of
clairvoyance which warns the parliamentary flea at the right moment and
enables him to hop into another warm Party bed.

To speak before such a forum signifies casting pearls before certain
animals.

Verily it does not repay the pains taken; for the result must always be
negative.

And that is actually what happened. The Pan-German representatives might
have talked themselves hoarse, but to no effect whatsoever.

The Press either ignored them totally or so mutilated their speeches
that the logical consistency was destroyed or the meaning twisted round
in such a way that the public got only a very wrong impression regarding
the aims of the new movement. What the individual members said was not
of importance. The important matter was what people read as coming from
them. This consisted of mere extracts which had been torn out of the
context of the speeches and gave an impression of incoherent nonsense,
which indeed was purposely meant. Thus the only public before which they
really spoke consisted merely of five hundred parliamentarians; and that
says enough.

The worst was the following:

The Pan-German Movement could hope for success only if the leaders
realized from the very first moment that here there was no question so
much of a new Party as of a new WELTANSCHAUUNG. This alone could arouse
the inner moral forces that were necessary for such a gigantic struggle.
And for this struggle the leaders must be men of first-class brains and
indomitable courage. If the struggle on behalf of a WELTANSCHAUUNG is
not conducted by men of heroic spirit who are ready to sacrifice,
everything, within a short while it will become impossible to find real
fighting followers who are ready to lay down their lives for the cause.
A man who fights only for his own existence has not much left over for
the service of the community.

In order to secure the conditions that are necessary for success,
everybody concerned must be made to understand that the new movement
looks to posterity for its honour and glory but that it has no
recompense to offer to the present-day members. If a movement should
offer a large number of positions and offices that are easily accessible
the number of unworthy candidates admitted to membership will be
constantly on the increase and eventually a day will come when there
will be such a preponderance of political profiteers among the
membership of a successful Party that the combatants who bore the brunt
of the battle in the earlier stages of the movement can now scarcely
recognize their own Party and may be ejected by the later arrivals as
unwanted ballast. Therewith the movement will no longer have a mission
to fulfil.

Once the Pan-Germanists decided to collaborate with Parliament they were
no longer leaders and combatants in a popular movement, but merely
parliamentarians. Thus the Movement sank to the common political party
level of the day and no longer had the strength to face a hostile fate
and defy the risk of martyrdom. Instead of fighting, the Pan-German
leaders fell into the habit of talking and negotiating. The new
parliamentarians soon found that it was a more satisfactory, because
less risky, way of fulfilling their task if they would defend the new
WELTANSCHAUUNG with the spiritual weapon of parliamentary rhetoric
rather than take up a fight in which they placed their lives in danger,
the outcome of which also was uncertain and even at the best could offer
no prospect of personal gain for themselves.

When they had taken their seats in Parliament their adherents outside
hoped and waited for miracles to happen. Naturally no such miracles
happened or could happen. Whereupon the adherents of the movement soon
grew impatient, because reports they read about their own deputies did
not in the least come up to what had been expected when they voted for
these deputies at the elections. The reason for this was not far to
seek. It was due to the fact that an unfriendly Press refrained from
giving a true account of what the Pan-German representatives of the
people were actually doing.

According as the new deputies got to like this mild form of
'revolutionary' struggle in Parliament and in the provincial diets they
gradually became reluctant to resume the more hazardous work of
expounding the principles of the movement before the broad masses of the
people.

Mass meetings in public became more and more rare, though these are the
only means of exercising a really effective influence on the people;
because here the influence comes from direct personal contact and in
this way the support of large sections of the people can be obtained.

When the tables on which the speakers used to stand in the great
beer-halls, addressing an assembly of thousands, were deserted for the
parliamentary tribune and the speeches were no longer addressed to the
people directly but to the so-called 'chosen' representatives, the
Pan-German Movement lost its popular character and in a little while
degenerated to the level of a more or less serious club where problems
of the day are discussed academically.

The wrong impression created by the Press was no longer corrected by
personal contact with the people through public meetings, whereby the
individual representatives might have given a true account of their
activities. The final result of this neglect was that the word
'Pan-German' came to have an unpleasant sound in the ears of the masses.

The knights of the pen and the literary snobs of to-day should be made
to realize that the great transformations which have taken place in this
world were never conducted by a goosequill. No. The task of the pen must
always be that of presenting the theoretical concepts which motivate
such changes. The force which has ever and always set in motion great
historical avalanches of religious and political movements is the magic
power of the spoken word.

The broad masses of a population are more amenable to the appeal of
rhetoric than to any other force. All great movements are popular
movements. They are the volcanic eruptions of human passions and
emotions, stirred into activity by the ruthless Goddess of Distress or
by the torch of the spoken word cast into the midst of the people. In no
case have great movements been set afoot by the syrupy effusions of
aesthetic littérateurs and drawing-room heroes.

The doom of a nation can be averted only by a storm of glowing passion;
but only those who are passionate themselves can arouse passion in
others. It is only through the capacity for passionate feeling that
chosen leaders can wield the power of the word which, like hammer blows,
will open the door to the hearts of the people.

He who is not capable of passionate feeling and speech was never chosen
by Providence to be the herald of its will. Therefore a writer should
stick to his ink-bottle and busy himself with theoretical questions if
he has the requisite ability and knowledge. He has not been born or
chosen to be a leader.

A movement which has great ends to achieve must carefully guard against
the danger of losing contact with the masses of the people. Every
problem encountered must be examined from this viewpoint first of all
and the decision to be made must always be in harmony with this
principle.

The movement must avoid everything which might lessen or weaken its
power of influencing the masses; not from demagogical motives but
because of the simple fact that no great idea, no matter how sublime and
exalted it may appear, can be realized in practice without the effective
power which resides in the popular masses. Stern reality alone must mark
the way to the goal. To be unwilling to walk the road of hardship means,
only too often in this world, the total renunciation of our aims and
purposes, whether that renunciation be consciously willed or not.

The moment the Pan-German leaders, in virtue of their acceptance of the
parliamentary principle, moved the centre of their activities away from
the people and into Parliament, in that moment they sacrificed the
future for the sake of a cheap momentary success. They chose the easier
way in the struggle and in doing so rendered themselves unworthy of the
final victory.

While in Vienna I used to ponder seriously over these two questions, and
I saw that the main reason for the collapse of the Pan-German Movement
lay in the fact that these very questions were not rightly appreciated.
To my mind at that time the Movement seemed chosen to take in its hands
the leadership of the German element in Austria.

These first two blunders which led to the downfall of the Pan-German
Movement were very closely connected with one another. Faulty
recognition of the inner driving forces that urge great movements
forward led to an inadequate appreciation of the part which the broad
masses play in bringing about such changes. The result was that too
little attention was given to the social problem and that the attempts
made by the movement to capture the minds of the lower classes were too
few and too weak. Another result was the acceptance of the parliamentary
policy, which had a similar effect in regard to the importance of the
masses.

If there had been a proper appreciation of the tremendous powers of
endurance always shown by the masses in revolutionary movements a
different attitude towards the social problem would have been taken, and
also a different policy in the matter of propaganda. Then the centre of
gravity of the movement would not have been transferred to the
Parliament but would have remained in the workshops and in the streets.

There was a third mistake, which also had its roots in the failure to
understand the worth of the masses. The masses are first set in motion,
along a definite direction, by men of superior talents; but then these
masses once in motion are like a flywheel inasmuch as they sustain the
momentum and steady balance of the offensive.

The policy of the Pan-German leaders in deciding to carry through a
difficult fight against the Catholic Church can be explained only by
attributing it to an inadequate understanding of the spiritual character
of the people.

The reasons why the new Party engaged in a violent campaign against Rome
were as follows:

As soon as the House of Habsburg had definitely decided to transform
Austria into a Slav State all sorts of means were adopted which seemed
in any way serviceable for that purpose. The Habsburg rulers had no
scruples of conscience about exploiting even religious institutions in
the service of this new 'State Idea'. One of the many methods thus
employed was the use of Czech parishes and their clergy as instruments
for spreading Slav hegemony throughout Austria. This proceeding was
carried out as follows:

Parish priests of Czech nationality were appointed in purely German
districts. Gradually but steadily pushing forward the interests of the
Czech people before those of the Church, the parishes and their priests
became generative cells in the process of de-Germanization.

Unfortunately the German-Austrian clergy completely failed to counter
this procedure. Not only were they incapable of taking a similar
initiative on the German side, but they showed themselves unable to meet
the Czech offensive with adequate resistance. The German element was
accordingly pushed backwards, slowly but steadily, through the
perversion of religious belief for political ends on the one side, and
the Jack of proper resistance on the other side. Such were the tactics
used in dealing with the smaller problems; but those used in dealing
with the larger problems were not very different.

The anti-German aims pursued by the Habsburgs, especially through the
instrumentality of the higher clergy, did not meet with any vigorous
resistance, while the clerical representatives of the German interests
withdrew completely to the rear. The general impression created could
not be other than that the Catholic clergy as such were grossly
neglecting the rights of the German population.

Therefore it looked as if the Catholic Church was not in sympathy with
the German people but that it unjustly supported their adversaries. The
root of the whole evil, especially according to Schönerer's opinion, lay
in the fact that the leadership of the Catholic Church was not in
Germany, and that this fact alone was sufficient reason for the hostile
attitude of the Church towards the demands of our people.

The so-called cultural problem receded almost completely into the
background, as was generally the case everywhere throughout Austria at
that time. In assuming a hostile attitude towards the Catholic Church,
the Pan-German leaders were influenced not so much by the Church's
position in questions of science but principally by the fact that the
Church did not defend German rights, as it should have done, but always
supported those who encroached on these rights, especially then Slavs.

George Schönerer was not a man who did things by halves. He went into
battle against the Church because he was convinced that this was the
only way in which the German people could be saved. The LOS-VON-ROM
(Away from Rome) Movement seemed the most formidable, but at the same
time most difficult, method of attacking and destroying the adversary's
citadel. Schönerer believed that if this movement could be carried
through successfully the unfortunate division between the two great
religious denominations in Germany would be wiped out and that the inner
forces of the German Empire and Nation would be enormously enhanced by
such a victory.

But the premises as well as the conclusions in this case were both
erroneous.

It was undoubtedly true that the national powers of resistance, in
everything concerning Germanism as such, were much weaker among the
German Catholic clergy than among their non-German confrères, especially
the Czechs. And only an ignorant person could be unaware of the fact
that it scarcely ever entered the mind of the German clergy to take the
offensive on behalf of German interests.

But at the same time everybody who is not blind to facts must admit that
all this should be attributed to a characteristic under which we Germans
have all been doomed to suffer. This characteristic shows itself in our
objective way of regarding our own nationality, as if it were something
that lay outside of us.

While the Czech priest adopted a subjective attitude towards his own
people and only an objective attitude towards the Church, the German
parish priest showed a subjective devotion to his Church and remained
objective in regard to his nation. It is a phenomenon which,
unfortunately for us, can be observed occurring in exactly the same way
in thousands of other cases.

It is by no means a peculiar inheritance from Catholicism; but it is
something in us which does not take long to gnaw the vitals of almost
every institution, especially institutions of State and those which have
ideal aims. Take, for example, the attitude of our State officials in
regard to the efforts made for bringing about a national resurgence and
compare that attitude with the stand which the public officials of any
other nation would have taken in such a case. Or is it to be believed
that the military officers of any other country in the world would
refuse to come forward on behalf of the national aspirations, but would
rather hide behind the phrase 'Authority of the State', as has been the
case in our country during the last five years and has even been deemed
a meritorious attitude? Or let us take another example. In regard to the
Jewish problem, do not the two Christian denominations take up a
standpoint to-day which does not respond to the national exigencies or
even the interests of religion? Consider the attitude of a Jewish Rabbi
towards any question, even one of quite insignificant importance,
concerning the Jews as a race, and compare his attitude with that of the
majority of our clergy, whether Catholic or Protestant.

We observe the same phenomenon wherever it is a matter of standing up
for some abstract idea.

'Authority of the State', 'Democracy', 'Pacifism', 'International
Solidarity', etc., all such notions become rigid, dogmatic concepts with
us; and the more vital the general necessities of the nation, the more
will they be judged exclusively in the light of those concepts.

This unfortunate habit of looking at all national demands from the
viewpoint of a pre-conceived notion makes it impossible for us to see
the subjective side of a thing which objectively contradicts one's own
doctrine. It finally leads to a complete reversion in the relation of
means to an end. Any attempt at a national revival will be opposed if
the preliminary condition of such a revival be that a bad and pernicious
regime must first of all be overthrown; because such an action will be
considered as a violation of the 'Authority of the State'. In the eyes
of those who take that standpoint, the 'Authority of the State' is not a
means which is there to serve an end but rather, to the mind of the
dogmatic believer in objectivity, it is an end in itself; and he looks
upon that as sufficient apology for his own miserable existence. Such
people would raise an outcry, if, for instance, anyone should attempt to
set up a dictatorship, even though the man responsible for it were
Frederick the Great and even though the politicians for the time being,
who constituted the parliamentary majority, were small and incompetent
men or maybe even on a lower grade of inferiority; because to such
sticklers for abstract principles the law of democracy is more sacred
than the welfare of the nation. In accordance with his principles, one
of these gentry will defend the worst kind of tyranny, though it may be
leading a people to ruin, because it is the fleeting embodiment of the
'Authority of the State', and another will reject even a highly
beneficent government if it should happen not to be in accord with his
notion of 'democracy'.

In the same way our German pacifist will remain silent while the nation
is groaning under an oppression which is being exercised by a sanguinary
military power, when this state of affairs gives rise to active
resistance; because such resistance means the employment of physical
force, which is against the spirit of the pacifist associations. The
German International Socialist may be rooked and plundered by his
comrades in all the other countries of the world in the name of
'solidarity', but he responds with fraternal kindness and never thinks
of trying to get his own back, or even of defending himself. And why?
Because he is a--German.

It may be unpleasant to dwell on such truths, but if something is to be
changed we must start by diagnosing the disease.

The phenomenon which I have just described also accounts for the feeble
manner in which German interests are promoted and defended by a section
of the clergy.

Such conduct is not the manifestation of a malicious intent, nor is it
the outcome of orders given from 'above', as we say; but such a lack of
national grit and determination is due to defects in our educational
system. For, instead of inculcating in the youth a lively sense of their
German nationality, the aim of the educational system is to make the
youth prostrate themselves in homage to the idea, as if the idea were an
idol.

The education which makes them the devotees of such abstract notions as
'Democracy', 'International Socialism', 'Pacifism', etc., is so
hard-and-fast and exclusive and, operating as it does from within
outwards, is so purely subjective that in forming their general picture
of outside life as a whole they are fundamentally influenced by these
A PRIORI notions. But, on the other hand, the attitude towards their own
German nationality has been very objective from youth upwards. The
Pacifist--in so far as he is a German--who surrenders himself
subjectively, body and soul, to the dictates of his dogmatic principles,
will always first consider the objective right or wrong of a situation
when danger threatens his own people, even though that danger be grave
and unjustly wrought from outside. But he will never take his stand in
the ranks of his own people and fight for and with them from the sheer
instinct of self-preservation.

Another example may further illustrate how far this applies to the
different religious denominations. In so far as its origin and tradition
are based on German ideals, Protestantism of itself defends those ideals
better. But it fails the moment it is called upon to defend national
interests which do not belong to the sphere of its ideals and
traditional development, or which, for some reason or other, may be
rejected by that sphere.

Therefore Protestantism will always take its part in promoting German
ideals as far as concerns moral integrity or national education, when
the German spiritual being or language or spiritual freedom are to be
defended: because these represent the principles on which Protestantism
itself is grounded. But this same Protestantism violently opposes every
attempt to rescue the nation from the clutches of its mortal enemy;
because the Protestant attitude towards the Jews is more or less rigidly
and dogmatically fixed. And yet this is the first problem which has to
be solved, unless all attempts to bring about a German resurgence or to
raise the level of the nation's standing are doomed to turn out
nonsensical and impossible.

During my sojourn in Vienna I had ample leisure and opportunity to study
this problem without allowing any prejudices to intervene; and in my
daily intercourse with people I was able to establish the correctness of
the opinion I formed by the test of thousands of instances.

In this focus where the greatest varieties of nationality had converged
it was quite clear and open to everybody to see that the German pacifist
was always and exclusively the one who tried to consider the interests
of his own nation objectively; but you could never find a Jew who took a
similar attitude towards his own race. Furthermore, I found that only
the German Socialist is 'international' in the sense that he feels
himself obliged not to demand justice for his own people in any other
manner than by whining and wailing to his international comrades. Nobody
could ever reproach Czechs or Poles or other nations with such conduct.
In short, even at that time, already I recognized that this evil is only
partly a result of the doctrines taught by Socialism, Pacifism, etc.,
but mainly the result of our totally inadequate system of education, the
defects of which are responsible for the lack of devotion to our own
national ideals.

Therefore the first theoretical argument advanced by the Pan-German
leaders as the basis of their offensive against Catholicism was quite
entenable.

The only way to remedy the evil I have been speaking of is to train the
Germans from youth upwards to an absolute recognition of the rights of
their own people, instead of poisoning their minds, while they are still
only children, with the virus of this curbed 'objectivity', even in
matters concerning the very maintenance of our own existence. The result
of this would be that the Catholic in Germany, just as in Ireland,
Poland or France, will be a German first and foremost. But all this
presupposes a radical change in the national government.

The strongest proof in support of my contention is furnished by what
took place at that historical juncture when our people were called for
the last time before the tribunal of History to defend their own
existence, in a life-or-death struggle.

As long as there was no lack of leadership in the higher circles, the
people fulfilled their duty and obligations to an overwhelming extent.
Whether Protestant pastor or Catholic priest, each did his very utmost
in helping our powers of resistance to hold out, not only in the
trenches but also, and even more so, at home. During those years, and
especially during the first outburst of enthusiasm, in both religious
camps there was one undivided and sacred German Empire for whose
preservation and future existence they all prayed to Heaven.

The Pan-German Movement in Austria ought to have asked itself this one
question: Is the maintenance of the German element in Austria possible
or not, as long as that element remains within the fold of the Catholic
Faith? If that question should have been answered in the affirmative,
then the political Party should not have meddled in religious and
denominational questions. But if the question had to be answered in the
negative, then a religious reformation should have been started and not
a political party movement.

Anyone who believes that a religious reformation can be achieved through
the agency of a political organization shows that he has no idea of the
development of religious conceptions and doctrines of faith and how
these are given practical effect by the Church.

No man can serve two masters. And I hold that the foundation or
overthrow of a religion has far greater consequences than the foundation
or overthrow of a State, to say nothing of a Party.

It is no argument to the contrary to say that the attacks were only
defensive measures against attacks from the other side.

Undoubtedly there have always been unscrupulous rogues who did not
hesitate to degrade religion to the base uses of politics. Nearly always
such a people had nothing else in their minds except to make a business
of religions and politics. But on the other hand it would be wrong to
hold religion itself, or a religious denomination, responsible for a
number of rascals who exploit the Church for their own base interests
just as they would exploit anything else in which they had a part.

Nothing could be more to the taste of one of these parliamentary
loungers and tricksters than to be able to find a scapegoat for his
political sharp-practice--after the event, of course. The moment
religion or a religious denomination is attacked and made responsible
for his personal misdeeds this shrewd fellow will raise a row at once
and call the world to witness how justified he was in acting as he did,
proclaiming that he and his eloquence alone have saved religion and the
Church. The public, which is mostly stupid and has a very short memory,
is not capable of recognizing the real instigator of the quarrel in the
midst of the turmoil that has been raised. Frequently it does not
remember the beginning of the fight and so the rogue gets by with his
stunt.

A cunning fellow of that sort is quite well aware that his misdeeds have
nothing to do with religion. And so he will laugh up his sleeve all the
more heartily when his honest but artless adversary loses the game and,
one day losing all faith in humanity, retires from the activities of
public life.

But from another viewpoint also it would be wrong to make religion, or
the Church as such, responsible for the misdeeds of individuals. If one
compares the magnitude of the organization, as it stands visible to
every eye, with the average weakness of human nature we shall have to
admit that the proportion of good to bad is more favourable here than
anywhere else. Among the priests there may, of course, be some who use
their sacred calling to further their political ambitions. There are
clergy who unfortunately forget that in the political mêlée they ought
to be the paladins of the more sublime truths and not the abettors of
falsehood and slander. But for each one of these unworthy specimens we
can find a thousand or more who fulfil their mission nobly as the
trustworthy guardians of souls and who tower above the level of our
corrupt epoch, as little islands above the seaswamp.

I cannot condemn the Church as such, and I should feel quite as little
justified in doing so if some depraved person in the robe of a priest
commits some offence against the moral law. Nor should I for a moment
think of blaming the Church if one of its innumerable members betrays
and besmirches his compatriots, especially not in epochs when such
conduct is quite common. We must not forget, particularly in our day,
that for one such Ephialtes (Note 7) there are a thousand whose hearts
bleed in sympathy with their people during these years of misfortune and
who, together with the best of our nation, yearn for the hour when fortune
will smile on us again.

[Note 7. Herodotus (Book VII, 213-218) tells the story of how a Greek
traitor, Ephialtes, helped the Persian invaders at the Battle of
Thermopylae (480 B.C.) When the Persian King, Xerxes, had begun to
despair of being able tobreak through the Greek defence, Ephialtes came
to him and, on being promiseda definite payment, told the King of a
pathway over the shoulder of the mountainto the Greek end of the Pass.
The bargain being clinched, Ephialtes led adetachment of the Persian
troops under General Hydarnes over the mountainpathway. Thus taken in
the rear, the Greek defenders, under Leonidas, King of Sparta, had to
fight in two opposite directions within the narrow pass. Terrible
slaughter ensued and Leonidas fell in the thick of the fighting.

The bravery of Leonidas and the treason of Ephialtes impressed Hitler,
asit does almost every schoolboy. The incident is referred to again in
MEIN KAMPF (Chap. VIII, Vol. I), where Hitler compares the German troops
thatfell in France and Flanders to the Greeks at Thermopylae, the
treachery of Ephialtes being suggested as the prototype of the defeatist
policy of the German politicians towards the end of the Great War.]

If it be objected that here we are concerned not with the petty problems
of everyday life but principally with fundamental truths and questions
of dogma, the only way of answering that objection is to ask a question:

Do you feel that Providence has called you to proclaim the Truth to the
world? If so, then go and do it. But you ought to have the courage to do
it directly and not use some political party as your mouthpiece; for in
this way you shirk your vocation. In the place of something that now
exists and is bad put something else that is better and will last into
the future.

If you lack the requisite courage or if you yourself do not know clearly
what your better substitute ought to be, leave the whole thing alone.
But, whatever happens, do not try to reach the goal by the roundabout
way of a political party if you are not brave enough to fight with your
visor lifted.

Political parties have no right to meddle in religious questions except
when these relate to something that is alien to the national well-being
and thus calculated to undermine racial customs and morals.

If some ecclesiastical dignitaries should misuse religious ceremonies or
religious teaching to injure their own nation their opponents ought
never to take the same road and fight them with the same weapons.

To a political leader the religious teachings and practices of his
people should be sacred and inviolable. Otherwise he should not be a
statesman but a reformer, if he has the necessary qualities for such a
mission.

Any other line of conduct will lead to disaster, especially in Germany.

In studying the Pan-German Movement and its conflict with Rome I was
then firmly persuaded, and especially in the course of later years, that
by their failure to understand the importance of the social problem the
Pan-Germanists lost the support of the broad masses, who are the
indispensable combatants in such a movement. By entering Parliament the
Pan-German leaders deprived themselves of the great driving force which
resides in the masses and at the same time they laid on their own
shoulders all the defects of the parliamentary institution. Their
struggle against the Church made their position impossible in numerous
circles of the lower and middle class, while at the same time it robbed
them of innumerable high-class elements--some of the best indeed that
the nation possessed. The practical outcome of the Austrian Kulturkampf
was negative.

Although they succeeded in winning 100,000 members away from the Church,
that did not do much harm to the latter. The Church did not really need
to shed any tears over these lost sheep, for it lost only those who had
for a long time ceased to belong to it in their inner hearts. The
difference between this new reformation and the great Reformation was
that in the historic epoch of the great Reformation some of the best
members left the Church because of religious convictions, whereas in
this new reformation only those left who had been indifferent before and
who were now influenced by political considerations. From the political
point of view alone the result was as ridiculous as it was deplorable.

