Mein Kampf
ADOLF HITLER
5
The World
War
As
A YOUNG SCAMP in my wild years, nothing had so grieved me as
having been born at a time which obviously erected its Halls of
Fame only to shopkeepers and government officials. The waves of
historic events seemed to have grown so smooth that the future
really seemed to belong only to the 'peaceful contest of
nations'; in other words, a cozy mutual swindling match with
the exclusion of violent methods of defense. The various
nations began to be more and more like private citizens who cut
the ground from under one another's feet, stealing each other's
customers and orders, trying in every way to get ahead of one
another, and staging this whole act amid a hue and cry as loud
as it is harmless. This development seemed not only to endure
but was expected in time (as was universally recommended) to
remodel the whole world into one big department store in whose
vestibules the busts of the shrewdest profiteers and the most
lamblike administrative officials would be garnered for all
eternity. The English could supply the merchants, the Germans
the administrative officials, and the Jews no doubt would have
to sacrifice themselves to being the owners, since by their own
admission they never make any money, but always 'pay,' and,
besides, speak the most languages.
Why couldn't
I have been born a hundred years earlier? Say at the time of
the Wars of Liberation when a man, even without a 'business,'
was really worth something?!
Thus I had
often indulged in angry thoughts concerning my earthly
pilgrimage, which, as it seemed to me, had begun too late, and
regarded the period 'of law and order' ahead of me as a mean
and undeserved trick of Fate. Even as a boy I was no
'pacifist,' and all attempts to educate me in this direction
came to nothing.
The Boer War
was like summer lightning to me.
Every day I
waited impatiently for the newspapers and devoured dispatches
and news reports, happy at the privilege of witnessing this
heroic struggle even at a distance.
The
Russo-Japanese War found me considerably more mature, but also
more attentive. More for national reasons I had already taken
sides, and in our little discussions at once sided with the
Japanese. In a defeat of the Russians I saw the defeat of
Austrian Slavdom.
Since then
many years have passed, and what as a boy had seemed to me a
lingering disease, I now felt to be the quiet before the storm.
As early as my Vienna period, the Balkans were immersed in that
livid sultriness which customarily announces the hurricane, and
from time to time a beam of brighter light flared up, only to
vanish again in the spectral darkness. But then came the Balkan
War and with it the first gust of wind swept across a Europe
grown nervous. The time which now followed lay on the chests of
men like a heavy nightmare, sultry as feverish tropic heat, so
that due to constant anxiety the sense of approaching
catastrophe turned at last to longing: let Heaven at last give
free rein to the fate which could no longer be thwarted. And
then the first mighty lightning flash struck the earth; the
storm was unleashed and with the thunder of Heaven there
mingled the roar of the World War batteries.
When the news
of the murder of Archduke Francis Ferdinand arrived in Munich
(I happened to be sitting at home and heard of it only-
vaguely), I was at first seized with worry that the bullets may
have been shot from the pistols of German students, who, out of
indignation at the heir apparent's continuous work of
Slavization, wanted to free the German people from this
internal enemy. What the consequence of this would have been
was easy to imagine: a new wave of persecutions which would now
have been 'justified' and 'explained' in the eyes of the whole
world. But when, soon afterward, I heard the names of the
supposed assassins, and moreover read that they had been
identified as Serbs, a light shudder began to run through me at
this vengeance of inscrutable Destiny.
The greatest
friend of the Slavs had fallen beneath the bullets of Slavic
fanatics.
Anyone with
constant occasion in the last years to observe the relation of
Austria to Serbia could not for a moment be in doubt that a
stone had been set rolling whose course could no longer be
arrested.
Those who
today shower the Viennese government with reproaches on the
form and content of the ultimatum it issued, do it an
injustice. No other power in the world could have acted
differently in the same situation and the same position. At her
southeastern border Austria possessed an inexorable and mortal
enemy who at shorter and shorter intervals kept challenging the
monarchy and would never have left off until the moment
favorable for the shattering of the Empire had arrived. There
was reason to fear that this would occur at the latest with the
death of the old Emperor; by then perhaps the old monarchy
would no longer be in a position to offer any serious
resistance. In the last few years the state had been so bound
up with the person of Francis Joseph that the death of this old
embodiment of the Empire was felt by the broad masses to be
tantamount to the death of the Empire itself. Indeed, it was
one of the craftiest artifices, particularly of the Slavic
policy, to create the appearance that the Austrian state no
longer owed its existence to anything but the miraculous and
unique skill of this monarch; this flattery was all the more
welcome in the Hofburg, since it corresponded not at all to the
real merits of the Emperor. The thorn hidden in these paeans of
praise remained undiscovered The rulers did not see, or perhaps
no longer wanted to see, that the more the monarchy depended on
the outstanding statecraft, as they put it, of this 'wisest
monarch' of all times, the more catastrophic the situation was
bound to become if one day Fate were to knock at his door, too,
demanding its tribute.