Once again a political movement which had promised so much for the
German nation collapsed, because it was not conducted in a spirit of
unflinching adherence to naked reality, but lost itself in fields where
it was bound to get broken up.

The Pan-German Movement would never have made this mistake if it had
properly understood the PSYCHE of the broad masses. If the leaders had
known that, for psychological reasons alone, it is not expedient to
place two or more sets of adversaries before the masses--since that
leads to a complete splitting up of their fighting strength--they would
have concentrated the full and undivided force of their attack against a
single adversary. Nothing in the policy of a political party is so
fraught with danger as to allow its decisions to be directed by people
who want to have their fingers in every pie though they do not know how
to cook the simplest dish.

But even though there is much that can really be said against the
various religious denominations, political leaders must not forget that
the experience of history teaches us that no purely political party in
similar circumstances ever succeeded in bringing about a religious
reformation. One does not study history for the purpose of forgetting or
mistrusting its lessons afterwards, when the time comes to apply these
lessons in practice. It would be a mistake to believe that in this
particular case things were different, so that the eternal truths of
history were no longer applicable. One learns history in order to be
able to apply its lessons to the present time and whoever fails to do
this cannot pretend to be a political leader. In reality he is quite a
superficial person or, as is mostly the case, a conceited simpleton
whose good intentions cannot make up for his incompetence in practical
affairs.

The art of leadership, as displayed by really great popular leaders in
all ages, consists in consolidating the attention of the people against
a single adversary and taking care that nothing will split up that
attention into sections. The more the militant energies of the people
are directed towards one objective the more will new recruits join the
movement, attracted by the magnetism of its unified action, and thus the
striking power will be all the more enhanced. The leader of genius must
have the ability to make different opponents appear as if they belonged
to the one category; for weak and wavering natures among a leader's
following may easily begin to be dubious about the justice of their own
cause if they have to face different enemies.

As soon as the vacillating masses find themselves facing an opposition
that is made up of different groups of enemies their sense of
objectivity will be aroused and they will ask how is it that all the
others can be in the wrong and they themselves, and their movement,
alone in the right.

Such a feeling would be the first step towards a paralysis of their
fighting vigour. Where there are various enemies who are split up into
divergent groups it will be necessary to block them all together as
forming one solid front, so that the mass of followers in a popular
movement may see only one common enemy against whom they have to fight.
Such uniformity intensifies their belief in the justice of their own
cause and strengthens their feeling of hostility towards the opponent.

The Pan-German Movement was unsuccessful because the leaders did not
grasp the significance of that truth. They saw the goal clearly and
their intentions were right; but they took the wrong road. Their action
may be compared to that of an Alpine climber who never loses sight of
the peak he wants to reach, who has set out with the greatest
determination and energy, but pays no attention to the road beneath his
feet. With his eye always fixed firmly on the goal he does not think
over or notice the nature of the ascent and finally he fails.

The manner in which the great rival of the Pan-German Party set out to
attain its goal was quite different. The way it took was well and
shrewdly chosen; but it did not have a clear vision of the goal. In
almost all the questions where the Pan-German Movement failed, the
policy of the Christian-Socialist Party was correct and systematic.

They assessed the importance of the masses correctly, and thus they
gained the support of large numbers of the popular masses by emphasizing
the social character of the Movement from the very start. By directing
their appeal especially to the lower middle class and the artisans, they
gained adherents who were faithful, persevering and self-sacrificing.
The Christian-Socialist leaders took care to avoid all controversy with
the institutions of religion and thus they secured the support of that
mighty organization, the Catholic Church. Those leaders recognized the
value of propaganda on a large scale and they were veritable virtuosos
in working up the spiritual instincts of the broad masses of their
adherents.

The failure of this Party to carry into effect the dream of saving
Austria from dissolution must be attributed to two main defects in the
means they employed and also the lack of a clear perception of the ends
they wished to reach.

The anti-Semitism of the Christian-Socialists was based on religious
instead of racial principles. The reason for this mistake gave rise to
the second error also.

The founders of the Christian-Socialist Party were of the opinion that
they could not base their position on the racial principle if they
wished to save Austria, because they felt that a general disintegration
of the State might quickly result from the adoption of such a policy. In
the opinion of the Party chiefs the situation in Vienna demanded that
all factors which tended to estrange the nationalities from one another
should be carefully avoided and that all factors making for unity should
be encouraged.

At that time Vienna was so honeycombed with foreign elements, especially
the Czechs, that the greatest amount of tolerance was necessary if these
elements were to be enlisted in the ranks of any party that was not
anti-German on principle. If Austria was to be saved those elements were
indispensable. And so attempts were made to win the support of the small
traders, a great number of whom were Czechs, by combating the liberalism
of the Manchester School; and they believed that by adopting this
attitude they had found a slogan against Jewry which, because of its
religious implications, would unite all the different nationalities
which made up the population of the old Austria.

It was obvious, however, that this kind of anti-Semitism did not upset
the Jews very much, simply because it had a purely religious foundation.
If the worst came to the worst a few drops of baptismal water would
settle the matter, hereupon the Jew could still carry on his business
safely and at the same time retain his Jewish nationality.

On such superficial grounds it was impossible to deal with the whole
problem in an earnest and rational way. The consequence was that many
people could not understand this kind of anti-Semitism and therefore
refused to take part in it.

The attractive force of the idea was thus restricted exclusively to
narrow-minded circles, because the leaders failed to go beyond the mere
emotional appeal and did not ground their position on a truly rational
basis. The intellectuals were opposed to such a policy on principle. It
looked more and more as if the whole movement was a new attempt to
proselytize the Jews, or, on the other hand, as if it were merely
organized from the wish to compete with other contemporary movements.
Thus the struggle lost all traces of having been organized for a
spiritual and sublime mission. Indeed, it seemed to some people--and
these were by no means worthless elements--to be immoral and
reprehensible. The movement failed to awaken a belief that here there
was a problem of vital importance for the whole of humanity and on the
solution of which the destiny of the whole Gentile world depended.

Through this shilly-shally way of dealing with the problem the
anti-Semitism of the Christian-Socialists turned out to be quite
ineffective.

It was anti-Semitic only in outward appearance. And this was worse than
if it had made no pretences at all to anti-Semitism; for the pretence
gave rise to a false sense of security among people who believed that
the enemy had been taken by the ears; but, as a matter of fact, the
people themselves were being led by the nose.

The Jew readily adjusted himself to this form of anti-Semitism and found
its continuance more profitable to him than its abolition would be.

This whole movement led to great sacrifices being made for the sake of
that State which was composed of many heterogeneous nationalities; but
much greater sacrifices had to be made by the trustees of the German
element.

One did not dare to be 'nationalist', even in Vienna, lest the ground
should fall away from under one's feet. It was hoped that the Habsburg
State might be saved by a silent evasion of the nationalist question;
but this policy led that State to ruin. The same policy also led to the
collapse of Christian Socialism, for thus the Movement was deprived of
the only source of energy from which a political party can draw the
necessary driving force.

During those years I carefully followed the two movements and observed
how they developed, one because my heart was with it and the other
because of my admiration for that remarkable man who then appeared to me
as a bitter symbol of the whole German population in Austria.

When the imposing funeral CORTÈGE of the dead Burgomaster wound its way
from the City Hall towards the Ring Strasse I stood among the hundreds
of thousands who watched the solemn procession pass by. As I stood there
I felt deeply moved, and my instinct clearly told me that the work of
this man was all in vain, because a sinister Fate was inexorably leading
this State to its downfall. If Dr. Karl Lueger had lived in Germany he
would have been ranked among the great leaders of our people. It was a
misfortune for his work and for himseif that he had to live in this
impossible State.

When he died the fire had already been enkindled in the Balkans and was
spreading month by month. Fate had been merciful in sparing him the
sight of what, even to the last, he had hoped to prevent.

I endeavoured to analyse the cause which rendered one of those movements
futile and wrecked the progress of the other. The result of this
investigation was the profound conviction that, apart from the inherent
impossibility of consolidating the position of the State in the old
Austria, the two parties made the following fatal mistake:

The Pan-German Party was perfectly right in its fundamental ideas
regarding the aim of the Movement, which was to bring about a German
restoration, but it was unfortunate in its choice of means. It was
nationalist, but unfortunately it paid too little heed to the social
problem, and thus it failed to gain the support of the masses. Its
anti-Jewish policy, however, was grounded on a correct perception of the
significance of the racial problem and not on religious principles. But
it was mistaken in its assessment of facts and adopted the wrong tactics
when it made war against one of the religious denominations.

The Christian-Socialist Movement had only a vague concept of a German
revival as part of its object, but it was intelligent and fortunate in
the choice of means to carry out its policy as a Party. The
Christian-Socialists grasped the significance of the social question;
but they adopted the wrong principles in their struggle against Jewry,
and they utterly failed to appreciate the value of the national idea as
a source of political energy.

If the Christian-Socialist Party, together with its shrewd judgment in
regard to the worth of the popular masses, had only judged rightly also
on the importance of the racial problem--which was properly grasped by
the Pan-German Movement--and if this party had been really nationalist;
or if the Pan-German leaders, on the other hand, in addition to their
correct judgment of the Jewish problem and of the national idea, had
adopted the practical wisdom of the Christian-Socialist Party, and
particularly their attitude towards Socialism--then a movement would
have developed which, in my opinion, might at that time have
successfully altered the course of German destiny.

If things did not turn out thus, the fault lay for the most part in the
inherent nature of the Austrian State.

I did not find my own convictions upheld by any party then in existence,
and so I could not bring myself to enlist as a member in any of the
existing organizations or even lend a hand in their struggle. Even at
that time all those organizations seemed to me to be already jaded in
their energies and were therefore incapable of bringing about a national
revival of the German people in a really profound way, not merely
outwardly.

My inner aversion to the Habsburg State was increasing daily.

The more I paid special attention to questions of foreign policy, the
more the conviction grew upon me that this phantom State would surely
bring misfortune on the Germans. I realized more and more that the
destiny of the German nation could not be decisively influenced from
here but only in the German Empire itself. And this was true not only in
regard to general political questions but also--and in no less a
degree--in regard to the whole sphere of cultural life.

Here, also, in all matters affecting the national culture and art, the
Austrian State showed all the signs of senile decrepitude, or at least
it was ceasing to be of any consequence to the German nation, as far as
these matters were concerned. This was especially true of its
architecture. Modern architecture could not produce any great results in
Austria because, since the building of the Ring Strasse--at least in
Vienna--architectural activities had become insignificant when compared
with the progressive plans which were being thought out in Germany.

And so I came more and more to lead what may be called a twofold
existence. Reason and reality forced me to continue my harsh
apprenticeship in Austria, though I must now say that this
apprenticeship turned out fortunate in the end. But my heart was
elsewhere.

A feeling of discontent grew upon me and made me depressed the more I
came to realize the inside hollowness of this State and the
impossibility of saving it from collapse. At the same time I felt
perfectly certain that it would bring all kinds of misfortune to the
German people.

I was convinced that the Habsburg State would balk and hinder every
German who might show signs of real greatness, while at the same time it
would aid and abet every non-German activity.

This conglomerate spectacle of heterogeneous races which the capital of
the Dual Monarchy presented, this motley of Czechs, Poles, Hungarians,
Ruthenians, Serbs and Croats, etc., and always that bacillus which is
the solvent of human society, the Jew, here and there and
everywhere--the whole spectacle was repugnant to me. The gigantic city
seemed to be the incarnation of mongrel depravity.

The German language, which I had spoken from the time of my boyhood, was
the vernacular idiom of Lower Bavaria. I never forgot that particular
style of speech, and I could never learn the Viennese dialect. The
longer I lived in that city the stronger became my hatred for the
promiscuous swarm of foreign peoples which had begun to batten on that
old nursery ground of German culture. The idea that this State could
maintain its further existence for any considerable time was quite
absurd.

Austria was then like a piece of ancient mosaic in which the cohesive
cement had dried up and become old and friable. As long as such a work
of art remains untouched it may hold together and continue to exist; but
the moment some blow is struck on it then it breaks up into thousands of
fragments. Therefore it was now only a question of when the blow would
come.

Because my heart was always with the German Empire and not with the
Austrian Monarchy, the hour of Austria's dissolution as a State appeared
to me only as the first step towards the emancipation of the German
nation.

All these considerations intensified my yearning to depart for that
country for which my heart had been secretly longing since the days of
my youth.

I hoped that one day I might be able to make my mark as an architect and
that I could devote my talents to the service of my country on a large
or small scale, according to the will of Fate.

A final reason was that I longed to be among those who lived and worked
in that land from which the movement should be launched, the object of
which would be the fulfilment of what my heart had always longed for,
namely, the union of the country in which I was born with our common
fatherland, the German Empire.

There are many who may not understand how such a yearning can be so
strong; but I appeal especially to two groups of people. The first
includes all those who are still denied the happiness I have spoken of,
and the second embraces those who once enjoyed that happiness but had it
torn from them by a harsh fate. I turn to all those who have been torn
from their motherland and who have to struggle for the preservation of
their most sacred patrimony, their native language, persecuted and
harried because of their loyalty and love for the homeland, yearning
sadly for the hour when they will be allowed to return to the bosom of
their father's household. To these I address my words, and I know that
they will understand.

Only he who has experienced in his own inner life what it means to be
German and yet to be denied the right of belonging to his fatherland can
appreciate the profound nostalgia which that enforced exile causes. It
is a perpetual heartache, and there is no place for joy and contentment
until the doors of paternal home are thrown open and all those through
whose veins kindred blood is flowing will find peace and rest in their
common REICH.

Vienna was a hard school for me; but it taught me the most profound
lessons of my life. I was scarcely more than a boy when I came to live
there, and when I left it I had grown to be a man of a grave and pensive
nature. In Vienna I acquired the foundations of a WELTANSCHAUUNG in
general and developed a faculty for analysing political questions in
particular. That WELTANSCHAUUNG and the political ideas then formed
have never been abandoned, though they were expanded later on in some
directions. It is only now that I can fully appreciate how valuable
those years of apprenticeship were for me.

That is why I have given a detailed account of this period. There, in
Vienna, stark reality taught me the truths that now form the fundamental
principles of the Party which within the course of five years has grown
from modest beginnings to a great mass movement. I do not know what my
attitude towards Jewry, Social-Democracy, or rather Marxism in general,
to the social problem, etc., would be to-day if I had not acquired a
stock of personal beliefs at such an early age, by dint of hard study
and under the duress of Fate.

For, although the misfortunes of the Fatherland may have stimulated
thousands and thousands to ponder over the inner causes of the collapse,
that could not lead to such a thorough knowledge and deep insight as a
man may develop who has fought a hard struggle for many years so that he
might be master of his own fate.




CHAPTER IV



MUNICH


At last I came to Munich, in the spring of 1912.

The city itself was as familiar to me as if I had lived for years within
its walls.

This was because my studies in architecture had been constantly turning
my attention to the metropolis of German art. One must know Munich if
one would know Germany, and it is impossible to acquire a knowledge of
German art without seeing Munich.

All things considered, this pre-war sojourn was by far the happiest and
most contented time of my life. My earnings were very slender; but after
all I did not live for the sake of painting. I painted in order to get
the bare necessities of existence while I continued my studies. I was
firmly convinced that I should finally succeed in reaching the goal I
had marked out for myself. And this conviction alone was strong enough
to enable me to bear the petty hardships of everyday life without
worrying very much about them.

Moreover, almost from the very first moment of my sojourn there I came
to love that city more than any other place known to me. A German city!
I said to myself. How different to Vienna. It was with a feeling of
disgust that my imagination reverted to that Babylon of races. Another
pleasant feature here was the way the people spoke German, which was
much nearer my own way of speaking than the Viennese idiom. The Munich
idiom recalled the days of my youth, especially when I spoke with those
who had come to Munich from Lower Bavaria. There were a thousand or more
things which I inwardly loved or which I came to love during the course
of my stay. But what attracted me most was the marvellous wedlock of
native folk-energy with the fine artistic spirit of the city, that
unique harmony from the Hofbräuhaus to the Odeon, from the October
Festival to the PINAKOTHEK, etc. The reason why my heart's strings are
entwined around this city as around no other spot in this world is
probably because Munich is and will remain inseparably connected with
the development of my own career; and the fact that from the beginning
of my visit I felt inwardly happy and contented is to be attributed to
the charm of the marvellous Wittelsbach Capital, which has attracted
probably everybody who is blessed with a feeling for beauty instead of
commercial instincts.

Apart from my professional work, I was most interested in the study of
current political events, particularly those which were connected with
foreign relations. I approached these by way of the German policy of
alliances which, ever since my Austrian days, I had considered to be an
utterly mistaken one. But in Vienna I had not yet seen quite clearly how
far the German Empire had gone in the process of' self-delusion. In
Vienna I was inclined to assume, or probably I persuaded myself to do so
in order to excuse the German mistake, that possibly the authorities in
Berlin knew how weak and unreliable their ally would prove to be when
brought face to face with realities, but that, for more or less
mysterious reasons, they refrained from allowing their opinions on this
point to be known in public. Their idea was that they should support the
policy of alliances which Bismarck had initiated and the sudden
discontinuance of which might be undesirable, if for no other reason
than that it might arouse those foreign countries which were lying in
wait for their chance or might alarm the Philistines at home.

But my contact with the people soon taught me, to my horror, that my
assumptions were wrong. I was amazed to find everywhere, even in circles
otherwise well informed, that nobody had the slightest intimation of the
real character of the Habsburg Monarchy. Among the common people in
particular there was a prevalent illusion that the Austrian ally was a
Power which would have to be seriously reckoned with and would rally its
man-power in the hour of need. The mass of the people continued to look
upon the Dual Monarchy as a 'German State' and believed that it could be
relied upon. They assumed that its strength could be measured by the
millions of its subjects, as was the case in Germany. First of all, they
did not realize that Austria had ceased to be a German State and,
secondly, that the conditions prevailing within the Austrian Empire were
steadily pushing it headlong to the brink of disaster.

At that time I knew the condition of affairs in the Austrian State
better than the professional diplomats. Blindfolded, as nearly always,
these diplomats stumbled along on their way to disaster. The opinions
prevailing among the bulk of the people reflected only what had been
drummed into them from official quarters above. And these higher
authorities grovelled before the 'Ally', as the people of old bowed down
before the Golden Calf. They probably thought that by being polite and
amiable they might balance the lack of honesty on the other side. Thus
they took every declaration at its full face value.

Even while in Vienna I used to be annoyed again and again by the
discrepancy between the speeches of the official statesmen and the
contents of the Viennese Press. And yet Vienna was still a German city,
at least as far as appearances went. But one encountered an utterly
different state of things on leaving Vienna, or rather German-Austria,
and coming into the Slav provinces. It needed only a glance at the
Prague newspapers in order to see how the whole exalted hocus-pocus of
the Triple Alliance was judged from there. In Prague there was nothing
but gibes and sneers for that masterpiece of statesmanship. Even in the
piping times of peace, when the two emperors kissed each other on the
brow in token of friendship, those papers did not cloak their belief
that the alliance would be liquidated the moment a first attempt was
made to bring it down from the shimmering glory of a Nibelungen ideal to
the plane of practical affairs.

Great indignation was aroused a few years later, when the alliances were
put to the first practical test. Italy not only withdrew from the Triple
Alliance, leaving the other two members to march by themselves. but she
even joined their enemies. That anybody should believe even for a moment
in the possibility of such a miracle as that of Italy fighting on the
same side as Austria would be simply incredible to anyone who did not
suffer from the blindness of official diplomacy. And that was just how
people felt in Austria also.

In Austria only the Habsburgs and the German-Austrians supported the
alliance. The Habsburgs did so from shrewd calculation of their own
interests and from necessity. The Germans did it out of good faith and
political ignorance. They acted in good faith inasmuch as they believed
that by establishing the Triple Alliance they were doing a great service
to the German Empire and were thus helping to strengthen it and
consolidate its defence. They showed their political ignorance, however,
in holding such ideas, because, instead of helping the German Empire
they really chained it to a moribund State which might bring its
associate into the grave with itself; and, above all, by championing
this alliance they fell more and more a prey to the Habsburg policy of
de-Germanization. For the alliance gave the Habsburgs good grounds for
believing that the German Empire would not interfere in their domestic
affairs and thus they were in a position to carry into effect, with more
ease and less risk, their domestic policy of gradually eliminating the
German element. Not only could the 'objectiveness' of the German
Government be counted upon, and thus there need be no fear of protest
from that quarter, but one could always remind the German-Austrians of
the alliance and thus silence them in case they should ever object to
the reprehensible means that were being employed to establish a Slav
hegemony in the Dual Monarchy.

What could the German-Austrians do, when the people of the German Empire
itself had openly proclaimed their trust and confidence in the Habsburg
régime?

Should they resist, and thus be branded openly before their kinsfolk in
the REICH as traitors to their own national interests? They, who for so
many decades had sacrificed so much for the sake of their German
tradition!

Once the influence of the Germans in Austria had been wiped out, what
then would be the value of the alliance? If the Triple Alliance were to
be advantageous to Germany, was it not a necessary condition that the
predominance of the German element in Austria should be maintained? Or
did anyone really believe that Germany could continue to be the ally of
a Habsburg Empire under the hegemony of the Slavs?

The official attitude of German diplomacy, as well as that of the
general public towards internal problems affecting the Austrian
nationalities was not merely stupid, it was insane. On the alliance, as
on a solid foundation, they grounded the security and future existence
of a nation of seventy millions, while at the same time they allowed
their partner to continue his policy of undermining the sole foundation
of that alliance methodically and resolutely, from year to year. A day
must come when nothing but a formal contract with Viennese diplomats
would be left. The alliance itself, as an effective support, would be
lost to Germany.

As far as concerned Italy, such had been the case from the outset.

If people in Germany had studied history and the psychology of nations a
little more carefully not one of them could have believed for a single
hour that the Quirinal and the Viennese Hofburg could ever stand
shoulder to shoulder on a common battle front. Italy would have exploded
like a volcano if any Italian government had dared to send a single
Italian soldier to fight for the Habsburg State. So fanatically hated
was this State that the Italians could stand in no other relation to it
on a battle front except as enemies. More than once in Vienna I have
witnessed explosions of the contempt and profound hatred which 'allied'
the Italian to the Austrian State. The crimes which the House of
Habsburg committed against Italian freedom and independence during
several centuries were too grave to be forgiven, even with the best of
goodwill. But this goodwill did not exist, either among the rank and
file of the population or in the government. Therefore for Italy there
were only two ways of co-existing with Austria--alliance or war. By
choosing the first it was possible to prepare leisurely for the second.

Especially since relations between Russia and Austria tended more and
more towards the arbitrament of war, the German policy of alliances was
as senseless as it was dangerous. Here was a classical instance which
demonstrated the lack of any broad or logical lines of thought.

But what was the reason for forming the alliance at all? It could not
have been other than the wish to secure the future of the REICH better
than if it were to depend exclusively on its own resources. But the
future of the REICH could not have meant anything else than the problem
of securing the means of existence for the German people.

The only questions therefore were the following: What form shall the
life of the nation assume in the near future--that is to say within such
a period as we can forecast? And by what means can the necessary
foundation and security be guaranteed for this development within the
framework of the general distribution of power among the European
nations? A clear analysis of the principles on which the foreign policy
of German statecraft were to be based should have led to the following
conclusions:

The annual increase of population in Germany amounts to almost 900,000
souls. The difficulties of providing for this army of new citizens must
grow from year to year and must finally lead to a catastrophe, unless
ways and means are found which will forestall the danger of misery and
hunger. There were four ways of providing against this terrible
calamity:

(1) It was possible to adopt the French example and artificially
restrict the number of births, thus avoiding an excess of population.

Under certain circumstances, in periods of distress or under bad
climatic condition, or if the soil yields too poor a return, Nature
herself tends to check the increase of population in some countries and
among some races, but by a method which is quite as ruthless as it is
wise. It does not impede the procreative faculty as such; but it does
impede the further existence of the offspring by submitting it to such
tests and privations that everything which is less strong or less
healthy is forced to retreat into the bosom of tile unknown. Whatever
survives these hardships of existence has been tested and tried a
thousandfold, hardened and renders fit to continue the process of
procreation; so that the same thorough selection will begin all over
again. By thus dealing brutally with the individual and recalling him
the very moment he shows that he is not fitted for the trials of life,
Nature preserves the strength of the race and the species and raises it
to the highest degree of efficiency.