Was old
Austria even conceivable without the Emperor?!
Wouldn't the
tragedy which had once stricken Maria Theresa have been
repeated?
No, it is
really doing the Vienna circles an injustice to reproach them
with rushing into a war which might otherwise have been
avoided. It no longer could be avoided, but at most could have
been postponed for one or two years. But this was the curse of
German as well as Austrian diplomacy, that it had always
striven to postpone the inevitable reckoning, until at length
it was forced to strike at the most unfavorable hour. We can be
convinced that a further attempt to save peace would have
brought war at an even more unfavorable time.
No, those who
did not want this war had to have the courage to face the
consequences, which could have consisted only in the sacrifice
of Austria. Even then the war would have come, but no longer as
a struggle of all against ourselves, but in the form of a
partition of the Habsburg monarchy. And then they had to make
up their minds to join in, or to look on with empty hands and
let Fate run its course.
Those very
people, however, who today are loudest in cursing the beginning
of the war and offer the sagest opinions were those who
contributed most fatally to steering us into it.
For decades
the Social Democrats had carried on the most scoundrelly war
agitation against Russia, and the Center for religious reasons
had been most active in making the Austrian state the hinge and
pivot of Germany policy. Now we had to suffer the consequences
of this lunacy. What came had to come, and could no longer
under any circumstances be avoided. The guilt of the German
government was that in order to preserve peace it always missed
the favorable hours for striking, became entangled in the
alliance for the preservation of world peace, and thus finally
became the victim of a world coalition which countered the idea
of preserving world peace with nothing less than determination
for world war.
If the Vienna
government had given the ultimatum another milder form, this
would have changed nothing in the situation except at most one
thing, that this government would itself have been swept away
by the indignation of the people. For in the eyes of the broad
masses the tone of the ultimatum was far too gentle and by no
means too brutal, let alone too far-reaching Anyone who today
attempts to argue this away is either a forgetful blockhead or
a perfectly conscious swindler and liar
The struggle
of the year 1914 was not forced on the masses- no, by the
living God-it was desired by the whole people.
People wanted
at length to put an end to the general uncertainty. Only thus
can it be understood that more than two million German men and
boys thronged to the colors for this hardest of all struggles,
prepared to defend the flag with the last drop of their
blood.
To me those
hours seemed like a release from the painful feelings of my
youth. Even today I am not ashamed to say that, overpowered by
stormy enthusiasm, I fell down on my knees and thanked Heaven
from an overflowing heart for granting me the good fortune of
being permitted to live at this time.
A fight for
freedom had begun, mightier than the earth had ever seen; for
once Destiny had begun its course, the conviction dawned on
even the broad masses that this time not the fate of Serbia or
Austria was involved, but whether the German nation was to be
or not to be.
For the last
time in many years the people had a prophetic vision of its own
future. Thus, right at the beginning of the gigantic struggle
the necessary grave undertone entered into the ecstasy- of an
overflowing enthusiasm; for this knowledge alone made the
national uprising more than a mere blaze of straw The
earnestness was only too necessary; for in those days people in
general had not the faintest conception of the possible length
and duration of the struggle that was now beginning. They
dreamed of being home again that winter to continue and renew
their peaceful labors.
What a man
wants is what he hopes and believes. The overwhelming majority
of the nation had long been weary of the eternally uncertain
state of affairs; thus it was only too understandable that they
no longer believed in a peaceful conclusion of the
Austro-Serbian convict, but hoped for the final settlement.
I, too, was
one of these millions.