The decrease in numbers therefore implies an increase of strength, as
far as the individual is concerned, and this finally means the
invigoration of the species.

But the case is different when man himself starts the process of
numerical restriction. Man is not carved from Nature's wood. He is made
of 'human' material. He knows more than the ruthless Queen of Wisdom. He
does not impede the preservation of the individual but prevents
procreation itself. To the individual, who always sees only himself and
not the race, this line of action seems more humane and just than the
opposite way. But, unfortunately, the consequences are also the
opposite.

By leaving the process of procreation unchecked and by submitting the
individual to the hardest preparatory tests in life, Nature selects the
best from an abundance of single elements and stamps them as fit to live
and carry on the conservation of the species. But man restricts the
procreative faculty and strives obstinately to keep alive at any cost
whatever has once been born. This correction of the Divine Will seems to
him to be wise and humane, and he rejoices at having trumped Nature's
card in one game at least and thus proved that she is not entirely
reliable. The dear little ape of an all-mighty father is delighted to
see and hear that he has succeeded in effecting a numerical restriction;
but he would be very displeased if told that this, his system, brings
about a degeneration in personal quality.

For as soon as the procreative faculty is thwarted and the number of
births diminished, the natural struggle for existence which allows only
healthy and strong individuals to survive is replaced by a sheer craze
to 'save' feeble and even diseased creatures at any cost. And thus the
seeds are sown for a human progeny which will become more and more
miserable from one generation to another, as long as Nature's will is
scorned.

But if that policy be carried out the final results must be that such a
nation will eventually terminate its own existence on this earth; for
though man may defy the eternal laws of procreation during a certain
period, vengeance will follow sooner or later. A stronger race will oust
that which has grown weak; for the vital urge, in its ultimate form,
will burst asunder all the absurd chains of this so-called humane
consideration for the individual and will replace it with the humanity
of Nature, which wipes out what is weak in order to give place to the
strong.

Any policy which aims at securing the existence of a nation by
restricting the birth-rate robs that nation of its future.

(2) A second solution is that of internal colonization. This is a
proposal which is frequently made in our own time and one hears it
lauded a good deal. It is a suggestion that is well-meant but it is
misunderstood by most people, so that it is the source of more mischief
than can be imagined.

It is certainly true that the productivity of the soil can be increased
within certain limits; but only within defined limits and not
indefinitely. By increasing the productive powers of the soil it will be
possible to balance the effect of a surplus birth-rate in Germany for a
certain period of time, without running any danger of hunger. But we
have to face the fact that the general standard of living is rising more
quickly than even the birth rate. The requirements of food and clothing
are becoming greater from year to year and are out of proportion to
those of our ancestors of, let us say, a hundred years ago. It would,
therefore, be a mistaken view that every increase in the productive
powers of the soil will supply the requisite conditions for an increase
in the population. No. That is true up to a certain point only, for at
least a portion of the increased produce of the soil will be consumed by
the margin of increased demands caused by the steady rise in the
standard of living. But even if these demands were to be curtailed to
the narrowest limits possible and if at the same time we were to use all
our available energies in the intenser cultivation, we should here reach
a definite limit which is conditioned by the inherent nature of the soil
itself. No matter how industriously we may labour we cannot increase
agricultural production beyond this limit. Therefore, though we may
postpone the evil hour of distress for a certain time, it will arrive at
last. The first phenomenon will be the recurrence of famine periods from
time to time, after bad harvests, etc. The intervals between these
famines will become shorter and shorter the more the population
increases; and, finally, the famine times will disappear only in those
rare years of plenty when the granaries are full. And a time will
ultimately come when even in those years of plenty there will not be
enough to go round; so that hunger will dog the footsteps of the nation.
Nature must now step in once more and select those who are to survive,
or else man will help himself by artificially preventing his own
increase, with all the fatal consequences for the race and the species
which have been already mentioned.

It may be objected here that, in one form or another, this future is in
store for all mankind and that the individual nation or race cannot
escape the general fate.

At first glance, that objection seems logical enough; but we have to
take the following into account:

The day will certainly come when the whole of mankind will be forced to
check the augmentation of the human species, because there will be no
further possibility of adjusting the productivity of the soil to the
perpetual increase in the population. Nature must then be allowed to use
her own methods or man may possibly take the task of regulation into his
own hands and establish the necessary equilibrium by the application of
better means than we have at our disposal to-day. But then it will be a
problem for mankind as a whole, whereas now only those races have to
suffer from want which no longer have the strength and daring to acquire
sufficient soil to fulfil their needs. For, as things stand to-day, vast
spaces still lie uncultivated all over the surface of the globe. Those
spaces are only waiting for the ploughshare. And it is quite certain
that Nature did not set those territories apart as the exclusive
pastures of any one nation or race to be held unutilized in reserve for
the future. Such land awaits the people who have the strength to acquire
it and the diligence to cultivate it.

Nature knows no political frontiers. She begins by establishing life on
this globe and then watches the free play of forces. Those who show the
greatest courage and industry are the children nearest to her heart and
they will be granted the sovereign right of existence.

If a nation confines itself to 'internal colonization' while other races
are perpetually increasing their territorial annexations all over the
globe, that nation will be forced to restrict the numerical growth of
its population at a time when the other nations are increasing theirs.
This situation must eventually arrive. It will arrive soon if the
territory which the nation has at its disposal be small. Now it is
unfortunately true that only too often the best nations--or, to speak
more exactly, the only really cultured nations, who at the same time are
the chief bearers of human progress--have decided, in their blind
pacifism, to refrain from the acquisition of new territory and to be
content with 'internal colonization.' But at the same time nations of
inferior quality succeed in getting hold of large spaces for
colonization all over the globe. The state of affairs which must result
from this contrast is the following:

Races which are culturally superior but less ruthless would be forced to
restrict their increase, because of insufficient territory to support
the population, while less civilized races could increase indefinitely,
owing to the vast territories at their disposal. In other words: should
that state of affairs continue, then the world will one day be possessed
by that portion of mankind which is culturally inferior but more active
and energetic.

A time will come, even though in the distant future, when there can be
only two alternatives: Either the world will be ruled according to our
modern concept of democracy, and then every decision will be in favour
of the numerically stronger races; or the world will be governed by the
law of natural distribution of power, and then those nations will be
victorious who are of more brutal will and are not the nations who have
practised self-denial.

Nobody can doubt that this world will one day be the scene of dreadful
struggles for existence on the part of mankind. In the end the instinct
of self-preservation alone will triumph. Before its consuming fire this
so-called humanitarianism, which connotes only a mixture of fatuous
timidity and self-conceit, will melt away as under the March sunshine.
Man has become great through perpetual struggle. In perpetual peace his
greatness must decline.

For us Germans, the slogan of 'internal colonization' is fatal, because
it encourages the belief that we have discovered a means which is in
accordance with our innate pacifism and which will enable us to work for
our livelihood in a half slumbering existence. Such a teaching, once it
were taken seriously by our people, would mean the end of all effort to
acquire for ourselves that place in the world which we deserve. If. the
average German were once convinced that by this measure he has the
chance of ensuring his livelihood and guaranteeing his future, any
attempt to take an active and profitable part in sustaining the vital
demands of his country would be out of the question. Should the nation
agree to such an attitude then any really useful foreign policy might be
looked upon as dead and buried, together with all hope for the future of
the German people.

Once we know what the consequences of this 'internal colonization'
theory would be we can no longer consider as a mere accident the fact
that among those who inculcate this quite pernicious mentality among our
people the Jew is always in the first line. He knows his softies only
too well not to know that they are ready to be the grateful victims of
every swindle which promises them a gold-block in the shape of a
discovery that will enable them to outwit Nature and thus render
superfluous the hard and inexorable struggle for existence; so that
finally they may become lords of the planet partly by sheer DOLCE FAR
NIENTE and partly by working when a pleasing opportunity arises.

It cannot be too strongly emphasised that any German 'internal
colonization' must first of all be considered as suited only for the
relief of social grievances. To carry out a system of internal
colonization, the most important preliminary measure would be to free
the soil from the grip of the speculator and assure that freedom. But
such a system could never suffice to assure the future of the nation
without the acquisition of new territory.

If we adopt a different plan we shall soon reach a point beyond which
the resources of our soil can no longer be exploited, and at the same
time we shall reach a point beyond which our man-power cannot develop.

In conclusion, the following must be said:

The fact that only up to a limited extent can internal colonization be
practised in a national territory which is of definitely small area and
the restriction of the procreative faculty which follows as a result of
such conditions--these two factors have a very unfavourable effect on
the military and political standing of a nation.

The extent of the national territory is a determining factor in the
external security of the nation. The larger the territory which a people
has at its disposal the stronger are the national defences of that
people. Military decisions are more quickly, more easily, more
completely and more effectively gained against a people occupying a
national territory which is restricted in area, than against States
which have extensive territories. Moreover, the magnitude of a national
territory is in itself a certain assurance that an outside Power will
not hastily risk the adventure of an invasion; for in that case the
struggle would have to be long and exhausting before victory could be
hoped for. The risk being so great. there would have to be extraordinary
reasons for such an aggressive adventure. Hence it is that the
territorial magnitude of a State furnishes a basis whereon national
liberty and independence can be maintained with relative ease; while, on
the contrary, a State whose territory is small offers a natural
temptation to the invader.

As a matter of fact, so-called national circles in the German REICH
rejected those first two possibilities of establishing a balance between
the constant numerical increase in the population and a national
territory which could not expand proportionately. But the reasons given
for that rejection were different from those which I have just
expounded. It was mainly on the basis of certain moral sentiments that
restriction of the birth-rate was objected to. Proposals for internal
colonization were rejected indignantly because it was suspected that
such a policy might mean an attack on the big landowners, and that this
attack might be the forerunner of a general assault against the
principle of private property as a whole. The form in which the latter
solution--internal colonization--was recommended justified the
misgivings of the big landowners.

But the form in which the colonization proposal was rejected was not
very clever, as regards the impression which such rejection might be
calculated to make on the mass of the people, and anyhow it did not go
to the root of the problem at all.

Only two further ways were left open in which work and bread could be
secured for the increasing population.

(3) It was possible to think of acquiring new territory on which a
certain portion of' the increasing population could be settled each
year; or else

(4) Our industry and commerce had to be organized in such a manner as to
secure an increase in the exports and thus be able to support our people
by the increased purchasing power accruing from the profits made on
foreign markets.

Therefore the problem was: A policy of territorial expansion or a
colonial and commercial policy. Both policies were taken into
consideration, examined, recommended and rejected, from various
standpoints, with the result that the second alternative was finally
adopted. The sounder alternative, however, was undoubtedly the first.

The principle of acquiring new territory, on which the surplus
population could be settled, has many advantages to recommend it,
especially if we take the future as well as the present into account.

In the first place, too much importance cannot be placed on the
necessity for adopting a policy which will make it possible to maintain
a healthy peasant class as the basis of the national community. Many of
our present evils have their origin exclusively in the disproportion
between the urban and rural portions of the population. A solid stock of
small and medium farmers has at all times been the best protection which
a nation could have against the social diseases that are prevalent
to-day. Moreover, that is the only solution which guarantees the daily
bread of a nation within the framework of its domestic national economy.
With this condition once guaranteed, industry and commerce would retire
from the unhealthy position of foremost importance which they hold
to-day and would take their due place within the general scheme of
national economy, adjusting the balance between demand and supply. Thus
industry and commerce would no longer constitute the basis of the
national subsistence, but would be auxiliary institutions. By fulfilling
their proper function, which is to adjust the balance between national
production and national consumption, they render the national
subsistence more or less independent of foreign countries and thus
assure the freedom and independence of the nation, especially at
critical junctures in its history.

Such a territorial policy, however, cannot find its fulfilment in the
Cameroons but almost exclusively here in Europe. One must calmly and
squarely face the truth that it certainly cannot be part of the
dispensation of Divine Providence to give a fifty times larger share of
the soil of this world to one nation than to another. In considering
this state of affairs to-day, one must not allow existing political
frontiers to distract attention from what ought to exist on principles
of strict justice. If this earth has sufficient room for all, then we
ought to have that share of the soil which is absolutely necessary for
our existence.

Of course people will not voluntarily make that accommodation. At this
point the right of self-preservation comes into effect. And when
attempts to settle the difficulty in an amicable way are rejected the
clenched hand must take by force that which was refused to the open hand
of friendship. If in the past our ancestors had based their political
decisions on similar pacifist nonsense as our present generation does,
we should not possess more than one-third of the national territory that
we possess to-day and probably there would be no German nation to worry
about its future in Europe. No. We owe the two Eastern Marks (Note 8) of
the Empire to the natural determination of our forefathers in their
struggle for existence, and thus it is to the same determined policy that
we owe the inner strength which is based on the extent of our political
and racial territories and which alone has made it possible for us to
exist up to now.

[Note 8. German Austria was the East Mark on the South and East Prussia
was the East Mark on the North.]

And there is still another reason why that solution would have been the
correct one:

Many contemporary European States are like pyramids standing on their
apexes. The European territory which these States possess is
ridiculously small when compared with the enormous overhead weight of
their colonies, foreign trade, etc. It may be said that they have the
apex in Europe and the base of the pyramid all over the world; quite
different from the United States of America, which has its base on the
American Continent and is in contact with the rest of the world only
through its apex. Out of that situation arises the incomparable inner
strength of the U.S.A. and the contrary situation is responsible for the
weakness of most of the colonial European Powers.

England cannot be suggested as an argument against this assertion,
though in glancing casually over the map of the British Empire one is
inclined easily to overlook the existence of a whole Anglo-Saxon world.
England's position cannot be compared with that of any other State in
Europe, since it forms a vast community of language and culture together
with the U.S.A.

Therefore the only possibility which Germany had of carrying a sound
territorial policy into effect was that of acquiring new territory in
Europe itself. Colonies cannot serve this purpose as long as they are
not suited for settlement by Europeans on a large scale. In the
nineteenth century it was no longer possible to acquire such colonies by
peaceful means. Therefore any attempt at such a colonial expansion would
have meant an enormous military struggle. Consequently it would have
been more practical to undertake that military struggle for new
territory in Europe rather than to wage war for the acquisition of
possessions abroad.

Such a decision naturally demanded that the nation's undivided energies
should be devoted to it. A policy of that kind which requires for its
fulfilment every ounce of available energy on the part of everybody
concerned, cannot be carried into effect by half-measures or in a
hesitating manner. The political leadership of the German Empire should
then have been directed exclusively to this goal. No political step
should have been taken in response to other considerations than this
task and the means of accomplishing it. Germany should have been alive
to the fact that such a goal could have been reached only by war, and
the prospect of war should have been faced with calm and collected
determination.

The whole system of alliances should have been envisaged and valued from
that standpoint. If new territory were to be acquired in Europe it must
have been mainly at Russia's cost, and once again the new German Empire
should have set out on its march along the same road as was formerly
trodden by the Teutonic Knights, this time to acquire soil for the
German plough by means of the German sword and thus provide the nation
with its daily bread.

For such a policy, however, there was only one possible ally in Europe.
That was England.

Only by alliance with England was it possible to safeguard the rear of
the new German crusade. The justification for undertaking such an
expedition was stronger than the justification which our forefathers had
for setting out on theirs. Not one of our pacifists refuses to eat the
bread made from the grain grown in the East; and yet the first plough
here was that called the 'Sword'.

No sacrifice should have been considered too great if it was a necessary
means of gaining England's friendship. Colonial and naval ambitions
should have been abandoned and attempts should not have been made to
compete against British industries.

Only a clear and definite policy could lead to such an achievement. Such
a policy would have demanded a renunciation of the endeavour to conquer
the world's markets, also a renunciation of colonial intentions and
naval power. All the means of power at the disposal of the State should
have been concentrated in the military forces on land. This policy would
have involved a period of temporary self-denial, for the sake of a great
and powerful future.

There was a time when England might have entered into negotiations with
us, on the grounds of that proposal. For England would have well
understood that the problems arising from the steady increase in
population were forcing Germany to look for a solution either in Europe
with the help of England or, without England, in some other part of the
world.

This outlook was probably the chief reason why London tried to draw
nearer to Germany about the turn of the century. For the first time in
Germany an attitude was then manifested which afterwards displayed
itself in a most tragic way. People then gave expression to an
unpleasant feeling that we might thus find ourselves obliged to pull
England's chestnuts out of the fire. As if an alliance could be based on
anything else than mutual give-and-take! And England would have become a
party to such a mutual bargain. British diplomats were still wise enough
to know that an equivalent must be forthcoming as a consideration for
any services rendered.

Let us suppose that in 1904 our German foreign policy was managed
astutely enough to enable us to take the part which Japan played. It is
not easy to measure the greatness of the results that might have accrued
to Germany from such a policy.

There would have been no world war. The blood which would have been shed
in 1904 would not have been a tenth of that shed from 1914 to 1918. And
what a position Germany would hold in the world to-day?

In any case the alliance with Austria was then an absurdity.

For this mummy of a State did not attach itself to Germany for the
purpose of carrying through a war, but rather to maintain a perpetual
state of peace which was meant to be exploited for the purpose of slowly
but persistently exterminating the German element in the Dual Monarchy.

Another reason for the impossible character of this alliance was that
nobody could expect such a State to take an active part in defending
German national interests, seeing that it did not have sufficient
strength and determination to put an end to the policy of
de-Germanization within its own frontiers. If Germany herself was not
moved by a sufficiently powerful national sentiment and was not
sufficiently ruthless to take away from that absurd Habsburg State the
right to decide the destinies of ten million inhabitants who were of the
same nationality as the Germans themselves, surely it was out of the
question to expect the Habsburg State to be a collaborating party in any
great and courageous German undertaking. The attitude of the old REICH
towards the Austrian question might have been taken as a test of its
stamina for the struggle where the destinies of the whole nation were at
stake.

In any case, the policy of oppression against the German population in
Austria should not have been allowed to be carried on and to grow
stronger from year to year; for the value of Austria as an ally could be
assured only by upholding the German element there. But that course was
not followed.

Nothing was dreaded so much as the possibility of an armed conflict; but
finally, and at a most unfavourable moment, the conflict had to be faced
and accepted. They thought to cut loose from the cords of destiny, but
destiny held them fast.

They dreamt of maintaining a world peace and woke up to find themselves
in a world war.

And that dream of peace was a most significant reason why the
above-mentioned third alternative for the future development of Germany
was not even taken into consideration. The fact was recognized that new
territory could be gained only in the East; but this meant that there
would be fighting ahead, whereas they wanted peace at any cost. The
slogan of German foreign policy at one time used to be: The use of all
possible means for the maintenance of the German nation. Now it was
changed to: Maintenance of world peace by all possible means. We know
what the result was. I shall resume the discussion of this point in
detail later on.

There remained still another alternative, which we may call the fourth.
This was: Industry and world trade, naval power and colonies.

Such a development might certainly have been attained more easily and
more rapidly. To colonize a territory is a slow process, often extending
over centuries. Yet this fact is the source of its inner strength, for
it is not through a sudden burst of enthusiasm that it can be put into
effect, but rather through a gradual and enduring process of growth
quite different from industrial progress, which can be urged on by
advertisement within a few years. The result thus achieved, however, is
not of lasting quality but something frail, like a soap-bubble. It is
much easier to build quickly than to carry through the tough task of
settling a territory with farmers and establishing farmsteads. But the
former is more quickly destroyed than the latter.

In adopting such a course Germany must have known that to follow it out
would necessarily mean war sooner or later. Only children could believe
that sweet and unctuous expressions of goodness and persistent avowals
of peaceful intentions could get them their bananas through this
'friendly competition between the nations', with the prospect of never
having to fight for them.

No. Once we had taken this road, England was bound to be our enemy at
some time or other to come. Of course it fitted in nicely with our
innocent assumptions, but still it was absurd to grow indignant at the
fact that a day came when the English took the liberty of opposing our
peaceful penetration with the brutality of violent egoists.

Naturally, we on our side would never have done such a thing.

If a European territorial policy against Russia could have been put into
practice only in case we had England as our ally, on the other hand a
colonial and world-trade policy could have been carried into effect only
against English interests and with the support of Russia. But then this
policy should have been adopted in full consciousness of all the
consequences it involved and, above all things, Austria should have been
discarded as quickly as possible.

At the turn of the century the alliance with Austria had become a
veritable absurdity from all points of view.

But nobody thought of forming an alliance with Russia against England,
just as nobody thought of making England an ally against Russia; for in
either case the final result would inevitably have meant war. And to
avoid war was the very reason why a commercial and industrial policy was
decided upon. It was believed that the peaceful conquest of the world by
commercial means provided a method which would permanently supplant the
policy of force. Occasionally, however, there were doubts about the
efficiency of this principle, especially when some quite
incomprehensible warnings came from England now and again. That was the
reason why the fleet was built. It was not for the purpose of attacking
or annihilating England but merely to defend the concept of world-peace,
mentioned above, and also to protect the principle of conquering the
world by 'peaceful' means. Therefore this fleet was kept within modest
limits, not only as regards the number and tonnage of the vessels but
also in regard to their armament, the idea being to furnish new proofs
of peaceful intentions.

The chatter about the peaceful conquest of the world by commercial means
was probably the most completely nonsensical stuff ever raised to the
dignity of a guiding principle in the policy of a State, This nonsense
became even more foolish when England was pointed out as a typical
example to prove how the thing could be put into practice. Our doctrinal
way of regarding history and our professorial ideas in that domain have
done irreparable harm and offer a striking 'proof' of how people 'learn'
history without understanding anything of it. As a matter of fact,
England ought to have been looked upon as a convincing argument against
the theory of the pacific conquest of the world by commercial means. No
nation prepared the way for its commercial conquests more brutally than
England did by means of the sword, and no other nation has defended such
conquests more ruthlessly. Is it not a characteristic quality of British
statecraft that it knows how to use political power in order to gain
economic advantages and, inversely, to turn economic conquests into
political power? What an astounding error it was to believe that England
would not have the courage to give its own blood for the purposes of its
own economic expansion! The fact that England did not possess a national
army proved nothing; for it is not the actual military structure of the
moment that matters but rather the will and determination to use
whatever military strength is available. England has always had the
armament which she needed. She always fought with those weapons which
were necessary for success. She sent mercenary troops, to fight as long
as mercenaries sufficed; but she never hesitated to draw heavily and
deeply from the best blood of the whole nation when victory could be
obtained only by such a sacrifice. And in every case the fighting
spirit, dogged determination, and use of brutal means in conducting
military operations have always remained the same.

But in Germany, through the medium of the schools, the Press and the
comic papers, an idea of the Englishman was gradually formed which was
bound eventually to lead to the worst kind of self-deception. This
absurdity slowly but persistently spread into every quarter of German
life. The result was an undervaluation for which we have had to pay a
heavy penalty. The delusion was so profound that the Englishman was
looked upon as a shrewd business man, but personally a coward even to an
incredible degree. Unfortunately our lofty teachers of professorial
history did not bring home to the minds of their pupils the truth that
it is not possible to build up such a mighty organization as the British
Empire by mere swindle and fraud. The few who called attention to that
truth were either ignored or silenced. I can vividly recall to mind the
astonished looks of my comrades when they found themselves personally
face to face for the first time with the Tommies in Flanders. After a
few days of fighting the consciousness slowly dawned on our soldiers
that those Scotsmen were not like the ones we had seen described and
caricatured in the comic papers and mentioned in the communiqués.

It was then that I formed my first ideas of the efficiency of various
forms of propaganda.

Such a falsification, however, served the purpose of those who had
fabricated it. This caricature of the Englishman, though false, could be
used to prove the possibility of conquering the world peacefully by
commercial means. Where the Englishman succeeded we should also succeed.
Our far greater honesty and our freedom from that specifically English
'perfidy' would be assets on our side. Thereby it was hoped that the
sympathy of the smaller nations and the confidence of the greater
nations could be gained more easily.

We did not realize that our honesty was an object of profound aversion
for other people because we ourselves believed in it. The rest of the
world looked on our behaviour as the manifestation of a shrewd
deceitfulness; but when the revolution came, then they were amazed at
the deeper insight it gave them into our mentality, sincere even beyond
the limits of stupidity.

Once we understand the part played by that absurd notion of conquering
the world by peaceful commercial means we can clearly understand how
that other absurdity, the Triple Alliance, came to exist. With what
State then could an alliance have been made? In alliance with Austria we
could not acquire new territory by military means, even in Europe. And
this very fact was the real reason for the inner weakness of the Triple
Alliance. A Bismarck could permit himself such a makeshift for the
necessities of the moment, but certainly not any of his bungling
successors, and least of all when the foundations no longer existed on
which Bismarck had formed the Triple Alliance. In Bismarck's time
Austria could still be looked upon as a German State; but the gradual
introduction of universal suffrage turned the country into a
parliamentary Babel, in which the German voice was scarcely audible.

From the viewpoint of racial policy, this alliance with Austria was
simply disastrous. A new Slavic Great Power was allowed to grow up close
to the frontiers of the German Empire. Later on this Power was bound to
adopt towards Germany an attitude different from that of Russia, for
example. The Alliance was thus bound to become more empty and more
feeble, because the only supporters of it were losing their influence
and were being systematically pushed out of the more important public
offices.

About the year 1900 the Alliance with Austria had already entered the
same phase as the Alliance between Austria and Italy.

Here also only one alternative was possible: Either to take the side of
the Habsburg Monarchy or to raise a protest against the oppression of
the German element in Austria. But, generally speaking, when one takes
such a course it is bound eventually to lead to open conflict.

From the psychological point of view also, the Triple decreases
according as such an alliance limits its object to the defence of the
STATUS QUO. But, on the other hand, an alliance will increase its
cohesive strength the more the parties concerned in it may hope to use
it as a means of reaching some practical goal of expansion. Here, as
everywhere else, strength does not lie in defence but in attack.

This truth was recognized in various quarters but, unfortunately, not by
the so-called elected representatives of the people. As early as 1912
Ludendorff, who was then Colonel and an Officer of the General Staff,
pointed out these weak features of the Alliance in a memorandum which he
then drew up. But of course the 'statesmen' did not attach any
importance or value to that document. In general it would seem as if
reason were a faculty that is active only in the case of ordinary
mortals but that it is entirely absent when we come to deal with that
branch of the species known as 'diplomats'.

It was lucky for Germany that the war of 1914 broke out with Austria as
its direct cause, for thus the Habsburgs were compelled to participate.
Had the origin of the War been otherwise, Germany would have been left
to her own resources. The Habsburg State would never have been ready or
willing to take part in a war for the origin of which Germany was
responsible. What was the object of so much obloquy later in the case of
Italy's decision would have taken place, only earlier, in the case of
Austria. In other words, if Germany had been forced to go to war for
some reason of its own, Austria would have remained 'neutral' in order
to safeguard the State against a revolution which might begin
immediately after the war had started. The Slav element would have
preferred to smash up the Dual Monarchy in 1914 rather than permit it to
come to the assistance of Germany. But at that time there were only a
few who understood all the dangers and aggravations which resulted from
the alliance with the Danubian Monarchy.

In the first place, Austria had too many enemies who were eagerly
looking forward to obtain the heritage of that decrepit State, so that
these people gradually developed a certain animosity against Germany,
because Germany was an obstacle to their desires inasmuch as it kept the
Dual Monarchy from falling to pieces, a consummation that was hoped for
and yearned for on all sides. The conviction developed that Vienna could
be reached only by passing through Berlin.

In the second place, by adopting this policy Germany lost its best and
most promising chances of other alliances. In place of these
possibilities one now observed a growing tension in the relations with
Russia and even with Italy. And this in spite of the fact that the
general attitude in Rome was just as favourable to Germany as it was
hostile to Austria, a hostility which lay dormant in the individual
Italian and broke out violently on occasion.

Since a commercial and industrial policy had been adopted, no motive was
left for waging war against Russia. Only the enemies of the two
countries, Germany and Russia, could have an active interest in such a
war under these circumstances. As a matter of fact, it was only the Jews
and the Marxists who tried to stir up bad blood between the two States.

In the third place, the Alliance constituted a permanent danger to
German security; for any great Power that was hostile to Bismarck's
Empire could mobilize a whole lot of other States in a war against
Germany by promising them tempting spoils at the expense of the Austrian
ally.

It was possible to arouse the whole of Eastern Europe against Austria,
especially Russia, and Italy also. The world coalition which had
developed under the leadership of King Edward could never have become a
reality if Germany's ally, Austria, had not offered such an alluring
prospect of booty. It was this fact alone which made it possible to
combine so many heterogeneous States with divergent interests into one
common phalanx of attack. Every member could hope to enrich himself at
the expense of Austria if he joined in the general attack against
Germany. The fact that Turkey was also a tacit party to the unfortunate
alliance with Austria augmented Germany's peril to an extraordinary
degree.

Jewish international finance needed this bait of the Austrian heritage
in order to carry out its plans of ruining Germany; for Germany had not
yet surrendered to the general control which the international captains
of finance and trade exercised over the other States. Thus it was
possible to consolidate that coalition and make it strong enough and
brave enough, through the sheer weight of numbers, to join in bodily
conflict with the 'horned' Siegfried. (Note 9)

[Note 9. Carlyle explains the epithet thus: "First then, let no one from
the title GEHOERNTE (Horned, Behorned), fancy that our brave Siegfried,
who was the loveliest as well as the bravest of men, was actually
cornuted, and had hornson his brow, though like Michael Angelo's Moses; or
even that his skin, to which the epithet BEHORNED refers, was hard like a
crocodile's, and not softer than the softest shamey, for the truth is,
his Hornedness means only an Invulnerability, like that of Achilles..."]

The alliance with the Habsburg Monarchy, which I loathed while still in
Austria, was the subject of grave concern on my part and caused me to
meditate on it so persistently that finally I came to the conclusions
which I have mentioned above.

In the small circles which I frequented at that time I did not conceal
my conviction that this sinister agreement with a State doomed to
collapse would also bring catastrophe to Germany if she did not free
herself from it in time. I never for a moment wavered in that firm
conviction, even when the tempest of the World War seemed to have made
shipwreck of the reasoning faculty itself and had put blind enthusiasm
in its place, even among those circles where the coolest and hardest
objective thinking ought to have held sway. In the trenches I voiced and
upheld my own opinion whenever these problems came under discussion. I
held that to abandon the Habsburg Monarchy would involve no sacrifice if
Germany could thereby reduce the number of her own enemies; for the
millions of Germans who had donned the steel helmet had done so not to
fight for the maintenance of a corrupt dynasty but rather for the
salvation of the German people.

Before the War there were occasions on which it seemed that at least one
section of the German public had some slight misgivings about the
political wisdom of the alliance with Austria. From time to time German
conservative circles issued warnings against being over-confident about
the worth of that alliance; but, like every other reasonable suggestion
made at that time, it was thrown to the winds. The general conviction
was that the right measures had been adopted to 'conquer' the world,
that the success of these measures would be enormous and the sacrifices
negligible.

Once again the 'uninitiated' layman could do nothing but observe how the
'elect' were marching straight ahead towards disaster and enticing their
beloved people to follow them, as the rats followed the Pied Piper of
Hamelin.

If we would look for the deeper grounds which made it possible to foist
on the people this absurd notion of peacefully conquering the world
through commercial penetration, and how it was possible to put forward
the maintenance of world-peace as a national aim, we shall find that
these grounds lay in a general morbid condition that had pervaded the
whole body of German political thought.

The triumphant progress of technical science in Germany and the
marvellous development of German industries and commerce led us to
forget that a powerful State had been the necessary pre-requisite of
that success. On the contrary, certain circles went even so far as to
give vent to the theory that the State owed its very existence to these
phenomena; that it was, above all, an economic institution and should be
constituted in accordance with economic interests. Therefore, it was
held, the State was dependent on the economic structure. This condition
of things was looked upon and glorified as the soundest and most normal
arrangement.

Now, the truth is that the State in itself has nothing whatsoever to do
with any definite economic concept or a definite economic development.
It does not arise from a compact made between contracting parties,
within a certain delimited territory, for the purpose of serving
economic ends. The State is a community of living beings who have
kindred physical and spiritual natures, organized for the purpose of
assuring the conservation of their own kind and to help towards
fulfilling those ends which Providence has assigned to that particular
race or racial branch. Therein, and therein alone, lie the purpose and
meaning of a State. Economic activity is one of the many auxiliary means
which are necessary for the attainment of those aims. But economic
activity is never the origin or purpose of a State, except where a State
has been originally founded on a false and unnatural basis. And this
alone explains why a State as such does not necessarily need a certain
delimited territory as a condition of its establishment. This condition
becomes a necessary pre-requisite only among those people who would
provide and assure subsistence for their kinsfolk through their own
industry, which means that they are ready to carry on the struggle for
existence by means of their own work. People who can sneak their way,
like parasites, into the human body politic and make others work for
them under various pretences can form a State without possessing any
definite delimited territory. This is chiefly applicable to that
parasitic nation which, particularly at the present time preys upon the
honest portion of mankind; I mean the Jews.

The Jewish State has never been delimited in space. It has been spread
all over the world, without any frontiers whatsoever, and has always
been constituted from the membership of one race exclusively. That is
why the Jews have always formed a State within the State. One of the
most ingenious tricks ever devised has been that of sailing the Jewish
ship-of-state under the flag of Religion and thus securing that
tolerance which Aryans are always ready to grant to different religious
faiths. But the Mosaic Law is really nothing else than the doctrine of
the preservation of the Jewish race. Therefore this Law takes in all
spheres of sociological, political and economic science which have a
bearing on the main end in view.

The instinct for the preservation of one's own species is the primary
cause that leads to the formation of human communities. Hence the State
is a racial organism, and not an economic organization. The difference
between the two is so great as to be incomprehensible to our
contemporary so-called 'statesmen'. That is why they like to believe
that the State may be constituted as an economic structure, whereas the
truth is that it has always resulted from the exercise of those
qualities which are part of the will to preserve the species and the
race. But these qualities always exist and operate through the heroic
virtues and have nothing to do with commercial egoism; for the
conservation of the species always presupposes that the individual is
ready to sacrifice himself. Such is the meaning of the poet's lines:

UND SETZET IHR NICHT DAS LEBEN EIN,
NIE WIRD EUCH DAS LEBEN GEWONNEN SEIN.

(AND IF YOU DO NOT STAKE YOUR LIFE,
YOU WILL NEVER WIN LIFE FOR YOURSELF.)

[Note 10. Lines quoted from the Song of the Curassiers in Schiller's
WALLENSTEIN.]

The sacrifice of the individual existence is necessary in order to
assure the conservation of the race. Hence it is that the most essential
condition for the establishment and maintenance of a State is a certain
feeling of solidarity, wounded in an identity of character and race and
in a resolute readiness to defend these at all costs. With people who
live on their own territory this will result in a development of the
heroic virtues; with a parasitic people it will develop the arts of
subterfuge and gross perfidy unless we admit that these characteristics
are innate and that the varying political forms through which the
parasitic race expresses itself are only the outward manifestations of
innate characteristics. At least in the beginning, the formation of a
State can result only from a manifestation of the heroic qualities I
have spoken of. And the people who fail in the struggle for existence,
that is to say those, who become vassals and are thereby condemned to
disappear entirely sooner or later, are those who do not display the
heroic virtues in the struggle, or those who fall victims to the perfidy
of the parasites. And even in this latter case the failure is not so
much due to lack of intellectual powers, but rather to a lack of courage
and determination. An attempt is made to conceal the real nature of this
failing by saying that it is the humane feeling.

The qualities which are employed for the foundation and preservation of
a State have accordingly little or nothing to do with the economic
situation. And this is conspicuously demonstrated by the fact that the
inner strength of a State only very rarely coincides with what is called
its economic expansion. On the contrary, there are numerous examples to
show that a period of economic prosperity indicates the approaching
decline of a State. If it were correct to attribute the foundation of
human communities to economic forces, then the power of the State as
such would be at its highest pitch during periods of economic
prosperity, and not vice versa.

It is specially difficult to understand how the belief that the State is
brought into being and preserved by economic forces could gain currency
in a country which has given proof of the opposite in every phase of its
history. The history of Prussia shows in a manner particularly clear and
distinct, that it is out of the moral virtues of the people and not from
their economic circumstances that a State is formed. It is only under
the protection of those virtues that economic activities can be
developed and the latter will continue to flourish until a time comes
when the creative political capacity declines. Therewith the economic
structure will also break down, a phenomenon which is now happening in
an alarming manner before our eyes. The material interest of mankind can
prosper only in the shade of the heroic virtues. The moment they become
the primary considerations of life they wreck the basis of their own
existence.

Whenever the political power of Germany was specially strong the
economic situation also improved. But whenever economic interests alone
occupied the foremost place in the life of the people, and thrust
transcendent ideals into the back.-ground, the State collapsed and
economic ruin followed readily.

If we consider the question of what those forces actually are which are
necessary to the creation and preservation of a State, we shall find
that they are: The capacity and readiness to sacrifice the individual to
the common welfare. That these qualities have nothing at all to do with
economics can be proved by referring to the simple fact that man does
not sacrifice himself for material interests. In other words, he will
die for an ideal but not for a business. The marvellous gift for public
psychology which the English have was never shown better than the way in
which they presented their case in the World War. We were fighting for
our bread; but the English declared that they were fighting for
'freedom', and not at all for their own freedom. Oh, no, but for the
freedom of the small nations. German people laughed at that effrontery
and were angered by it; but in doing so they showed how political
thought had declined among our so-called diplomats in Germany even
before the War. These diplomatists did not have the slightest notion of
what that force was which brought men to face death of their own free
will and determination.

As long as the German people, in the War of 1914, continued to believe
that they were fighting for ideals they stood firm. As soon as they were
told that they were fighting only for their daily bread they began to
give up the struggle.

Our clever 'statesmen' were greatly amazed at this change of feeling.
They never understood that as soon as man is called upon to struggle for
purely material causes he will avoid death as best he can; for death and
the enjoyment of the material fruits of a victory are quite incompatible
concepts. The frailest woman will become a heroine when the life of her
own child is at stake. And only the will to save the race and native
land or the State, which offers protection to the race, has in all ages
been the urge which has forced men to face the weapons of their enemies.

The following may be proclaimed as a truth that always holds good:

A State has never arisen from commercial causes for the purpose of
peacefully serving commercial ends; but States have always arisen from
the instinct to maintain the racial group, whether this instinct
manifest itself in the heroic sphere or in the sphere of cunning and
chicanery. In the first case we have the Aryan States, based on the
principles of work and cultural development. In the second case we have
the Jewish parasitic colonies. But as soon as economic interests begin
to predominate over the racial and cultural instincts in a people or a
State, these economic interests unloose the causes that lead to
subjugation and oppression.

The belief, which prevailed in Germany before the War, that the world
could be opened up and even conquered for Germany through a system of
peaceful commercial penetration and a colonial policy was a typical
symptom which indicated the decline of those real qualities whereby
States are created and preserved, and indicated also the decline of that
insight, will-power and practical determination which belong to those
qualities. The World War with its consequences, was the natural
liquidation of that decline.

To anyone who had not thought over the matter deeply, this attitude of
the German people--which was quite general--must have seemed an
insoluble enigma. After all, Germany herself was a magnificent example
of an empire that had been built up purely by a policy of power.
Prussia, which was the generative cell of the German Empire, had been
created by brilliant heroic deeds and not by a financial or commercial
compact. And the Empire itself was but the magnificent recompense for a
leadership that had been conducted on a policy of power and military
valour.

How then did it happen that the political instincts of this very same
German people became so degenerate? For it was not merely one isolated
phenomenon which pointed to this decadence, but morbid symptoms which
appeared in alarming numbers, now all over the body politic, or eating
into the body of the nation like a gangrenous ulcer. It seemed as if
some all-pervading poisonous fluid had been injected by some mysterious
hand into the bloodstream of this once heroic body, bringing about a
creeping paralysis that affected the reason and the elementary instinct
of self-preservation.

During the years 1912-1914 I used to ponder perpetually on those
problems which related to the policy of the Triple Alliance and the
economic policy then being pursued by the German Empire. Once again I
came to the conclusion that the only explanation of this enigma lay in
the operation of that force which I had already become acquainted with
in Vienna, though from a different angle of vision. The force to which I
refer was the Marxist teaching and WELTANSCHAUUNG and its organized
action throughout the nation.

For the second time in my life I plunged deep into the study of that
destructive teaching. This time, however, I was not urged by the study
of the question by the impressions and influences of my daily
environment, but directed rather by the observation of general phenomena
in the political life of Germany. In delving again into the theoretical
literature of this new world and endeavouring to get a clear view of the
possible consequences of its teaching, I compared the theoretical
principles of Marxism with the phenomena and happenings brought about by
its activities in the political, cultural, and economic spheres.

For the first time in my life I now turned my attention to the efforts
that were being made to subdue this universal pest.

I studied Bismarck's exceptional legislation in its original concept,
its operation and its results. Gradually I formed a basis for my own
opinions, which has proved as solid as a rock, so that never since have
I had to change my attitude towards the general problem. I also made a
further and more thorough analysis of the relations between Marxism and
Jewry.

During my sojourn in Vienna I used to look upon Germany as an
imperturbable colossus; but even then serious doubts and misgivings
would often disturb me. In my own mind and in my conversation with my
small circle of acquaintances I used to criticize Germany's foreign
policy and the incredibly superficial way, according to my thinking, in
which Marxism was dealt with, though it was then the most important
problem in Germany. I could not understand how they could stumble
blindfolded into the midst of this peril, the effects of which would be
momentous if the openly declared aims of Marxism could be put into
practice. Even as early as that time I warned people around me, just as
I am warning a wider audience now, against that soothing slogan of all
indolent and feckless nature: NOTHING CAN HAPPEN TO US. A similar mental
contagion had already destroyed a mighty empire. Can Germany escape the
operation of those laws to which all other human communities are
subject?

In the years 1913 and 1914 I expressed my opinion for the first time in
various circles, some of which are now members of the National Socialist
Movement, that the problem of how the future of the German nation can be
secured is the problem of how Marxism can be exterminated.

I considered the disastrous policy of the Triple Alliance as one of the
consequences resulting from the disintegrating effects of the Marxist
teaching; for the alarming feature was that this teaching was invisibly
corrupting the foundations of a healthy political and economic outlook.
Those who had been themselves contaminated frequently did not realise
that their aims and actions sprang from this WELTANSCHAUUNG, which they
otherwise openly repudiated.

Long before then the spiritual and moral decline of the German people
had set in, though those who were affected by the morbid decadence were
frequently unaware--as often happens--of the forces which were breaking
up their very existence. Sometimes they tried to cure the disease by
doctoring the symptoms, which were taken as the cause. But since nobody
recognized, or wanted to recognize, the real cause of the disease this
way of combating Marxism was no more effective than the application of
some quack's ointment.




CHAPTER V



THE WORLD WAR


During the boisterous years of my youth nothing used to damp my wild
spirits so much as to think that I was born at a time when the world had
manifestly decided not to erect any more temples of fame except in
honour of business people and State officials. The tempest of historical
achievements seemed to have permanently subsided, so much so that the
future appeared to be irrevocably delivered over to what was called
peaceful competition between the nations. This simply meant a system of
mutual exploitation by fraudulent means, the principle of resorting to
the use of force in self-defence being formally excluded. Individual
countries increasingly assumed the appearance of commercial
undertakings, grabbing territory and clients and concessions from each
other under any and every kind of pretext. And it was all staged to an
accompaniment of loud but innocuous shouting. This trend of affairs
seemed destined to develop steadily and permanently. Having the support
of public approbation, it seemed bound eventually to transform the world
into a mammoth department store. In the vestibule of this emporium there
would be rows of monumental busts which would confer immortality on
those profiteers who had proved themselves the shrewdest at their trade
and those administrative officials who had shown themselves the most
innocuous. The salesmen could be represented by the English and the
administrative functionaries by the Germans; whereas the Jews would be
sacrificed to the unprofitable calling of proprietorship, for they are
constantly avowing that they make no profits and are always being called
upon to 'pay out'. Moreover they have the advantage of being versed in
the foreign languages.

Why could I not have been born a hundred years ago? I used to ask
myself. Somewhere about the time of the Wars of Liberation, when a man
was still of some value even though he had no 'business'.

Thus I used to think it an ill-deserved stroke of bad luck that I had
arrived too late on this terrestrial globe, and I felt chagrined at the
idea that my life would have to run its course along peaceful and
orderly lines. As a boy I was anything but a pacifist and all attempts
to make me so turned out futile.

Then the Boer War came, like a glow of lightning on the far horizon. Day
after day I used to gaze intently at the newspapers and I almost
'devoured' the telegrams and COMMUNIQUES, overjoyed to think that I
could witness that heroic struggle, even though from so great a
distance.

When the Russo-Japanese War came I was older and better able to judge
for myself. For national reasons I then took the side of the Japanese in
our discussions. I looked upon the defeat of the Russians as a blow to
Austrian Slavism.

Many years had passed between that time and my arrival in Munich. I now
realized that what I formerly believed to be a morbid decadence was only
the lull before the storm. During my Vienna days the Balkans were
already in the grip of that sultry pause which presages the violent
storm. Here and there a flash of lightning could be occasionally seen;
but it rapidly disappeared in sinister gloom. Then the Balkan War broke
out; and therewith the first gusts of the forthcoming tornado swept
across a highly-strung Europe. In the supervening calm men felt the
atmosphere oppressive and foreboding, so much so that the sense of an
impending catastrophe became transformed into a feeling of impatient
expectance. They wished that Heaven would give free rein to the fate
which could now no longer be curbed. Then the first great bolt of
lightning struck the earth. The storm broke and the thunder of the
heavens intermingled with the roar of the cannons in the World War.

When the news came to Munich that the Archduke Franz Ferdinand had been
murdered, I had been at home all day and did not get the particulars of
how it happened. At first I feared that the shots may have been fired by
some German-Austrian students who had been aroused to a state of furious
indignation by the persistent pro-Slav activities of the Heir to the
Habsburg Throne and therefore wished to liberate the German population
from this internal enemy. It was quite easy to imagine what the result
of such a mistake would have been. It would have brought on a new wave
of persecution, the motives of which would have been 'justified' before
the whole world. But soon afterwards I heard the names of the presumed
assassins and also that they were known to be Serbs. I felt somewhat
dumbfounded in face of the inexorable vengeance which Destiny had
wrought. The greatest friend of the Slavs had fallen a victim to the
bullets of Slav patriots.

It is unjust to the Vienna government of that time to blame it now for
the form and tenor of the ultimatum which was then presented. In a
similar position and under similar circumstances, no other Power in the
world would have acted otherwise. On her southern frontiers Austria had
a relentless mortal foe who indulged in acts of provocation against the
Dual Monarchy at intervals which were becoming more and more frequent.
This persistent line of conduct would not have been relaxed until the
arrival of the opportune moment for the destruction of the Empire. In
Austria there was good reason to fear that, at the latest, this moment
would come with the death of the old Emperor. Once that had taken place,
it was quite possible that the Monarchy would not be able to offer any
serious resistance. For some years past the State had been so completely
identified with the personality of Francis Joseph that, in the eyes of
the great mass of the people, the death of this venerable
personification of the Empire would be tantamount to the death of the
Empire itself. Indeed it was one of the clever artifices of Slav policy
to foster the impression that the Austrian State owed its very existence
exclusively to the prodigies and rare talents of that monarch. This kind
of flattery was particularly welcomed at the Hofburg, all the more
because it had no relation whatsoever to the services actually rendered
by the Emperor. No effort whatsoever was made to locate the carefully
prepared sting which lay hidden in this glorifying praise. One fact
which was entirely overlooked, perhaps intentionally, was that the more
the Empire remained dependent on the so-called administrative talents of
'the wisest Monarch of all times', the more catastrophic would be the
situation when Fate came to knock at the door and demand its tribute.

Was it possible even to imagine the Austrian Empire without its
venerable ruler? Would not the tragedy which befell Maria Theresa be
repeated at once?

It is really unjust to the Vienna governmental circles to reproach them
with having instigated a war which might have been prevented. The war
was bound to come. Perhaps it might have been postponed for a year or
two at the most. But it had always been the misfortune of German, as
well as Austrian, diplomats that they endeavoured to put off the
inevitable day of reckoning, with the result that they were finally
compelled to deliver their blow at a most inopportune moment.

No. Those who did not wish this war ought to have had the courage to
take the consequences of the refusal upon themselves. Those consequences
must necessarily have meant the sacrifice of Austria. And even then war
would have come, not as a war in which all the nations would have been
banded against us but in the form of a dismemberment of the Habsburg
Monarchy. In that case we should have had to decide whether we should
come to the assistance of the Habsburg or stand aside as spectators,
with our arms folded, and thus allow Fate to run its course.

Just those who are loudest in their imprecations to-day and make a great
parade of wisdom in judging the causes of the war are the very same
people whose collaboration was the most fatal factor in steering towards
the war.

For several decades previously the German Social-Democrats had been
agitating in an underhand and knavish way for war against Russia;
whereas the German Centre Party, with religious ends in view, had worked
to make the Austrian State the chief centre and turning-point of German
policy. The consequences of this folly had now to be borne. What came
was bound to come and under no circumstances could it have been avoided.
The fault of the German Government lay in the fact that, merely for the
sake of preserving peace at all costs, it continued to miss the
occasions that were favourable for action, got entangled in an alliance
for the purpose of preserving the peace of the world, and thus finally
became the victim of a world coalition which opposed the German effort
for the maintenance of peace and was determined to bring about the world
war.

Had the Vienna Government of that time formulated its ultimatum in less
drastic terms, that would not have altered the situation at all: but
such a course might have aroused public indignation. For, in the eyes of
the great masses, the ultimatum was too moderate and certainly not
excessive or brutal. Those who would deny this to-day are either
simpletons with feeble memories or else deliberate falsehood-mongers.

The War of 1914 was certainly not forced on the masses; it was even
desired by the whole people.

There was a desire to bring the general feeling of uncertainty to an end
once and for all. And it is only in the light of this fact that we can
understand how more than two million German men and youths voluntarily
joined the colours, ready to shed the last drop of their blood for the
cause.

For me these hours came as a deliverance from the distress that had
weighed upon me during the days of my youth. I am not ashamed to
acknowledge to-day that I was carried away by the enthusiasm of the
moment and that I sank down upon my knees and thanked Heaven out of the
fullness of my heart for the favour of having been permitted to live in
such a time.

The fight for freedom had broken out on an unparalleled scale in the
history of the world. From the moment that Fate took the helm in hand
the conviction grew among the mass of the people that now it was not a
question of deciding the destinies of Austria or Serbia but that the
very existence of the German nation itself was at stake.

At last, after many years of blindness, the people saw clearly into the
future. Therefore, almost immediately after the gigantic struggle had
begun, an excessive enthusiasm was replaced by a more earnest and more
fitting undertone, because the exaltation of the popular spirit was not
a mere passing frenzy. It was only too necessary that the gravity of the
situation should be recognized. At that time there was, generally
speaking, not the slightest presentiment or conception of how long the
war might last. People dreamed of the soldiers being home by Christmas
and that then they would resume their daily work in peace.

Whatever mankind desires, that it will hope for and believe in. The
overwhelming majority of the people had long since grown weary of the
perpetual insecurity in the general condition of public affairs. Hence
it was only natural that no one believed that the Austro-Serbian
conflict could be shelved. Therefore they looked forward to a radical
settlement of accounts. I also belonged to the millions that desired
this.

The moment the news of the Sarajevo outrage reached Munich two ideas
came into my mind: First, that war was absolutely inevitable and,
second, that the Habsburg State would now be forced to honour its
signature to the alliance. For what I had feared most was that one day
Germany herself, perhaps as a result of the Alliance, would become
involved in a conflict the first direct cause of which did not affect
Austria. In such a contingency, I feared that the Austrian State, for
domestic political reasons, would find itself unable to decide in favour
of its ally. But now this danger was removed. The old State was
compelled to fight, whether it wished to do so or not.

My own attitude towards the conflict was equally simple and clear. I
believed that it was not a case of Austria fighting to get satisfaction
from Serbia but rather a case of Germany fighting for her own
existence--the German nation for its own to-be-or-not-to-be, for its
freedom and for its future. The work of Bismarck must now be carried on.
Young Germany must show itself worthy of the blood shed by our fathers
on so many heroic fields of battle, from Weissenburg to Sedan and Paris.
And if this struggle should bring us victory our people will again rank
foremost among the great nations. Only then could the German Empire
assert itself as the mighty champion of peace, without the necessity of
restricting the daily bread of its children for the sake of maintaining
the peace.

As a boy and as a young man, I often longed for the occasion to prove
that my national enthusiasm was not mere vapouring. Hurrahing sometimes
seemed to me to be a kind of sinful indulgence, though I could not give
any justification for that feeling; for, after all, who has the right to
shout that triumphant word if he has not won the right to it there where
there is no play-acting and where the hand of the Goddess of Destiny
puts the truth and sincerity of nations and men through her inexorable
test? Just as millions of others, I felt a proud joy in being permitted
to go through this test. I had so often sung DEUTSCHLAND ÜBER ALLES and
so often roared 'HEIL' that I now thought it was as a kind of
retro-active grace that I was granted the right of appearing before the
Court of Eternal Justice to testify to the truth of those sentiments.

One thing was clear to me from the very beginning, namely, that in the
event of war, which now seemed inevitable, my books would have to be
thrown aside forthwith. I also realized that my place would have to be
there where the inner voice of conscience called me.

I had left Austria principally for political reasons. What therefore
could be more rational than that I should put into practice the logical
consequences of my political opinions, now that the war had begun. I had
no desire to fight for the Habsburg cause, but I was prepared to die at
any time for my own kinsfolk and the Empire to which they really
belonged.

On August 3rd, 1914, I presented an urgent petition to His Majesty, King
Ludwig III, requesting to be allowed to serve in a Bavarian regiment. In
those days the Chancellery had its hands quite full and therefore I was
all the more pleased when I received the answer a day later, that my
request had been granted. I opened the document with trembling hands;
and no words of mine could now describe the satisfaction I felt on
reading that I was instructed to report to a Bavarian regiment. Within a
few days I was wearing that uniform which I was not to put oft again for
nearly six years.

For me, as for every German, the most memorable period of my life now
began. Face to face with that mighty struggle, all the past fell away
into oblivion. With a wistful pride I look back on those days,
especially because we are now approaching the tenth anniversary of that
memorable happening. I recall those early weeks of war when kind fortune
permitted me to take my place in that heroic struggle among the nations.

As the scene unfolds itself before my mind, it seems only like
yesterday. I see myself among my young comrades on our first parade
drill, and so on until at last the day came on which we were to leave
for the front.

In common with the others, I had one worry during those days. This was a
fear that we might arrive too late for the fighting at the front. Time
and again that thought disturbed me and every announcement of a
victorious engagement left a bitter taste, which increased as the news
of further victories arrived.

At long last the day came when we left Munich on war service. For the
first time in my life I saw the Rhine, as we journeyed westwards to
stand guard before that historic German river against its traditional
and grasping enemy. As the first soft rays of the morning sun broke
through the light mist and disclosed to us the Niederwald Statue, with
one accord the whole troop train broke into the strains of DIE WACHT AM
RHEIN. I then felt as if my heart could not contain its spirit.

And then followed a damp, cold night in Flanders. We marched in silence
throughout the night and as the morning sun came through the mist an
iron greeting suddenly burst above our heads. Shrapnel exploded in our
midst and spluttered in the damp ground. But before the smoke of the
explosion disappeared a wild 'Hurrah' was shouted from two hundred
throats, in response to this first greeting of Death. Then began the
whistling of bullets and the booming of cannons, the shouting and
singing of the combatants. With eyes straining feverishly, we pressed
forward, quicker and quicker, until we finally came to close-quarter
fighting, there beyond the beet-fields and the meadows. Soon the strains
of a song reached us from afar. Nearer and nearer, from company to
company, it came. And while Death began to make havoc in our ranks we
passed the song on to those beside us: DEUTSCHLAND, DEUTSCHLAND ÜBER
ALLES, ÜBER ALLES IN DER WELT.

After four days in the trenches we came back. Even our step was no
longer what it had been. Boys of seventeen looked now like grown men.
The rank and file of the List Regiment (Note 11) had not been properly
trained in the art of warfare, but they knew how to die like old soldiers.

[Note 11. The Second Infantry Bavarian Regiment, in which Hitler served
as a volunteer.]

That was the beginning. And thus we carried on from year to year. A
feeling of horror replaced the romantic fighting spirit. Enthusiasm
cooled down gradually and exuberant spirits were quelled by the fear of
the ever-present Death. A time came when there arose within each one of
us a conflict between the urge to self-preservation and the call of
duty. And I had to go through that conflict too. As Death sought its
prey everywhere and unrelentingly a nameless Something rebelled within
the weak body and tried to introduce itself under the name of Common
Sense; but in reality it was Fear, which had taken on this cloak in
order to impose itself on the individual. But the more the voice which
advised prudence increased its efforts and the more clear and persuasive
became its appeal, resistance became all the stronger; until finally the
internal strife was over and the call of duty was triumphant. Already in
the winter of 1915-16 I had come through that inner struggle. The will
had asserted its incontestable mastery. Whereas in the early days I went
into the fight with a cheer and a laugh, I was now habitually calm and
resolute. And that frame of mind endured. Fate might now put me through
the final test without my nerves or reason giving way. The young
volunteer had become an old soldier.

This same transformation took place throughout the whole army. Constant
fighting had aged and toughened it and hardened it, so that it stood
firm and dauntless against every assault.

Only now was it possible to judge that army. After two and three years
of continuous fighting, having been thrown into one battle after
another, standing up stoutly against superior numbers and superior
armament, suffering hunger and privation, the time had come when one
could assess the value of that singular fighting force.

For a thousand years to come nobody will dare to speak of heroism
without recalling the German Army of the World War. And then from the
dim past will emerge the immortal vision of those solid ranks of steel
helmets that never flinched and never faltered. And as long as Germans
live they will be proud to remember that these men were the sons of
their forefathers.

I was then a soldier and did not wish to meddle in politics, all the
more so because the time was inopportune. I still believe that the most
modest stable-boy of those days served his country better than the best
of, let us say, the 'parliamentary deputies'. My hatred for those
footlers was never greater than in those days when all decent men who
had anything to say said it point-blank in the enemy's face; or, failing
this, kept their mouths shut and did their duty elsewhere. I despised
those political fellows and if I had had my way I would have formed them
into a Labour Battalion and given them the opportunity of babbling
amongst themselves to their hearts' content, without offence or harm to
decent people.

In those days I cared nothing for politics; but I could not help forming
an opinion on certain manifestations which affected not only the whole
nation but also us soldiers in particular. There were two things which
caused me the greatest anxiety at that time and which I had come to
regard as detrimental to our interests.

Shortly after our first series of victories a certain section of the
Press already began to throw cold water, drip by drip, on the enthusiasm
of the public. At first this was not obvious to many people. It was done
under the mask of good intentions and a spirit of anxious care. The
public was told that big celebrations of victories were somewhat out of
place and were not worthy expressions of the spirit of a great nation.
The fortitude and valour of German soldiers were accepted facts which
did not necessarily call for outbursts of celebration. Furthermore, it
was asked, what would foreign opinion have to say about these
manifestations? Would not foreign opinion react more favourably to a
quiet and sober form of celebration rather than to all this wild
jubilation? Surely the time had come--so the Press declared--for us
Germans to remember that this war was not our work and that hence there
need be no feeling of shame in declaring our willingness to do our share
towards effecting an understanding among the nations. For this reason it
would not be wise to sully the radiant deeds of our army with unbecoming
jubilation; for the rest of the world would never understand this.
Furthermore, nothing is more appreciated than the modesty with which a
true hero quietly and unassumingly carries on and forgets. Such was the
gist of their warning.

Instead of catching these fellows by their long ears and dragging them
to some ditch and looping a cord around their necks, so that the
victorious enthusiasm of the nation should no longer offend the
aesthetic sensibilities of these knights of the pen, a general Press
campaign was now allowed to go on against what was called 'unbecoming'
and 'undignified' forms of victorious celebration.

No one seemed to have the faintest idea that when public enthusiasm is
once damped, nothing can enkindle it again, when the necessity arises.
This enthusiasm is an intoxication and must be kept up in that form.
Without the support of this enthusiastic spirit how would it be possible
to endure in a struggle which, according to human standards, made such
immense demands on the spiritual stamina of the nation?

I was only too well acquainted with the psychology of the broad masses
not to know that in such cases a magnaminous 'aestheticism' cannot fan
the fire which is needed to keep the iron hot. In my eyes it was even a
mistake not to have tried to raise the pitch of public enthusiasm still
higher. Therefore I could not at all understand why the contrary policy
was adopted, that is to say, the policy of damping the public spirit.

Another thing which irritated me was the manner in which Marxism was
regarded and accepted. I thought that all this proved how little they
knew about the Marxist plague. It was believed in all seriousness that
the abolition of party distinctions during the War had made Marxism a
mild and moderate thing.

But here there was no question of party. There was question of a
doctrine which was being expounded for the express purpose of leading
humanity to its destruction. The purport of this doctrine was not
understood because nothing was said about that side of the question in
our Jew-ridden universities and because our supercilious bureaucratic
officials did not think it worth while to read up a subject which had
not been prescribed in their university course. This mighty
revolutionary trend was going on beside them; but those 'intellectuals'
would not deign to give it their attention. That is why State enterprise
nearly always lags behind private enterprise. Of these gentry once can
truly say that their maxim is: What we don't know won't bother us. In
the August of 1914 the German worker was looked upon as an adherent of
Marxist socialism. That was a gross error. When those fateful hours
dawned the German worker shook off the poisonous clutches of that
plague; otherwise he would not have been so willing and ready to fight.
And people were stupid enough to imagine that Marxism had now become
'national', another apt illustration of the fact that those in authority
had never taken the trouble to study the real tenor of the Marxist
teaching. If they had done so, such foolish errors would not have been
committed.

Marxism, whose final objective was and is and will continue to be the
destruction of all non-Jewish national States, had to witness in those
days of July 1914 how the German working classes, which it had been
inveigling, were aroused by the national spirit and rapidly ranged
themselves on the side of the Fatherland. Within a few days the
deceptive smoke-screen of that infamous national betrayal had vanished
into thin air and the Jewish bosses suddenly found themselves alone and
deserted. It was as if not a vestige had been left of that folly and
madness with which the masses of the German people had been inoculated
for sixty years. That was indeed an evil day for the betrayers of German
Labour. The moment, however, that the leaders realized the danger which
threatened them they pulled the magic cap of deceit over their ears and,
without being identified, played the part of mimes in the national
reawakening.

The time seemed to have arrived for proceeding against the whole Jewish
gang of public pests. Then it was that action should have been taken
regardless of any consequent whining or protestation. At one stroke, in
the August of 1914, all the empty nonsense about international
solidarity was knocked out of the heads of the German working classes. A
few weeks later, instead of this stupid talk sounding in their ears,
they heard the noise of American-manufactured shrapnel bursting above
the heads of the marching columns, as a symbol of international
comradeship. Now that the German worker had rediscovered the road to
nationhood, it ought to have been the duty of any Government which had
the care of the people in its keeping, to take this opportunity of
mercilessly rooting out everything that was opposed to the national
spirit.

While the flower of the nation's manhood was dying at the front, there
was time enough at home at least to exterminate this vermin. But,
instead of doing so, His Majesty the Kaiser held out his hand to these
hoary criminals, thus assuring them his protection and allowing them to
regain their mental composure.

And so the viper could begin his work again. This time, however, more
carefully than before, but still more destructively. While honest people
dreamt of reconciliation these perjured criminals were making
preparations for a revolution.

Naturally I was distressed at the half-measures which were adopted at
that time; but I never thought it possible that the final consequences
could have been so disastrous?

But what should have been done then? Throw the ringleaders into gaol,
prosecute them and rid the nation of them? Uncompromising military
measures should have been adopted to root out the evil. Parties should
have been abolished and the Reichstag brought to its senses at the point
of the bayonet, if necessary. It would have been still better if the
Reichstag had been dissolved immediately. Just as the Republic to-day
dissolves the parties when it wants to, so in those days there was even
more justification for applying that measure, seeing that the very
existence of the nation was at stake. Of course this suggestion would
give rise to the question: Is it possible to eradicate ideas by force of
arms? Could a WELTANSCHAUUNG be attacked by means of physical force?

At that time I turned these questions over and over again in my mind. By
studying analogous cases, exemplified in history, particularly those
which had arisen from religious circumstances, I came to the following
fundamental conclusion:

Ideas and philosophical systems as well as movements grounded on a
definite spiritual foundation, whether true or not, can never be broken
by the use of force after a certain stage, except on one condition:
namely, that this use of force is in the service of a new idea or
WELTANSCHAUUNG which burns with a new flame.

The application of force alone, without moral support based on a
spiritual concept, can never bring about the destruction of an idea or
arrest the propagation of it, unless one is ready and able ruthlessly to
exterminate the last upholders of that idea even to a man, and also wipe
out any tradition which it may tend to leave behind. Now in the majority
of cases the result of such a course has been to exclude such a State,
either temporarily or for ever, from the comity of States that are of
political significance; but experience has also shown that such a
sanguinary method of extirpation arouses the better section of the
population under the persecuting power. As a matter of fact, every
persecution which has no spiritual motives to support it is morally
unjust and raises opposition among the best elements of the population;
so much so that these are driven more and more to champion the ideas
that are unjustly persecuted. With many individuals this arises from the
sheer spirit of opposition to every attempt at suppressing spiritual
things by brute force.

In this way the number of convinced adherents of the persecuted doctrine
increases as the persecution progresses. Hence the total destruction of
a new doctrine can be accomplished only by a vast plan of extermination;
but this, in the final analysis, means the loss of some of the best
blood in a nation or State. And that blood is then avenged, because such
an internal and total clean-up brings about the collapse of the nation's
strength. And such a procedure is always condemned to futility from the
very start if the attacked doctrine should happen to have spread beyond
a small circle.

That is why in this case, as with all other growths, the doctrine can be
exterminated in its earliest stages. As time goes on its powers of
resistance increase, until at the approach of age it gives way to
younger elements, but under another form and from other motives.

The fact remains that nearly all attempts to exterminate a doctrine,
without having some spiritual basis of attack against it, and also to
wipe out all the organizations it has created, have led in many cases to
the very opposite being achieved; and that for the following reasons:

When sheer force is used to combat the spread of a doctrine, then that
force must be employed systematically and persistently. This means that
the chances of success in the suppression of a doctrine lie only in the
persistent and uniform application of the methods chosen. The moment
hesitation is shown, and periods of tolerance alternate with the
application of force, the doctrine against which these measures are
directed will not only recover strength but every successive persecution
will bring to its support new adherents who have been shocked by the
oppressive methods employed. The old adherents will become more
embittered and their allegiance will thereby be strengthened. Therefore
when force is employed success is dependent on the consistent manner in
which it is used. This persistence, however, is nothing less than the
product of definite spiritual convictions. Every form of force that is
not supported by a spiritual backing will be always indecisive and
uncertain. Such a force lacks the stability that can be found only in a
WELTANSCHAUUNG which has devoted champions. Such a force is the
expression of the individual energies; therefore it is from time to time
dependent on the change of persons in whose hands it is employed and
also on their characters and capacities.

But there is something else to be said: Every WELTANSCHAUUNG, whether
religious or political--and it is sometimes difficult to say where the
one ends and the other begins--fights not so much for the negative
destruction of the opposing world of ideas as for the positive
realization of its own ideas. Thus its struggle lies in attack rather
than in defence. It has the advantage of knowing where its objective
lies, as this objective represents the realization of its own ideas.
Inversely, it is difficult to say when the negative aim for the
destruction of a hostile doctrine is reached and secured. For this
reason alone a WELTANSCHAUUNG which is of an aggressive character is
more definite in plan and more powerful and decisive in action than a
WELTANSCHAUUNG which takes up a merely defensive attitude. If force be
used to combat a spiritual power, that force remains a defensive measure
only so long as the wielders of it are not the standard-bearers and
apostles of a new spiritual doctrine.

To sum up, the following must be borne in mind: That every attempt to
combat a WELTANSCHAUUNG by means of force will turn out futile in the
end if the struggle fails to take the form of an offensive for the
establishment of an entirely new spiritual order of' things. It is only
in the struggle between two Weltan-schauungen that physical force,
consistently and ruthlessly applied, will eventually turn the scales in
its own favour. It was here that the fight against Marxism had hitherto
failed.

This was also the reason why Bismarck's anti-socialist legislation
failed and was bound to fail in the long run, despite everything. It
lacked the basis of a new WELTANSCHAUUNG for whose development and
extension the struggle might have been taken up. To say that the serving
up of drivel about a so-called 'State-Authority' or 'Law-and-Order' was
an adequate foundation for the spiritual driving force in a
life-or-death struggle is only what one would expect to hear from the
wiseacres in high official positions.

It was because there were no adequate spiritual motives back of this
offensive that Bismarck was compelled to hand over the administration of
his socialist legislative measures to the judgment and approval of those
circles which were themselves the product of the Marxist teaching. Thus
a very ludicrous state of affairs prevailed when the Iron Chancellor
surrendered the fate of his struggle against Marxism to the goodwill of
the bourgeois democracy. He left the goat to take care of the garden.
But this was only the necessary result of the failure to find a
fundamentally new WELTANSCHAUUNG which would attract devoted champions
to its cause and could be established on the ground from which Marxism
had been driven out. And thus the result of the Bismarckian campaign was
deplorable.

During the World War, or at the beginning of it, were the conditions any
different? Unfortunately, they were not.

The more I then pondered over the necessity for a change in the attitude
of the executive government towards Social-Democracy, as the
incorporation of contemporary Marxism, the more I realized the want of a
practical substitute for this doctrine. Supposing Social-Democracy were
overthrown, what had one to offer the masses in its stead? Not a single
movement existed which promised any success in attracting vast numbers
of workers who would be now more or less without leaders, and holding
these workers in its train. It is nonsensical to imagine that the
international fanatic who has just severed his connection with a class
party would forthwith join a bourgeois party, or, in other words,
another class organization. For however unsatisfactory these various
organizations may appear to be, it cannot be denied that bourgeois
politicians look on the distinction between classes as a very important
factor in social life, provided it does not turn out politically
disadvantageous to them. If they deny this fact they show themselves not
only impudent but also mendacious.

Generally speaking, one should guard against considering the broad
masses more stupid than they really are. In political matters it
frequently happens that feeling judges more correctly than intellect.
But the opinion that this feeling on the part of the masses is
sufficient proof of their stupid international attitude can be
immediately and definitely refuted by the simple fact that pacifist
democracy is no less fatuous, though it draws its supporters almost
exclusively from bourgeois circles. As long as millions of citizens
daily gulp down what the social-democratic Press tells them, it ill
becomes the 'Masters' to joke at the expense of the 'Comrades'; for in
the long run they all swallow the same hash, even though it be dished up
with different spices. In both cases the cook is one and the same--the
Jew.

One should be careful about contradicting established facts. It is an
undeniable fact that the class question has nothing to do with questions
concerning ideals, though that dope is administered at election time.
Class arrogance among a large section of our people, as well as a
prevailing tendency to look down on the manual labourer, are obvious
facts and not the fancies of some day-dreamer. Nevertheless it only
illustrates the mentality of our so-called intellectual circles, that
they have not yet grasped the fact that circumstances which are
incapable of preventing the growth of such a plague as Marxism are
certainly not capable of restoring what has been lost.

The bourgeois' parties--a name coined by themselves--will never again be
able to win over and hold the proletarian masses in their train. That is
because two worlds stand opposed to one another here, in part naturally
and in part artificially divided. These two camps have one leading
thought, and that is that they must fight one another. But in such a
fight the younger will come off victorious; and that is Marxism.

In 1914 a fight against Social-Democracy was indeed quite conceivable.
But the lack of any practical substitute made it doubtful how long the
fight could be kept up. In this respect there was a gaping void.

Long before the War I was of the same opinion and that was the reason
why I could not decide to join any of the parties then existing. During
the course of the World War my conviction was still further confirmed by
the manifest impossibility of fighting Social-Democracy in anything like
a thorough way: because for that purpose there should have been a
movement that was something more than a mere 'parliamentary' party, and
there was none such.

I frequently discussed that want with my intimate comrades. And it was
then that I first conceived the idea of taking up political work later
on. As I have often assured my friends, it was just this that induced me
to become active on the public hustings after the War, in addition to my
professional work. And I am sure that this decision was arrived at after
much earnest thought.




CHAPTER VI



WAR PROPAGANDA


In watching the course of political events I was always struck by the
active part which propaganda played in them. I saw that it was an
instrument, which the Marxist Socialists knew how to handle in a
masterly way and how to put it to practical uses. Thus I soon came to
realize that the right use of propaganda was an art in itself and that
this art was practically unknown to our bourgeois parties. The
Christian-Socialist Party alone, especially in Lueger's time, showed a
certain efficiency in the employment of this instrument and owed much of
their success to it.

It was during the War, however, that we had the best chance of
estimating the tremendous results which could be obtained by a
propagandist system properly carried out. Here again, unfortunately,
everything was left to the other side, the work done on our side being
worse than insignificant. It was the total failure of the whole German
system of information--a failure which was perfectly obvious to every
soldier--that urged me to consider the problem of propaganda in a
comprehensive way. I had ample opportunity to learn a practical lesson
in this matter; for unfortunately it was only too well taught us by the
enemy. The lack on our side was exploited by the enemy in such an
efficient manner that one could say it showed itself as a real work of
genius. In that propaganda carried on by the enemy I found admirable
sources of instruction. The lesson to be learned from this had
unfortunately no attraction for the geniuses on our own side. They were
simply above all such things, too clever to accept any teaching. Anyhow
they did not honestly wish to learn anything.

Had we any propaganda at all? Alas, I can reply only in the negative.
All that was undertaken in this direction was so utterly inadequate and
misconceived from the very beginning that not only did it prove useless
but at times harmful. In substance it was insufficient. Psychologically
it was all wrong. Anybody who had carefully investigated the German
propaganda must have formed that judgment of it. Our people did not seem
to be clear even about the primary question itself: Whether propaganda
is a means or an end?

Propaganda is a means and must, therefore, be judged in relation to the
end it is intended to serve. It must be organized in such a way as to be
capable of attaining its objective. And, as it is quite clear that the
importance of the objective may vary from the standpoint of general
necessity, the essential internal character of the propaganda must vary
accordingly. The cause for which we fought during the War was the
noblest and highest that man could strive for. We were fighting for the
freedom and independence of our country, for the security of our future
welfare and the honour of the nation. Despite all views to the contrary,
this honour does actually exist, or rather it will have to exist; for a
nation without honour will sooner or later lose its freedom and
independence. This is in accordance with the ruling of a higher justice,
for a generation of poltroons is not entitled to freedom. He who would
be a slave cannot have honour; for such honour would soon become an
object of general scorn.

Germany was waging war for its very existence. The purpose of its war
propaganda should have been to strengthen the fighting spirit in that
struggle and help it to victory.

But when nations are fighting for their existence on this earth, when
the question of 'to be or not to be' has to be answered, then all humane
and aesthetic considerations must be set aside; for these ideals do not
exist of themselves somewhere in the air but are the product of man's
creative imagination and disappear when he disappears. Nature knows
nothing of them. Moreover, they are characteristic of only a small
number of nations, or rather of races, and their value depends on the
measure in which they spring from the racial feeling of the latter.
Humane and aesthetic ideals will disappear from the inhabited earth when
those races disappear which are the creators and standard-bearers of
them.

All such ideals are only of secondary importance when a nation is
struggling for its existence. They must be prevented from entering into
the struggle the moment they threaten to weaken the stamina of the
nation that is waging war. That is always the only visible effect
whereby their place in the struggle is to be judged.

In regard to the part played by humane feeling, Moltke stated that in
time of war the essential thing is to get a decision as quickly as
possible and that the most ruthless methods of fighting are at the same
time the most humane. When people attempt to answer this reasoning by
highfalutin talk about aesthetics, etc., only one answer can be given. It
is that the vital questions involved in the struggle of a nation for its
existence must not be subordinated to any aesthetic considerations. The
yoke of slavery is and always will remain the most unpleasant experience
that mankind can endure. Do the Schwabing (Note 12) decadents look upon
Germany's lot to-day as 'aesthetic'? Of course, one doesn't discuss such
a question with the Jews, because they are the modern inventors of this
cultural perfume. Their very existence is an incarnate denial of the
beauty of God's image in His creation.

[Note 12. Schwabing is the artistic quarter in Munich where artists have
their studios and litterateurs, especially of the Bohemian class,
foregather.]

Since these ideas of what is beautiful and humane have no place in
warfare, they are not to be used as standards of war propaganda.

During the War, propaganda was a means to an end. And this end was the
struggle for existence of the German nation. Propaganda, therefore,
should have been regarded from the standpoint of its utility for that
purpose. The most cruel weapons were then the most humane, provided they
helped towards a speedier decision; and only those methods were good and
beautiful which helped towards securing the dignity and freedom of the
nation. Such was the only possible attitude to adopt towards war
propaganda in the life-or-death struggle.

If those in what are called positions of authority had realized this
there would have been no uncertainty about the form and employment of
war propaganda as a weapon; for it is nothing but a weapon, and indeed a
most terrifying weapon in the hands of those who know how to use it.

The second question of decisive importance is this: To whom should
propaganda be made to appeal? To the educated intellectual classes? Or
to the less intellectual?

Propaganda must always address itself to the broad masses of the people.
For the intellectual classes, or what are called the intellectual
classes to-day, propaganda is not suited, but only scientific
exposition. Propaganda has as little to do with science as an
advertisement poster has to do with art, as far as concerns the form in
which it presents its message. The art of the advertisement poster
consists in the ability of the designer to attract the attention of the
crowd through the form and colours he chooses. The advertisement poster
announcing an exhibition of art has no other aim than to convince the
public of the importance of the exhibition. The better it does that, the
better is the art of the poster as such. Being meant accordingly to
impress upon the public the meaning of the exposition, the poster can
never take the place of the artistic objects displayed in the exposition
hall. They are something entirely different. Therefore. those who wish
to study the artistic display must study something that is quite
different from the poster; indeed for that purpose a mere wandering
through the exhibition galleries is of no use. The student of art must
carefully and thoroughly study each exhibit in order slowly to form a
judicious opinion about it.

The situation is the same in regard to what we understand by the word,
propaganda. The purpose of propaganda is not the personal instruction of
the individual, but rather to attract public attention to certain
things, the importance of which can be brought home to the masses only
by this means.

Here the art of propaganda consists in putting a matter so clearly and
forcibly before the minds of the people as to create a general
conviction regarding the reality of a certain fact, the necessity of
certain things and the just character of something that is essential.
But as this art is not an end in itself and because its purpose must be
exactly that of the advertisement poster, to attract the attention of
the masses and not by any means to dispense individual instructions to
those who already have an educated opinion on things or who wish to form
such an opinion on grounds of objective study--because that is not the
purpose of propaganda, it must appeal to the feelings of the public
rather than to their reasoning powers.

All propaganda must be presented in a popular form and must fix its
intellectual level so as not to be above the heads of the least
intellectual of those to whom it is directed. Thus its purely
intellectual level will have to be that of the lowest mental common
denominator among the public it is desired to reach. When there is
question of bringing a whole nation within the circle of its influence,
as happens in the case of war propaganda, then too much attention cannot
be paid to the necessity of avoiding a high level, which presupposes a
relatively high degree of intelligence among the public.

The more modest the scientific tenor of this propaganda and the more it
is addressed exclusively to public sentiment, the more decisive will be
its success. This is the best test of the value of a propaganda, and not
the approbation of a small group of intellectuals or artistic people.

The art of propaganda consists precisely in being able to awaken the
imagination of the public through an appeal to their feelings, in
finding the appropriate psychological form that will arrest the
attention and appeal to the hearts of the national masses. That this is
not understood by those among us whose wits are supposed to have been
sharpened to the highest pitch is only another proof of their vanity or
mental inertia.

Once we have understood how necessary it is to concentrate the
persuasive forces of propaganda on the broad masses of the people, the
following lessons result therefrom:

That it is a mistake to organize the direct propaganda as if it were a
manifold system of scientific instruction.

The receptive powers of the masses are very restricted, and their
understanding is feeble. On the other hand, they quickly forget. Such
being the case, all effective propaganda must be confined to a few bare
essentials and those must be expressed as far as possible in stereotyped
formulas. These slogans should be persistently repeated until the very
last individual has come to grasp the idea that has been put forward. If
this principle be forgotten and if an attempt be made to be abstract and
general, the propaganda will turn out ineffective; for the public will
not be able to digest or retain what is offered to them in this way.
Therefore, the greater the scope of the message that has to be
presented, the more necessary it is for the propaganda to discover that
plan of action which is psychologically the most efficient.

It was, for example, a fundamental mistake to ridicule the worth of the
enemy as the Austrian and German comic papers made a chief point of
doing in their propaganda. The very principle here is a mistaken one;
for, when they came face to face with the enemy, our soldiers had quite
a different impression. Therefore, the mistake had disastrous results.
Once the German soldier realised what a tough enemy he had to fight he
felt that he had been deceived by the manufacturers of the information
which had been given him. Therefore, instead of strengthening and
stimulating his fighting spirit, this information had quite the contrary
effect. Finally he lost heart.

On the other hand, British and American war propaganda was
psychologically efficient. By picturing the Germans to their own people
as Barbarians and Huns, they were preparing their soldiers for the
horrors of war and safeguarding them against illusions. The most
terrific weapons which those soldiers encountered in the field merely
confirmed the information that they had already received and their
belief in the truth of the assertions made by their respective
governments was accordingly reinforced. Thus their rage and hatred
against the infamous foe was increased. The terrible havoc caused by the
German weapons of war was only another illustration of the Hunnish
brutality of those barbarians; whereas on the side of the Entente no
time was left the soldiers to meditate on the similar havoc which their
own weapons were capable of. Thus the British soldier was never allowed
to feel that the information which he received at home was untrue.
Unfortunately the opposite was the case with the Germans, who finally
wound up by rejecting everything from home as pure swindle and humbug.
This result was made possible because at home they thought that the work
of propaganda could be entrusted to the first ass that came along,
braying of his own special talents, and they had no conception of the
fact that propaganda demands the most skilled brains that can be found.

Thus the German war propaganda afforded us an incomparable example of
how the work of 'enlightenment' should not be done and how such an
example was the result of an entire failure to take any psychological
considerations whatsoever into account.

From the enemy, however, a fund of valuable knowledge could be gained by
those who kept their eyes open, whose powers of perception had not yet
become sclerotic, and who during four-and-a-half years had to experience
the perpetual flood of enemy propaganda.

The worst of all was that our people did not understand the very first
condition which has to be fulfilled in every kind of propaganda; namely,
a systematically one-sided attitude towards every problem that has to be
dealt with. In this regard so many errors were committed, even from the
very beginning of the war, that it was justifiable to doubt whether so
much folly could be attributed solely to the stupidity of people in
higher quarters.

What, for example, should we say of a poster which purported to
advertise some new brand of soap by insisting on the excellent qualities
of the competitive brands? We should naturally shake our heads. And it
ought to be just the same in a similar kind of political advertisement.
The aim of propaganda is not to try to pass judgment on conflicting
rights, giving each its due, but exclusively to emphasize the right
which we are asserting. Propaganda must not investigate the truth
objectively and, in so far as it is favourable to the other side,
present it according to the theoretical rules of justice; yet it must
present only that aspect of the truth which is favourable to its own
side.

It was a fundamental mistake to discuss the question of who was
responsible for the outbreak of the war and declare that the sole
responsibility could not be attributed to Germany. The sole
responsibility should have been laid on the shoulders of the enemy,
without any discussion whatsoever.

And what was the consequence of these half-measures? The broad masses of
the people are not made up of diplomats or professors of public
jurisprudence nor simply of persons who are able to form reasoned
judgment in given cases, but a vacillating crowd of human children who
are constantly wavering between one idea and another. As soon as our own
propaganda made the slightest suggestion that the enemy had a certain
amount of justice on his side, then we laid down the basis on which the
justice of our own cause could be questioned. The masses are not in a
position to discern where the enemy's fault ends and where our own
begins. In such a case they become hesitant and distrustful, especially
when the enemy does not make the same mistake but heaps all the blame on
his adversary. Could there be any clearer proof of this than the fact
that finally our own people believed what was said by the enemy's
propaganda, which was uniform and consistent in its assertions, rather
than what our own propaganda said? And that, of course, was increased by
the mania for objectivity which addicts our people. Everybody began to
be careful about doing an injustice to the enemy, even at the cost of
seriously injuring, and even ruining his own people and State.

Naturally the masses were not conscious of the fact that those in
authority had failed to study the subject from this angle.

The great majority of a nation is so feminine in its character and
outlook that its thought and conduct are ruled by sentiment rather than
by sober reasoning. This sentiment, however, is not complex, but simple
and consistent. It is not highly differentiated, but has only the
negative and positive notions of love and hatred, right and wrong, truth
and falsehood. Its notions are never partly this and partly that.
English propaganda especially understood this in a marvellous way and
put what they understood into practice. They allowed no half-measures
which might have given rise to some doubt.

Proof of how brilliantly they understood that the feeling of the masses
is something primitive was shown in their policy of publishing tales of
horror and outrages which fitted in with the real horrors of the time,
thereby cleverly and ruthlessly preparing the ground for moral
solidarity at the front, even in times of great defeats. Further, the
way in which they pilloried the German enemy as solely responsible for
the war--which was a brutal and absolute falsehood--and the way in which
they proclaimed his guilt was excellently calculated to reach the
masses, realizing that these are always extremist in their feelings. And
thus it was that this atrocious lie was positively believed.

The effectiveness of this kind of propaganda is well illustrated by the
fact that after four-and-a-half years, not only was the enemy still
carrying on his propagandist work, but it was already undermining the
stamina of our people at home.

That our propaganda did not achieve similar results is not to be
wondered at, because it had the germs of inefficiency lodged in its very
being by reason of its ambiguity. And because of the very nature of its
content one could not expect it to make the necessary impression on the
masses. Only our feckless 'statesmen' could have imagined that on
pacifists slops of such a kind the enthusiasm could be nourished which
is necessary to enkindle that spirit which leads men to die for their
country.

And so this product of ours was not only worthless but detrimental.

No matter what an amount of talent employed in the organization of
propaganda, it will have no result if due account is not taken of these
fundamental principles. Propaganda must be limited to a few simple
themes and these must be represented again and again. Here, as in
innumerable other cases, perseverance is the first and most important
condition of success.

Particularly in the field of propaganda, placid aesthetes and blase
intellectuals should never be allowed to take the lead. The former would
readily transform the impressive character of real propaganda into
something suitable only for literary tea parties. As to the second class
of people, one must always beware of this pest; for, in consequence of
their insensibility to normal impressions, they are constantly seeking
new excitements.

Such people grow sick and tired of everything. They always long for
change and will always be incapable of putting themselves in the
position of picturing the wants of their less callous fellow-creatures
in their immediate neighbourhood, let alone trying to understand them.
The blase intellectuals are always the first to criticize propaganda, or
rather its message, because this appears to them to be outmoded and
trivial. They are always looking for something new, always yearning for
change; and thus they become the mortal enemies of every effort that may
be made to influence the masses in an effective way. The moment the
organization and message of a propagandist movement begins to be
orientated according to their tastes it becomes incoherent and
scattered.

It is not the purpose of propaganda to create a series of alterations in
sentiment with a view to pleasing these blase gentry. Its chief function
is to convince the masses, whose slowness of understanding needs to be
given time in order that they may absorb information; and only constant
repetition will finally succeed in imprinting an idea on the memory of
the crowd.

Every change that is made in the subject of a propagandist message must
always emphasize the same conclusion. The leading slogan must of course
be illustrated in many ways and from several angles, but in the end one
must always return to the assertion of the same formula. In this way
alone can propaganda be consistent and dynamic in its effects.

Only by following these general lines and sticking to them steadfastly,
with uniform and concise emphasis, can final success be reached. Then
one will be rewarded by the surprising and almost incredible results
that such a persistent policy secures.

The success of any advertisement, whether of a business or political
nature, depends on the consistency and perseverance with which it is
employed.

In this respect also the propaganda organized by our enemies set us an
excellent example. It confined itself to a few themes, which were meant
exclusively for mass consumption, and it repeated these themes with
untiring perseverance. Once these fundamental themes and the manner of
placing them before the world were recognized as effective, they adhered
to them without the slightest alteration for the whole duration of the
War. At first all of it appeared to be idiotic in its impudent
assertiveness. Later on it was looked upon as disturbing, but finally it
was believed.

But in England they came to understand something further: namely, that
the possibility of success in the use of this spiritual weapon consists
in the mass employment of it, and that when employed in this way it
brings full returns for the large expenses incurred.

In England propaganda was regarded as a weapon of the first order,
whereas with us it represented the last hope of a livelihood for our
unemployed politicians and a snug job for shirkers of the modest hero
type.

Taken all in all, its results were negative.




CHAPTER VII



THE REVOLUTION


In 1915 the enemy started his propaganda among our soldiers. From 1916
onwards it steadily became more intensive, and at the beginning of 1918
it had swollen into a storm flood. One could now judge the effects of
this proselytizing movement step by step. Gradually our soldiers began
to think just in the way the enemy wished them to think. On the German
side there was no counter-propaganda.

At that time the army authorities, under our able and resolute
Commander, were willing and ready to take up the fight in the propaganda
domain also, but unfortunately they did not have the necessary means to
carry that intention into effect. Moreover, the army authorities would
have made a psychological mistake had they undertaken this task of
mental training. To be efficacious it had come from the home front. For
only thus could it be successful among men who for nearly four years now
had been performing immortal deeds of heroism and undergoing all sorts
of privations for the sake of that home. But what were the people at
home doing? Was their failure to act merely due to unintelligence or bad
faith?

In the midsummer of 1918, after the evacuation of the southern bank of
the hearne, the German Press adopted a policy which was so woefully
inopportune, and even criminally stupid, that I used to ask myself a
question which made me more and more furious day after day: Is it really
true that we have nobody who will dare to put an end to this process of
spiritual sabotage which is being carried on among our heroic troops?

What happened in France during those days of 1914, when our armies
invaded that country and were marching in triumph from one victory to
another? What happened in Italy when their armies collapsed on the
Isonzo front? What happened in France again during the spring of 1918,
when German divisions took the main French positions by storm and heavy
long-distance artillery bombarded Paris?

How they whipped up the flagging courage of those troops who were
retreating and fanned the fires of national enthusiasm among them! How
their propaganda and their marvellous aptitude in the exercise of
mass-influence reawakened the fighting spirit in that broken front and
hammered into the heads of the soldiers a, firm belief in final victory!

Meanwhile, what were our people doing in this sphere? Nothing, or even
worse than nothing. Again and again I used to become enraged and
indignant as I read the latest papers and realized the nature of the
mass-murder they were committing: through their influence on the minds
of the people and the soldiers. More than once I was tormented by the
thought that if Providence had put the conduct of German propaganda into
my hands, instead of into the hands of those incompetent and even
criminal ignoramuses and weaklings, the outcome of the struggle might
have been different.

During those months I felt for the first time that Fate was dealing
adversely with me in keeping me on the fighting front and in a position
where any chance bullet from some nigger or other might finish me,
whereas I could have done the Fatherland a real service in another
sphere. For I was then presumptuous enough to believe that I would have
been successful in managing the propaganda business.

But I was a being without a name, one among eight millions. Hence it was
better for me to keep my mouth shut and do my duty as well as I could in
the position to which I had been assigned.

In the summer of 1915 the first enemy leaflets were dropped on our
trenches. They all told more or less the same story, with some
variations in the form of it. The story was that distress was steadily
on the increase in Germany; that the War would last indefinitely; that
the prospect of victory for us was becoming fainter day after day; that
the people at home were yearning for peace, but that 'Militarism' and
the 'Kaiser' would not permit it; that the world--which knew this very
well--was not waging war against the German people but only against the
man who was exclusively responsible, the Kaiser; that until this enemy
of world-peace was removed there could be no end to the conflict; but
that when the War was over the liberal and democratic nations would
receive the Germans as colleagues in the League for World Peace. This
would be done the moment 'Prussian Militarism' had been finally
destroyed.

To illustrate and substantiate all these statements, the leaflets very
often contained 'Letters from Home', the contents of which appeared to
confirm the enemy's propagandist message.

Generally speaking, we only laughed at all these efforts. The leaflets
were read, sent to base headquarters, then forgotten until a favourable
wind once again blew a fresh contingent into the trenches. These were
mostly dropped from aeroplanes which were used specially for that
purpose.

One feature of this propaganda was very striking. It was that in
sections where Bavarian troops were stationed every effort was made by
the enemy propagandists to stir up feeling against the Prussians,
assuring the soldiers that Prussia and Prussia alone was the guilty
party who was responsible for bringing on and continuing the War, and
that there was no hostility whatsoever towards the Bavarians; but that
there could be no possibility of coming to their assistance so long as
they continued to serve Prussian interests and helped to pull the
Prussian chestnuts out of the fire.

This persistent propaganda began to have a real influence on our
soldiers in 1915. The feeling against Prussia grew quite noticeable
among the Bavarian troops, but those in authority did nothing to
counteract it. This was something more than a mere crime of omission;
for sooner or later not only the Prussians were bound to have to atone
severely for it but the whole German nation and consequently the
Bavarians themselves also.

In this direction the enemy propaganda began to achieve undoubted
success from 1916 onwards.

In a similar way letters coming directly from home had long since been
exercising their effect. There was now no further necessity for the
enemy to broadcast such letters in leaflet form. And also against this
influence from home nothing was done except a few supremely stupid
'warnings' uttered by the executive government. The whole front was
drenched in this poison which thoughtless women at home sent out,
without suspecting for a moment that the enemy's chances of final
victory were thus strengthened or that the sufferings of their own men
at the front were thus being prolonged and rendered more severe. These
stupid letters written by German women eventually cost the lives of
hundreds of thousands of our men.

Thus in 1916 several distressing phenomena were already manifest. The
whole front was complaining and grousing, discontented over many things
and often justifiably so. While they were hungry and yet patient, and
their relatives at home were in distress, in other quarters there was
feasting and revelry. Yes; even on the front itself everything was not
as it ought to have been in this regard.

Even in the early stages of the war the soldiers were sometimes prone to
complain; but such criticism was confined to 'internal affairs'. The man
who at one moment groused and grumbled ceased his murmur after a few
moments and went about his duty silently, as if everything were in
order. The company which had given signs of discontent a moment earlier
hung on now to its bit of trench, defending it tooth and nail, as if
Germany's fate depended on these few hundred yards of mud and
shell-holes. The glorious old army was still at its post. A sudden
change in my own fortunes soon placed me in a position where I had
first-hand experience of the contrast between this old army and the home
front. At the end of September 1916 my division was sent into the Battle
of the Somme. For us this was the first of a series of heavy
engagements, and the impression created was that of a veritable inferno,
rather than war. Through weeks of incessant artillery bombardment we
stood firm, at times ceding a little ground but then taking it back
again, and never giving way. On October 7th, 1916, I was wounded but had
the luck of being able to get back to our lines and was then ordered to
be sent by ambulance train to Germany.

Two years had passed since I had left home, an almost endless period in
such circumstances. I could hardly imagine what Germans looked like
without uniforms. In the clearing hospital at Hermies I was startled
when I suddenly heard the voice of a German woman who was acting as
nursing sister and talking with one of the wounded men lying near me.
Two years! And then this voice for the first time!

The nearer our ambulance train approached the German frontier the more
restless each one of us became. En route we recognised all these places
through which we passed two years before as young volunteers--Brussels,
Louvain, Liège--and finally we thought we recognized the first German
homestead, with its familiar high gables and picturesque
window-shutters. Home!

What a change! From the mud of the Somme battlefields to the spotless
white beds in this wonderful building. One hesitated at first before
entering them. It was only by slow stages that one could grow accustomed
to this new world again. But unfortunately there were certain other
aspects also in which this new world was different.

The spirit of the army at the front appeared to be out of place here.
For the first time I encountered something which up to then was unknown
at the front: namely, boasting of one's own cowardice. For, though we
certainly heard complaining and grousing at the front, this was never in
the spirit of any agitation to insubordination and certainly not an
attempt to glorify one's fear. No; there at the front a coward was a
coward and nothing else, And the contempt which his weakness aroused in
the others was quite general, just as the real hero was admired all
round. But here in hospital the spirit was quite different in some
respects. Loudmouthed agitators were busy here in heaping ridicule on
the good soldier and painting the weak-kneed poltroon in glorious
colours. A couple of miserable human specimens were the ringleaders in
this process of defamation. One of them boasted of having intentionally
injured his hand in barbed-wire entanglements in order to get sent to
hospital. Although his wound was only a slight one, it appeared that he
had been here for a very long time and would be here interminably. Some
arrangement for him seemed to be worked by some sort of swindle, just as
he got sent here in the ambulance train through a swindle. This
pestilential specimen actually had the audacity to parade his knavery as
the manifestation of a courage which was superior to that of the brave
soldier who dies a hero's death. There were many who heard this talk in
silence; but there were others who expressed their assent to what the
fellow said.

Personally I was disgusted at the thought that a seditious agitator of
this kind should be allowed to remain in such an institution. What could
be done? The hospital authorities here must have known who and what he
was; and actually they did know. But still they did nothing about it.

As soon as I was able to walk once again I obtained leave to visit
Berlin.

Bitter want was in evidence everywhere. The metropolis, with its teeming
millions, was suffering from hunger. The talk that was current in the
various places of refreshment and hospices visited by the soldiers was
much the same as that in our hospital. The impression given was that
these agitators purposely singled out such places in order to spread
their views.

But in Munich conditions were far worse. After my discharge from
hospital, I was sent to a reserve battalion there. I felt as in some
strange town. Anger, discontent, complaints met one's ears wherever one
went. To a certain extent this was due to the infinitely maladroit
manner in which the soldiers who had returned from the front were
treated by the non-commissioned officers who had never seen a day's
active service and who on that account were partly incapable of adopting
the proper attitude towards the old soldiers. Naturally those old
soldiers displayed certain characteristics which had been developed from
the experiences in the trenches. The officers of the reserve units could
not understand these peculiarities, whereas the officer home from active
service was at least in a position to understand them for himself. As a
result he received more respect from the men than officers at the home
headquarters. But, apart from all this, the general spirit was
deplorable. The art of shirking was looked upon as almost a proof of
higher intelligence, and devotion to duty was considered a sign of
weakness or bigotry. Government offices were staffed by Jews. Almost
every clerk was a Jew and every Jew was a clerk. I was amazed at this
multitude of combatants who belonged to the chosen people and could not
help comparing it with their slender numbers in the fighting lines.

In the business world the situation was even worse. Here the Jews had
actually become 'indispensable'. Like leeches, they were slowly sucking
the blood from the pores of the national body. By means of newly floated
War Companies an instrument had been discovered whereby all national
trade was throttled so that no business could be carried on freely

Special emphasis was laid on the necessity for unhampered
centralization. Hence as early as 1916-17 practically all production was
under the control of Jewish finance.

But against whom was the anger of the people directed? It was then that
I already saw the fateful day approaching which must finally bring the
DEBACLE, unless timely preventive measures were taken.

While Jewry was busy despoiling the nation and tightening the screws of
its despotism, the work of inciting the people against the Prussians
increased. And just as nothing was done at the front to put a stop to
the venomous propaganda, so here at home no official steps were taken
against it. Nobody seemed capable of understanding that the collapse of
Prussia could never bring about the rise of Bavaria. On the contrary,
the collapse of the one must necessarily drag the other down with it.

This kind of behaviour affected me very deeply. In it I could see only a
clever Jewish trick for diverting public attention from themselves to
others. While Prussians and Bavarians were squabbling, the Jews were
taking away the sustenance of both from under their very noses. While
Prussians were being abused in Bavaria the Jews organized the revolution
and with one stroke smashed both Prussia and Bavaria.

I could not tolerate this execrable squabbling among people of the same
German stock and preferred to be at the front once again. Therefore,
just after my arrival in Munich I reported myself for service again. At
the beginning of March 1917 I rejoined my old regiment at the front.

Towards the end of 1917 it seemed as if we had got over the worst phases
of moral depression at the front. After the Russian collapse the whole
army recovered its courage and hope, and all were gradually becoming
more and more convinced that the struggle would end in our favour. We
could sing once again. The ravens were ceasing to croak. Faith in the
future of the Fatherland was once more in the ascendant.

The Italian collapse in the autumn of 1917 had a wonderful effect; for
this victory proved that it was possible to break through another front
besides the Russian. This inspiring thought now became dominant in the
minds of millions at the front and encouraged them to look forward with
confidence to the spring of 1918. It was quite obvious that the enemy
was in a state of depression. During this winter the front was somewhat
quieter than usual. But that was the calm before the storm.

Just when preparations were being made to launch a final offensive which
would bring this seemingly eternal struggle to an end, while endless
columns of transports were bringing men and munitions to the front, and
while the men were being trained for that final onslaught, then it was
that the greatest act of treachery during the whole War was accomplished
in Germany.

Germany must not win the War. At that moment when victory seemed ready
to alight on the German standards, a conspiracy was arranged for the
purpose of striking at the heart of the German spring offensive with one
blow from the rear and thus making victory impossible. A general strike
in the munition factories was organized.

If this conspiracy could achieve its purpose the German front would have
collapsed and the wishes of the VORWÄRTS (the organ of the
Social-Democratic Party) that this time victory should not take the side
of the German banners, would have been fulfilled. For want of munitions
the front would be broken through within a few weeks, the offensive
would be effectively stopped and the Entente saved. Then International
Finance would assume control over Germany and the internal objective of
the Marxist national betrayal would be achieved. That objective was the
destruction of the national economic system and the establishment of
international capitalistic domination in its stead. And this goal has
really been reached, thanks to the stupid credulity of the one side and
the unspeakable treachery of the other.

The munition strike, however, did not bring the final success that had
been hoped for: namely, to starve the front of ammunition. It lasted too
short a time for the lack of ammunitions as such to bring disaster to
the army, as was originally planned. But the moral damage was much more
terrible.

In the first place. what was the army fighting for if the people at home
did not wish it to be victorious? For whom then were these enormous
sacrifices and privations being made and endured? Must the soldiers
fight for victory while the home front goes on strike against it?

In the second place, what effect did this move have on the enemy?

In the winter of 1917-18 dark clouds hovered in the firmament of the
Entente. For nearly four years onslaught after onslaught has been made
against the German giant, but they failed to bring him to the ground. He
had to keep them at bay with one arm that held the defensive shield
because his other arm had to be free to wield the sword against his
enemies, now in the East and now in the South. But at last these enemies
were overcome and his rear was now free for the conflict in the West.
Rivers of blood had been shed for the accomplishment of that task; but
now the sword was free to combine in battle with the shield on the
Western Front. And since the enemy had hitherto failed to break the
German defence here, the Germans themselves had now to launch the
attack. The enemy feared and trembled before the prospect of this German
victory.

At Paris and London conferences followed one another in unending series.
Even the enemy propaganda encountered difficulties. It was no longer so
easy to demonstrate that the prospect of a German victory was hopeless.
A prudent silence reigned at the front, even among the troops of the
Entente. The insolence of their masters had suddenly subsided. A
disturbing truth began to dawn on them. Their opinion of the German
soldier had changed. Hitherto they were able to picture him as a kind of
fool whose end would be destruction; but now they found themselves face
to face with the soldier who had overcome their Russian ally. The policy
of restricting the offensive to the East, which had been imposed on the
German military authorities by the necessities of the situation, now
seemed to the Entente as a tactical stroke of genius. For three years
these Germans had been battering away at the Russian front without any
apparent success at first. Those fruitless efforts were almost sneered
at; for it was thought that in the long run the Russian giant would
triumph through sheer force of numbers. Germany would be worn out
through shedding so much blood. And facts appeared to confirm this hope.

Since the September days of 1914, when for the first time interminable
columns of Russian war prisoners poured into Germany after the Battle of
Tannenberg, it seemed as if the stream would never end but that as soon
as one army was defeated and routed another would take its place. The
supply of soldiers which the gigantic Empire placed at the disposal of
the Czar seemed inexhaustible; new victims were always at hand for the
holocaust of war. How long could Germany hold out in this competition?
Would not the day finally have to come when, after the last victory
which the Germans would achieve, there would still remain reserve armies
in Russia to be mustered for the final battle? And what then? According
to human standards a Russian victory over Germany might be delayed but
it would have to come in the long run.

All the hopes that had been based on Russia were now lost. The Ally who
had sacrificed the most blood on the altar of their mutual interests had
come to the end of his resources and lay prostrate before his
unrelenting foe. A feeling of terror and dismay came over the Entente
soldiers who had hitherto been buoyed up by blind faith. They feared the
coming spring. For, seeing that hitherto they had failed to break the
Germans when the latter could concentrate only part of the fighting
strength on the Western Front, how could they count on victory now that
the undivided forces of that amazing land of heroes appeared to be
gathered for a massed attack in the West?

The shadow of the events which had taken place in South Tyrol, the
spectre of General Cadorna's defeated armies, were reflected in the
gloomy faces of the Entente troops in Flanders. Faith in victory gave
way to fear of defeat to come.

Then, on those cold nights, when one almost heard the tread of the
German armies advancing to the great assault, and the decision was being
awaited in fear and trembling, suddenly a lurid light was set aglow in
Germany and sent its rays into the last shell-hole on the enemy's front.
At the very moment when the German divisions were receiving their final
orders for the great offensive a general strike broke out in Germany.

At first the world was dumbfounded. Then the enemy propaganda began
activities once again and pounced on this theme at the eleventh hour.
All of a sudden a means had come which could be utilized to revive the
sinking confidence of the Entente soldiers. The probabilities of victory
could now be presented as certain, and the anxious foreboding in regard
to coming events could now be transformed into a feeling of resolute
assurance. The regiments that had to bear the brunt of the Greatest
German onslaught in history could now be inspired with the conviction
that the final decision in this war would not be won by the audacity of
the German assault but rather by the powers of endurance on the side of
the defence. Let the Germans now have whatever victories they liked, the
revolution and not the victorious army was welcomed in the Fatherland.

British, French and American newspapers began to spread this belief
among their readers while a very ably managed propaganda encouraged the
morale of their troops at the front.

'Germany Facing Revolution! An Allied Victory Inevitable!' That was the
best medicine to set the staggering Poilu and Tommy on their feet once
again. Our rifles and machine-guns could now open fire once again; but
instead of effecting a panic-stricken retreat they were now met with a
determined resistance that was full of confidence.

That was the result of the strike in the munitions factories. Throughout
the enemy countries faith in victory was thus revived and strengthened,
and that paralysing feeling of despair which had hitherto made itself
felt on the Entente front was banished. Consequently the strike cost the
lives of thousands of German soldiers. But the despicable instigators of
that dastardly strike were candidates for the highest public positions
in the Germany of the Revolution.

At first it was apparently possible to overcome the repercussion of
these events on the German soldiers, but on the enemy's side they had a
lasting effect. Here the resistance had lost all the character of an
army fighting for a lost cause. In its place there was now a grim
determination to struggle through to victory. For, according to all
human rules of judgment, victory would now be assured if the Western
front could hold out against the German offensive even for only a few
months. The Allied parliaments recognized the possibilities of a better
future and voted huge sums of money for the continuation of the
propaganda which was employed for the purpose of breaking up the
internal cohesion of Germany.

It was my luck that I was able to take part in the first two offensives
and in the final offensive. These have left on me the most stupendous
impressions of my life--stupendous, because now for the last time the
struggle lost its defensive character and assumed the character of an
offensive, just as it was in 1914. A sigh of relief went up from the
German trenches and dug-outs when finally, after three years of
endurance in that inferno, the day for the settling of accounts had
come. Once again the lusty cheering of victorious battalions was heard,
as they hung the last crowns of the immortal laurel on the standards
which they consecrated to Victory. Once again the strains of patriotic
songs soared upwards to the heavens above the endless columns of
marching troops, and for the last time the Lord smiled on his ungrateful
children.

In the midsummer of 1918 a feeling of sultry oppression hung over the
front. At home they were quarrelling. About what? We heard a great deal
among various units at the front. The War was now a hopeless affair, and
only the foolhardy could think of victory. It was not the people but the
capitalists and the Monarchy who were interested in carrying on. Such
were the ideas that came from home and were discussed at the front.

At first this gave rise to only very slight reaction. What did universal
suffrage matter to us? Is this what we had been fighting for during four
years? It was a dastardly piece of robbery thus to filch from the graves
of our heroes the ideals for which they had fallen. It was not to the
slogan, 'Long Live Universal Suffrage,' that our troops in Flanders once
faced certain death but with the cry, 'DEUTSCHLAND ÜBER ALLES IN DER
WELT'. A small but by no means an unimportant difference. And the
majority of those who were shouting for this suffrage were absent when
it came to fighting for it. All this political rabble were strangers to
us at the front. During those days only a fraction of these
parliamentarian gentry were to be seen where honest Germans
foregathered.

The old soldiers who had fought at the front had little liking for those
new war aims of Messrs. Ebert, Scheidemann, Barth, Liebknecht and
others. We could not understand why, all of a sudden, the shirkers
should abrogate all executive powers to themselves, without having any
regard to the army.

From the very beginning I had my own definite personal views. I
intensely loathed the whole gang of miserable party politicians who had
betrayed the people. I had long ago realized that the interests of the
nation played only a very small part with this disreputable crew and
that what counted with them was the possibility of filling their own
empty pockets. My opinion was that those people thoroughly deserved to
be hanged, because they were ready to sacrifice the peace and if
necessary allow Germany to be defeated just to serve their own ends. To
consider their wishes would mean to sacrifice the interests of the
working classes for the benefit of a gang of thieves. To meet their
wishes meant that one should agree to sacrifice Germany.

Such, too, was the opinion still held by the majority of the army. But
the reinforcements which came from home were fast becoming worse and
worse; so much so that their arrival was a source of weakness rather
than of strength to our fighting forces. The young recruits in
particular were for the most part useless. Sometimes it was hard to
believe that they were sons of the same nation that sent its youth into
the battles that were fought round Ypres.

In August and September the symptoms of moral disintegration increased
more and more rapidly, although the enemy's offensive was not at all
comparable to the frightfulness of our own former defensive battles. In
comparison with this offensive the battles fought on the Somme and in
Flanders remained in our memories as the most terrible of all horrors.

At the end of September my division occupied, for the third time, those
positions which we had once taken by storm as young volunteers. What a
memory!

Here we had received our baptism of fire, in October and November 1914.
With a burning love of the homeland in their hearts and a song on their
lips, our young regiment went into action as if going to a dance. The
dearest blood was given freely here in the belief that it was shed to
protect the freedom and independence of the Fatherland.

In July 1917 we set foot for the second time on what we regarded as
sacred soil. Were not our best comrades at rest here, some of them
little more than boys--the soldiers who had rushed into death for their
country's sake, their eyes glowing with enthusiastic love.

The older ones among us, who had been with the regiment from the
beginning, were deeply moved as we stood on this sacred spot where we
had sworn 'Loyalty and Duty unto Death'. Three years ago the regiment
had taken this position by storm; now it was called upon to defend it in
a gruelling struggle.

With an artillery bombardment that lasted three weeks the English
prepared for their great offensive in Flanders. There the spirits of the
dead seemed to live again. The regiment dug itself into the mud, clung
to its shell-holes and craters, neither flinching nor wavering, but
growing smaller in numbers day after day. Finally the British launched
their attack on July 31st, 1917.

We were relieved in the beginning of August. The regiment had dwindled
down to a few companies, who staggered back, mud-crusted, more like
phantoms than human beings. Besides a few hundred yards of shell-holes,
death was the only reward which the English gained.

Now in the autumn of 1918 we stood for the third time on the ground we
had stormed in 1914. The village of Comines, which formerly had served
us as a base, was now within the fighting zone. Although little had
changed in the surrounding district itself, yet the men had become
different, somehow or other. They now talked politics. Like everywhere
else, the poison from home was having its effect here also. The young
drafts succumbed to it completely. They had come directly from home.

During the night of October 13th-14th, the British opened an attack with
gas on the front south of Ypres. They used the yellow gas whose effect
was unknown to us, at least from personal experience. I was destined to
experience it that very night. On a hill south of Werwick, in the
evening of October 13th, we were subjected for several hours to a heavy
bombardment with gas bombs, which continued throughout the night with
more or less intensity. About midnight a number of us were put out of
action, some for ever. Towards morning I also began to feel pain. It
increased with every quarter of an hour; and about seven o'clock my eyes
were scorching as I staggered back and delivered the last dispatch I was
destined to carry in this war. A few hours later my eyes were like
glowing coals and all was darkness around me.

I was sent into hospital at Pasewalk in Pomerania, and there it was that
I had to hear of the Revolution.

For a long time there had been something in the air which was
indefinable and repulsive. People were saying that something was bound
to happen within the next few weeks, although I could not imagine what
this meant. In the first instance I thought of a strike similar to the
one which had taken place in spring. Unfavourable rumours were
constantly coming from the Navy, which was said to be in a state of
ferment. But this seemed to be a fanciful creation of a few isolated
young people. It is true that at the hospital they were all talking abut
the end of the war and hoping that this was not far off, but nobody
thought that the decision would come immediately. I was not able to read
the newspapers.

In November the general tension increased. Then one day disaster broke
in upon us suddenly and without warning. Sailors came in motor-lorries
and called on us to rise in revolt. A few Jew-boys were the leaders in
that combat for the 'Liberty, Beauty, and Dignity' of our National
Being. Not one of them had seen active service at the front. Through the
medium of a hospital for venereal diseases these three Orientals had
been sent back home. Now their red rags were being hoisted here.

During the last few days I had begun to feel somewhat better. The
burning pain in the eye-sockets had become less severe. Gradually I was
able to distinguish the general outlines of my immediate surroundings.
And it was permissible to hope that at least I would recover my sight
sufficiently to be able to take up some profession later on. That I
would ever be able to draw or design once again was naturally out of the
question. Thus I was on the way to recovery when the frightful hour
came.

My first thought was that this outbreak of high treason was only a local
affair. I tried to enforce this belief among my comrades. My Bavarian
hospital mates, in particular, were readily responsive. Their
inclinations were anything but revolutionary. I could not imagine this
madness breaking out in Munich; for it seemed to me that loyalty to the
House of Wittelsbach was, after all, stronger than the will of a few
Jews. And so I could not help believing that this was merely a revolt in
the Navy and that it would be suppressed within the next few days.

With the next few days came the most astounding information of my life.
The rumours grew more and more persistent. I was told that what I had
considered to be a local affair was in reality a general revolution. In
addition to this, from the front came the shameful news that they wished
to capitulate! What! Was such a thing possible?

On November 10th the local pastor visited the hospital for the purpose
of delivering a short address. And that was how we came to know the
whole story.

I was in a fever of excitement as I listened to the address. The
reverend old gentleman seemed to be trembling when he informed us that
the House of Hohen-zollern should no longer wear the Imperial Crown,
that the Fatherland had become a 'Republic', that we should pray to the
Almighty not to withhold His blessing from the new order of things and
not to abandon our people in the days to come. In delivering this
message he could not do more than briefly express appreciation of the
Royal House, its services to Pomerania, to Prussia, indeed, to the whole
of the German Fatherland, and--here he began to weep. A feeling of
profound dismay fell on the people in that assembly, and I do not think
there was a single eye that withheld its tears. As for myself, I broke
down completely when the old gentleman tried to resume his story by
informing us that we must now end this long war, because the war was
lost, he said, and we were at the mercy of the victor. The Fatherland
would have to bear heavy burdens in the future. We were to accept the
terms of the Armistice and trust to the magnanimity of our former
enemies. It was impossible for me to stay and listen any longer.
Darkness surrounded me as I staggered and stumbled back to my ward and
buried my aching head between the blankets and pillow.

I had not cried since the day that I stood beside my mother's grave.
Whenever Fate dealt cruelly with me in my young days the spirit of
determination within me grew stronger and stronger. During all those
long years of war, when Death claimed many a true friend and comrade
from our ranks, to me it would have appeared sinful to have uttered a
word of complaint. Did they not die for Germany? And, finally, almost in
the last few days of that titanic struggle, when the waves of poison gas
enveloped me and began to penetrate my eyes, the thought of becoming
permanently blind unnerved me; but the voice of conscience cried out
immediately: Poor miserable fellow, will you start howling when there
are thousands of others whose lot is a hundred times worse than yours?
And so I accepted my misfortune in silence, realizing that this was the
only thing to be done and that personal suffering was nothing when
compared with the misfortune of one's country.

So all had been in vain. In vain all the sacrifices and privations, in
vain the hunger and thirst for endless months, in vain those hours that
we stuck to our posts though the fear of death gripped our souls, and in
vain the deaths of two millions who fell in discharging this duty. Think
of those hundreds of thousands who set out with hearts full of faith in
their fatherland, and never returned; ought not their graves to open, so
that the spirits of those heroes bespattered with mud and blood should
come home and take vengeance on those who had so despicably betrayed the
greatest sacrifice which a human being can make for his country? Was it
for this that the soldiers died in August and September 1914, for this
that the volunteer regiments followed the old comrades in the autumn of
the same year? Was it for this that those boys of seventeen years of age
were mingled with the earth of Flanders? Was this meant to be the fruits
of the sacrifice which German mothers made for their Fatherland when,
with heavy hearts, they said good-bye to their sons who never returned?
Has all this been done in order to enable a gang of despicable criminals
to lay hands on the Fatherland?

Was this then what the German soldier struggled for through sweltering
heat and blinding snowstorm, enduring hunger and thirst and cold,
fatigued from sleepless nights and endless marches? Was it for this that
he lived through an inferno of artillery bombardments, lay gasping and
choking during gas attacks, neither flinching nor faltering, but
remaining staunch to the thought of defending the Fatherland against the
enemy? Certainly these heroes also deserved the epitaph:

   Traveller, when you come to Germany, tell the Homeland that we lie
   here, true to the Fatherland and faithful to our duty. (Note 13)
   
[Note 13. Here again we have the defenders of Thermopylae recalled as the
prototype of German valour in the Great War. Hitler's quotation is a
German variant of the couplet inscribed on the monument erected at
Thermopylae to the memory of Leonidas and his Spartan soldiers who fell
defending the Pass. As given by Herodotus, who claims that he saw the
inscription himself, the original text may be literally translated thus:

   Go, tell the Spartans, thou who passeth by,
   That here, obedient to their laws, we lie.]

And at Home? But--was this the only sacrifice that we had to consider?
Was the Germany of the past a country of little worth? Did she not owe a
certain duty to her own history? Were we still worthy to partake in the
glory of the past? How could we justify this act to future generations?

What a gang of despicable and depraved criminals!

The more I tried then to glean some definite information of the terrible
events that had happened the more my head became afire with rage and
shame. What was all the pain I suffered in my eyes compared with this
tragedy?

The following days were terrible to bear, and the nights still worse. To
depend on the mercy of the enemy was a precept which only fools or
criminal liars could recommend. During those nights my hatred
increased--hatred for the orignators of this dastardly crime.

During the following days my own fate became clear to me. I was forced
now to scoff at the thought of my personal future, which hitherto had
been the cause of so much worry to me. Was it not ludicrous to think of
building up anything on such a foundation? Finally, it also became clear
to me that it was the inevitable that had happened, something which I
had feared for a long time, though I really did not have the heart to
believe it.

Emperor William II was the first German Emperor to offer the hand of
friendship to the Marxist leaders, not suspecting that they were
scoundrels without any sense of honour. While they held the imperial
hand in theirs, the other hand was already feeling for the dagger.

There is no such thing as coming to an understanding with the Jews. It
must be the hard-and-fast 'Either-Or.'

For my part I then decided that I would take up political work.




CHAPTER VIII



THE BEGINNING OF MY POLITICAL ACTIVITIES


Towards the end of November I returned to Munich. I went to the depot of
my regiment, which was now in the hands of the 'Soldiers' Councils'. As
the whole administration was quite repulsive to me, I decided to leave
it as soon as I possibly could. With my faithful war-comrade,
Ernst-Schmidt, I came to Traunstein and remained there until the camp
was broken up. In March 1919 we were back again in Munich.

The situation there could not last as it was. It tended irresistibly to
a further extension of the Revolution. Eisner's death served only to
hasten this development and finally led to the dictatorship of the
Councils--or, to put it more correctly, to a Jewish hegemony, which
turned out to be transitory but which was the original aim of those who
had contrived the Revolution.

At that juncture innumerable plans took shape in my mind. I spent whole
days pondering on the problem of what could be done, but unfortunately
every project had to give way before the hard fact that I was quite
unknown and therefore did not have even the first pre-requisite
necessary for effective action. Later on I shall explain the reasons why
I could not decide to join any of the parties then in existence.

As the new Soviet Revolution began to run its course in Munich my first
activities drew upon me the ill-will of the Central Council. In the
early morning of April 27th, 1919, I was to have been arrested; but the
three fellows who came to arrest me did not have the courage to face my
rifle and withdrew just as they had arrived.

A few days after the liberation of Munich I was ordered to appear before
the Inquiry Commission which had been set up in the 2nd Infantry
Regiment for the purpose of watching revolutionary activities. That was
my first incursion into the more or less political field.

After another few weeks I received orders to attend a course of lectures
which were being given to members of the army. This course was meant to
inculcate certain fundamental principles on which the soldier could base
his political ideas. For me the advantage of this organization was that
it gave me a chance of meeting fellow soldiers who were of the same way
of thinking and with whom I could discuss the actual situation. We were
all more or less firmly convinced that Germany could not be saved from
imminent disaster by those who had participated in the November
treachery--that is to say, the Centre and the Social-Democrats; and also
that the so-called Bourgeois-National group could not make good the
damage that had been done, even if they had the best intentions. They
lacked a number of requisites without which such a task could never be
successfully undertaken. The years that followed have justified the
opinions which we held at that time.

In our small circle we discussed the project of forming a new party. The
leading ideas which we then proposed were the same as those which were
carried into effect afterwards, when the German Labour Party was
founded. The name of the new movement which was to be founded should be
such that of itself, it would appeal to the mass of the people; for all
our efforts would turn out vain and useless if this condition were
lacking. And that was the reason why we chose the name
'Social-Revolutionary Party', particularly because the social principles
of our new organization were indeed revolutionary.

But there was also a more fundamental reason. The attention which I had
given to economic problems during my earlier years was more or less
confined to considerations arising directly out of the social problem.
Subsequently this outlook broadened as I came to study the German policy
of the Triple Alliance. This policy was very largely the result of an
erroneous valuation of the economic situation, together with a confused
notion as to the basis on which the future subsistence of the German
people could be guaranteed. All these ideas were based on the principle
that capital is exclusively the product of labour and that, just like
labour, it was subject to all the factors which can hinder or promote
human activity. Hence, from the national standpoint, the significance of
capital depended on the greatness and freedom and power of the State,
that is to say, of the nation, and that it is this dependence alone
which leads capital to promote the interests of the State and the
nation, from the instinct of self-preservation and for the sake of its
own development.

On such principles the attitude of the State towards capital would be
comparatively simple and clear. Its only object would be to make sure
that capital remained subservient to the State and did not allocate to
itself the right to dominate national interests. Thus it could confine
its activities within the two following limits: on the one side, to
assure a vital and independent system of national economy and, on the
other, to safeguard the social rights of the workers.

Previously I did not recognize with adequate clearness the difference
between capital which is purely the product of creative labour and the
existence and nature of capital which is exclusively the result of
financial speculation. Here I needed an impulse to set my mind thinking
in this direction; but that impulse had hitherto been lacking.

The requisite impulse now came from one of the men who delivered
lectures in the course I have already mentioned. This was Gottfried
Feder.

For the first time in my life I heard a discussion which dealt with the
principles of stock-exchange capital and capital which was used for loan
activities. After hearing the first lecture delivered by Feder, the idea
immediately came into my head that I had now found a way to one of the
most essential pre-requisites for the founding of a new party.

To my mind, Feder's merit consisted in the ruthless and trenchant way in
which he described the double character of the capital engaged in
stock-exchange and loan transaction, laying bare the fact that this
capital is ever and always dependent on the payment of interest. In
fundamental questions his statements were so full of common sense that
those who criticized him did not deny that AU FOND his ideas were sound
but they doubted whether it be possible to put these ideas into
practice. To me this seemed the strongest point in Feder's teaching,
though others considered it a weak point.

It is not the business of him who lays down a theoretical programme to
explain the various ways in which something can be put into practice.
His task is to deal with the problem as such; and, therefore, he has to
look to the end rather than the means. The important question is whether
an idea is fundamentally right or not. The question of whether or not it
may be difficult to carry it out in practice is quite another matter.
When a man whose task it is to lay down the principles of a programme or
policy begins to busy himself with the question as to whether it is
expedient and practical, instead of confining himself to the statement
of the absolute truth, his work will cease to be a guiding star to those
who are looking about for light and leading and will become merely a
recipe for every-day iife. The man who lays down the programme of a
movement must consider only the goal. It is for the political leader to
point out the way in which that goal may be reached. The thought of the
former will, therefore, be determined by those truths that are
everlasting, whereas the activity of the latter must always be guided by
taking practical account of the circumstances under which those truths
have to be carried into effect.

The greatness of the one will depend on the absolute truth of his idea,
considered in the abstract; whereas that of the other will depend on
whether or not he correctly judges the given realities and how they may
be utilized under the guidance of the truths established by the former.
The test of greatness as applied to a political leader is the success of
his plans and his enterprises, which means his ability to reach the goal
for which he sets out; whereas the final goal set up by the political
philosopher can never be reached; for human thought may grasp truths and
picture ends which it sees like clear crystal, though such ends can
never be completely fulfilled because human nature is weak and
imperfect. The more an idea is correct in the abstract, and, therefore,
all the more powerful, the smaller is the possibility of putting it into
practice, at least as far as this latter depends on human beings. The
significance of a political philosopher does not depend on the practical
success of the plans he lays down but rather on their absolute truth and
the influence they exert on the progress of mankind. If it were
otherwise, the founders of religions could not be considered as the
greatest men who have ever lived, because their moral aims will never be
completely or even approximately carried out in practice. Even that
religion which is called the Religion of Love is really no more than a
faint reflex of the will of its sublime Founder. But its significance
lies in the orientation which it endeavoured to give to human
civilization, and human virtue and morals.

This very wide difference between the functions of a political
philosopher and a practical political leader is the reason why the
qualifications necessary for both functions are scarcely ever found
associated in the same person. This applies especially to the so-called
successful politician of the smaller kind, whose activity is indeed
hardly more than practising the art of doing the possible, as Bismarck
modestly defined the art of politics in general. If such a politician
resolutely avoids great ideas his success will be all the easier to
attain; it will be attained more expeditely and frequently will be more
tangible. By reason of this very fact, however, such success is doomed
to futility and sometimes does not even survive the death of its author.
Generally speaking, the work of politicians is without significance for
the following generation, because their temporary success was based on
the expediency of avoiding all really great decisive problems and ideas
which would be valid also for future generations.

To pursue ideals which will still be of value and significance for the
future is generally not a very profitable undertaking and he who follows
such a course is only very rarely understood by the mass of the people,
who find beer and milk a more persuasive index of political values than
far-sighted plans for the future, the realization of which can only take
place later on and the advantages of which can be reaped only by
posterity.

Because of a certain vanity, which is always one of the blood-relations
of unintelligence, the general run of politicians will always eschew
those schemes for the future which are really difficult to put into
practice; and they will practise this avoidance so that they may not
lose the immediate favour of the mob. The importance and the success of
such politicians belong exclusively to the present and will be of no
consequence for the future. But that does not worry small-minded people;
they are quite content with momentary results.

The position of the constructive political philosopher is quite
different. The importance of his work must always be judged from the
standpoint of the future; and he is frequently described by the word
WELTFREMD, or dreamer. While the ability of the politician consists in
mastering the art of the possible, the founder of a political system
belongs to those who are said to please the gods only because they wish
for and demand the impossible. They will always have to renounce
contemporary fame; but if their ideas be immortal, posterity will grant
them its acknowledgment.

Within long spans of human progress it may occasionally happen that the
practical politician and political philosopher are one. The more
intimate this union is, the greater will be the obstacles which the
activity of the politician will have to encounter. Such a man does not
labour for the purpose of satisfying demands that are obvious to every
philistine, but he reaches out towards ends which can be understood only
by the few. His life is torn asunder by hatred and love. The protest of
his contemporaries, who do not understand the man, is in conflict with
the recognition of posterity, for whom he also works.

For the greater the work which a man does for the future, the less will
he be appreciated by his contemporaries. His struggle will accordingly
be all the more severe, and his success all the rarer. When, in the
course of centuries, such a man appears who is blessed with success
then, towards the end of his days, he may have a faint prevision of his
future fame. But such great men are only the Marathon runners of
history. The laurels of contemporary fame are only for the brow of the
dying hero.

The great protagonists are those who fight for their ideas and ideals
despite the fact that they receive no recognition at the hands of their
contemporaries. They are the men whose memories will be enshrined in the
hearts of the future generations. It seems then as if each individual
felt it his duty to make retroactive atonement for the wrong which great
men have suffered at the hands of their contemporaries. Their lives and
their work are then studied with touching and grateful admiration.
Especially in dark days of distress, such men have the power of healing
broken hearts and elevating the despairing spirit of a people.

To this group belong not only the genuinely great statesmen but all the
great reformers as well. Beside Frederick the Great we have such men as
Martin Luther and Richard Wagner.

When I heard Gottfried Feder's first lecture on 'The Abolition of the
Interest-Servitude', I understood immediately that here was a truth of
transcendental importance for the future of the German people. The
absolute separation of stock-exchange capital from the economic life of
the nation would make it possible to oppose the process of
internationalization in German business without at the same time
attacking capital as such, for to do this would jeopardize the
foundations of our national independence. I clearly saw what was
developing in Germany and I realized then that the stiffest fight we
would have to wage would not be against the enemy nations but against
international capital. In Feder's speech I found an effective
rallying-cry for our coming struggle.

Here, again, later events proved how correct was the impression we then
had. The fools among our bourgeois politicians do not mock at us on this
point any more; for even those politicians now see--if they would speak
the truth--that international stock-exchange capital was not only the
chief instigating factor in bringing on the War but that now when the
War is over it turns the peace into a hell.

The struggle against international finance capital and loan-capital has
become one of the most important points in the programme on which the
German nation has based its fight for economic freedom and independence.

Regarding the objections raised by so-called practical people, the
following answer must suffice: All apprehensions concerning the fearful
economic consequences that would follow the abolition of the servitude
that results from interest-capital are ill-timed; for, in the first
place, the economic principles hitherto followed have proved quite fatal
to the interests of the German people. The attitude adopted when the
question of maintaining our national existence arose vividly recalls
similar advice once given by experts--the Bavarian Medical College, for
example--on the question of introducing railroads. The fears expressed
by that august body of experts were not realized. Those who travelled in
the coaches of the new 'Steam-horse' did not suffer from vertigo. Those
who looked on did not become ill and the hoardings which had been
erected to conceal the new invention were eventually taken down. Only
those blinds which obscure the vision of the would-be 'experts', have
remained. And that will be always so.

In the second place, the following must be borne in mind: Any idea may
be a source of danger if it be looked upon as an end in itself, when
really it is only the means to an end. For me and for all genuine
National-Socialists there is only one doctrine. PEOPLE AND FATHERLAND.

What we have to fight for is the necessary security for the existence
and increase of our race and people, the subsistence of its children and
the maintenance of our racial stock unmixed, the freedom and
independence of the Fatherland; so that our people may be enabled to
fulfil the mission assigned to it by the Creator.

All ideas and ideals, all teaching and all knowledge, must serve these
ends. It is from this standpoint that everything must be examined and
turned to practical uses or else discarded. Thus a theory can never
become a mere dead dogma since everything will have to serve the
practical ends of everyday life.

Thus the judgment arrived at by Gottfried Feder determined me to make a
fundamental study of a question with which I had hitherto not been very
familiar.

I began to study again and thus it was that I first came to understand
perfectly what was the substance and purpose of the life-work of the
Jew, Karl Marx. His CAPITAL became intelligible to me now for the first
time. And in the light of it I now exactly understood the fight of the
Social-Democrats against national economics, a fight which was to
prepare the ground for the hegemony of a real international and
stock-exchange capital.

In another direction also this course of lectures had important
consequences for me.

One day I put my name down as wishing to take part in the discussion.
Another of the participants thought that he would break a lance for the
Jews and entered into a lengthy defence of them. This aroused my
opposition. An overwhelming number of those who attended the lecture
course supported my views. The consequence of it all was that, a few
days later, I was assigned to a regiment then stationed at Munich and
given a position there as 'instruction officer'.

At that time the spirit of discipline was rather weak among those
troops. It was still suffering from the after-effects of the period when
the Soldiers' Councils were in control. Only gradually and carefully
could a new spirit of military discipline and obedience be introduced in
place of 'voluntary obedience', a term which had been used to express
the ideal of military discipline under Kurt Eisner's higgledy-piggledy
regime. The soldiers had to be taught to think and feel in a national
and patriotic way. In these two directions lay my future line of action.

I took up my work with the greatest delight and devotion. Here I was
presented with an opportunity of speaking before quite a large audience.
I was now able to confirm what I had hitherto merely felt, namely, that
I had a talent for public speaking. My voice had become so much better
that I could be well understood, at least in all parts of the small hall
where the soldiers assembled.

No task could have been more pleasing to me than this one; for now,
before being demobilized, I was in a position to render useful service
to an institution which had been infinitely dear to my heart: namely,
the army.

I am able to state that my talks were successful. During the course of
my lectures I have led back hundreds and even thousands of my fellow
countrymen to their people and their fatherland. I 'nationalized' these
troops and by so doing I helped to restore general discipline.

Here again I made the acquaintance of several comrades whose thought ran
along the same lines as my own and who later became members of the first
group out of which the new movement developed.




CHAPTER IX



THE GERMAN LABOUR PARTY


One day I received an order from my superiors to investigate the nature
of an association which was apparently political. It called itself 'The
German Labour Party' and was soon to hold a meeting at which Gottfried
Feder would speak. I was ordered to attend this meeting and report on
the situation.

The spirit of curiosity in which the army authorities then regarded
political parties can be very well understood. The Revolution had
granted the soldiers the right to take an active part in politics and it
was particularly those with the smallest experience who had availed
themselves of this right. But not until the Centre and the
Social-Democratic parties were reluctantly forced to recognize that the
sympathies of the soldiers had turned away from the revolutionary
parties towards the national movement and the national reawakening, did
they feel obliged to withdraw from the army the right to vote and to
forbid it all political activity.

The fact that the Centre and Marxism had adopted this policy was
instructive, because if they had not thus curtailed the 'rights of the
citizen'--as they described the political rights of the soldiers after
the Revolution--the government which had been established in November
1918 would have been overthrown within a few years and the dishonour and
disgrace of the nation would not have been further prolonged. At that
time the soldiers were on the point of taking the best way to rid the
nation of the vampires and valets who served the cause of the Entente in
the interior of the country. But the fact that the so-called 'national'
parties voted enthusiastically for the doctrinaire policy of the
criminals who organized the Revolution in November (1918) helped also to
render the army ineffective as an instrument of national restoration and
thus showed once again where men might be led by the purely abstract
notions accepted by these most gullible people.

The minds of the bourgeois middle classes had become so fossilized that
they sincerely believed the army could once again become what it had
previously been, namely, a rampart of German valour; while the Centre
Party and the Marxists intended only to extract the poisonous tooth of
nationalism, without which an army must always remain just a police
force but can never be in the position of a military organization
capable of fighting against the outside enemy. This truth was
sufficiently proved by subsequent events.

Or did our 'national' politicians believe, after all, that the
development of our army could be other than national? This belief might
be possible and could be explained by the fact that during the War they
were not soldiers but merely talkers. In other words, they were
parliamentarians, and, as such, they did not have the slightest idea of
what was passing in the hearts of those men who remembered the greatness
of their own past and also remembered that they had once been the first
soldiers in the world.

I decided to attend the meeting of this Party, which had hitherto been
entirely unknown to me. When I arrived that evening in the guest room of
the former Sternecker Brewery--which has now become a place of
historical significance for us--I found approximately 20-25 persons
present, most of them belonging to the lower classes.

The theme of Feder's lecture was already familiar to me; for I had heard
it in the lecture course I have spoken of. Therefore, I could
concentrate my attention on studying the society itself.

The impression it made upon me was neither good nor bad. I felt that
here was just another one of these many new societies which were being
formed at that time. In those days everybody felt called upon to found a
new Party whenever he felt displeased with the course of events and had
lost confidence in all the parties already existing. Thus it was that
new associations sprouted up all round, to disappear just as quickly,
without exercising any effect or making any noise whatsoever. Generally
speaking, the founders of such associations did not have the slightest
idea of what it means to bring together a number of people for the
foundations of a party or a movement. Therefore these associations
disappeared because of their woeful lack of anything like an adequate
grasp of the necessities of the situation.

My opinion of the 'German Labour Party' was not very different after I
had listened to their proceedings for about two hours. I was glad when
Feder finally came to a close. I had observed enough and was just about
to leave when it was announced that anybody who wished was free to open
a discussion. Thereupon, I decided to remain. But the discussion seemed
to proceed without anything of vital importance being mentioned, when
suddenly a 'professor' commenced to speak. He opened by throwing doubt
on the accuracy of what Feder had said, and then. after Feder had
replied very effectively, the professor suddenly took up his position on
what he called 'the basis of facts,' but before this he recommended the
young party most urgently to introduce the secession of Bavaria from
Prussia as one of the leading proposals in its programme. In the most
self-assured way, this man kept on insisting that German-Austria would
join Bavaria and that the peace would then function much better. He made
other similarly extravagant statements. At this juncture I felt bound to
ask for permission to speak and to tell the learned gentleman what I
thought. The result was that the honourable gentleman who had last
spoken slipped out of his place, like a whipped cur, without uttering a
sound. While I was speaking the audience listened with an expression of
surprise on their faces. When I was just about to say good-night to the
assembly and to leave, a man came after me quickly and introduced
himself. I did not grasp the name correctly; but he placed a little book
in my hand, which was obviously a political pamphlet, and asked me very
earnestly to read it.

I was quite pleased; because in this way, I could come to know about
this association without having to attend its tiresome meetings.
Moreover, this man, who had the appearance of a workman, made a good
impression on me. Thereupon, I left the hall.

At that time I was living in one of the barracks of the 2nd Infantry
Regiment. I had a little room which still bore the unmistakable traces
of the Revolution. During the day I was mostly out, at the quarters of
Light Infantry No. 41 or else attending meetings or lectures, held at
some other branch of the army. I spent only the night at the quarters
where I lodged. Since I usually woke up about five o'clock every morning
I got into the habit of amusing myself with watching little mice which
played around in my small room. I used to place a few pieces of hard
bread or crust on the floor and watch the funny little beasts playing
around and enjoying themselves with these delicacies. I had suffered so
many privations in my own life that I well knew what hunger was and
could only too well picture to myself the pleasure these little
creatures were experiencing.

So on the morning after the meeting I have mentioned, it happened that
about five o'clock I lay fully awake in bed, watching the mice playing
and vying with each other. As I was not able to go to sleep again, I
suddenly remembered the pamphlet that one of the workers had given me at
the meeting. It was a small pamphlet of which this worker was the
author. In his little book he described how his mind had thrown off the
shackles of the Marxist and trades-union phraseology, and that he had
come back to the nationalist ideals. That was the reason why he had
entitled his little book: "My Political Awakening". The pamphlet secured
my attention the moment I began to read, and I read it with interest to
the end. The process here described was similar to that which I had
experienced in my own case ten years previously. Unconsciously my own
experiences began to stir again in my mind. During that day my thoughts
returned several times to what I had read; but I finally decided to give
the matter no further attention. A week or so later, however, I received
a postcard which informed me, to my astonishment, that I had been
admitted into the German Labour Party. I was asked to answer this
communication and to attend a meeting of the Party Committee on
Wednesday next.

This manner of getting members rather amazed me, and I did not know
whether to be angry or laugh at it. Hitherto I had not any idea of
entering a party already in existence but wanted to found one of my own.
Such an invitation as I now had received I looked upon as entirely out
of the question for me.

I was about to send a written reply when my curiosity got the better of
me, and I decided to attend the gathering at the date assigned, so that
I might expound my principles to these gentlemen in person.

Wednesday came. The tavern in which the meeting was to take place was
the 'Alte Rosenbad' in the Herrnstrasse, into which apparently only an
occasional guest wandered. This was not very surprising in the year
1919, when the bills of fare even at the larger restaurants were only
very modest and scanty in their pretensions and thus not very attractive
to clients. But I had never before heard of this restaurant.

I went through the badly-lighted guest-room, where not a single guest
was to be seen, and searched for the door which led to the side room;
and there I was face-to-face with the 'Congress'. Under the dim light
shed by a grimy gas-lamp I could see four young people sitting around a
table, one of them the author of the pamphlet. He greeted me cordially
and welcomed me as a new member of the German Labour Party.

I was taken somewhat aback on being informed that actually the National
President of the Party had not yet come; so I decided that I would keep
back my own exposition for the time being. Finally the President
appeared. He was the man who had been chairman of the meeting held in
the Sternecker Brewery, when Feder spoke.

My curiosity was stimulated anew and I sat waiting for what was going to
happen. Now I got at least as far as learning the names of the gentlemen
who had been parties to the whole affair. The REICH National President
of the Association was a certain Herr Harrer and the President for the
Munich district was Anton Drexler.

The minutes of the previous meeting were read out and a vote of
confidence in the secretary was passed. Then came the treasurer's
report. The Society possessed a total fund of seven marks and fifty
pfennigs (a sum corresponding to 7s. 6d. in English money at par),
whereupon the treasurer was assured that he had the confidence of the
members. This was now inserted in the minutes. Then letters of reply
which had been written by the Chairman were read; first, to a letter
received from Kiel, then to one from Düsseldorf and finally to one from
Berlin. All three replies received the approval of all present. Then the
incoming letters were read--one from Berlin, one from Düsseldorf and one
from Kiel. The reception of these letters seemed to cause great
satisfaction. This increasing bulk of correspondence was taken as the
best and most obvious sign of the growing importance of the German
Labour Party. And then? Well, there followed a long discussion of the
replies which would be given to these newly-received letters.

It was all very awful. This was the worst kind of parish-pump clubbism.
And was I supposed to become a member of such a club?

The question of new members was next discussed--that is to say, the
question of catching myself in the trap.

I now began to ask questions. But I found that, apart from a few general
principles, there was nothing--no programme, no pamphlet, nothing at all
in print, no card of membership, not even a party stamp, nothing but
obvious good faith and good intentions.

I no longer felt inclined to laugh; for what else was all this but a
typical sign of the most complete perplexity and deepest despair in
regard to all political parties, their programmes and views and
activities? The feeling which had induced those few young people to join
in what seemed such a ridiculous enterprise was nothing but the call of
the inner voice which told them--though more intuitively than
consciously--that the whole party system as it had hitherto existed was
not the kind of force that could restore the German nation or repair the
damages that had been done to the German people by those who hitherto
controlled the internal affairs of the nation. I quickly read through
the list of principles that formed the platform of the party. These
principles were stated on typewritten sheets. Here again I found
evidence of the spirit of longing and searching, but no sign whatever of
a knowledge of the conflict that had to be fought. I myself had
experienced the feelings which inspired those people. It was the longing
for a movement which should be more than a party, in the hitherto
accepted meaning of that word.

When I returned to my room in the barracks that evening I had formed a
definite opinion on this association and I was facing the most difficult
problem of my life. Should I join this party or refuse?

From the side of the intellect alone, every consideration urged me to
refuse; but my feelings troubled me. The more I tried to prove to myself
how senseless this club was, on the whole, the more did my feelings
incline me to favour it. During the following days I was restless.

I began to consider all the pros and cons. I had long ago decided to
take an active part in politics. The fact that I could do so only
through a new movement was quite clear to me; but I had hitherto lacked
the impulse to take concrete action. I am not one of those people who
will begin something to-da