Hardly had
the news of the assassination become known in Munich than at
once two thoughts quivered through my brain: first, that at
last war would be inevitable; and, furthermore, that now the
Habsburg state would be compelled to keep its pact; for what I
had always most feared was the possibility that Germany herself
would some day, perhaps in consequence of this very alliance,
find herself in a conflict not directly caused by Austria, so
that the Austrian state for reasons of domestic policy would
not muster the force of decision to stand behind her ally. The
Slavic majority of the Empire would at once have begun to
sabotage any such intention on the part of the state, and would
always have preferred to smash the entire state to smithereens
than grant its ally the help it demanded. This danger was now
eliminated. The old state had to fight whether it wanted to or
not.
My own
position on the conflict was likewise very simple and clear;
for me it was not that Austria was fighting for some Serbian
satisfaction, but that Germany was fighting for her existence,
the German nation for life or death, freedom and future. The
time had come for Bismarck's work to fight; what the fathers
had once won in the battles from Weissenburg to Sedan and
Paris, young Germany now had to earn once more. If the struggle
were carried through to victory, our nation would enter the
circle of great nations from the standpoint of external power,
and only then could the German Reich maintain itself as a
mighty haven of peace without having, for the sake of peace, to
cut down on the daily bread of her children.
As a boy and
young man I had so often felt the desire to prove at least once
by deeds that for me national enthusiasm was no empty whim. It
often seemed to me almost a sin to shout hurrah perhaps without
having the inner right to do so; for who had the right to use
this word without having proved it in the place where all
playing is at an end and the inexorable hand of the Goddess of
Destiny begins to weigh peoples and men according to the truth
and steadfastness of their convictions? Thus my heart, like
that of a million others, overflowed with proud joy that at
last I would be able to redeem myself from this paralyzing
feeling. I had so often sung 'Deutschland uber Aloes' and
shouted Neil ' at the top of my lungs, that it seemed to me
almost a belated act of grace to be allowed to stand as a
witness in the divine court of the eternal judge and proclaim
the sincerity of this conviction. For from the first hour r was
convinced that in case of a war- which seemed to me
inevitable-in one way or another I would at once leave my
books. Likewise I knew that my place would then be where my
inner voice directed me.
I had left
Austria primarily for political reasons; what was more natural
than that, now the struggle had begun, I should really begin to
take account of this conviction. I did not want to fight for
the Habsburg state, but was ready at any time to die for my
people and for the Reich which embodied it
On the third
of August, I submitted a personal petition to His Majesty,
lying Ludwig III, with a request for permission to enter a
Bavarian regiment. The cabinet office certainly had plenty to
do in those days; so much the greater was my joy to receive an
answer to my request the very next day. With trembling hands I
opened the document; my request had been approved and I was
summoned to report to a Bavarian regiment. My joy and gratitude
knew no bounds. A few days later I was wearing the tunic which
I was not to doff until nearly six years later.
For me, as
for every German, there now began the greatest and most
unforgettable time of my earthly existence. Compared to the
events of this gigantic struggle, everything past receded to
shallow nothingness. Precisely in these days, with the tenth
anniversary of the mighty event approaching, I think back with
proud sadness on those first weeks of our people's heroic
struggle, in which Fate graciously allowed me to take part.
As though it
were yesterday, image after image passes before my eyes. I see
myself donning the uniform in the circle of my dear comrades,
turning out for the first time, drilling, etc., until the day
came for us to march off.
A single
worry tormented me at that time, me, as so many others: would
we not reach the front too late? Time and time again this alone
banished all my calm. Thus, in every cause for rejoicing at a
new, heroic victory, a slight drop of bitterness was hidden,
for every new victory seemed to increase the danger of our
coming too late.
At last the
day came when we left Munich to begin the fulfillment of our
duty. For the first time I saw the Rhine as we rode westward
along its quiet waters to defend it, the German stream of
streams, from the greed of the old enemy. When through the
tender veil of the early morning mist the Niederwald Monument
gleamed down upon us in the gentle first rays of the sun, the
old Watch on the Rhine roared out of the endless transport
train into the morning sky, and I felt as though my heart would
burst.
And then came
a damp, cold night in Flanders, through which we marched in
silence, and when the day began to emerge from the mists,
suddenly an iron greeting came whizzing at us over our heads,
and with a sharp report sent the little pellets flying between
our ranks, ripping up the wet ground; but even before the
little cloud had passed, from two hundred throats the first
hurrah rose to meet the first messenger of death. Then a
crackling and a roaring, a singing and a howling began, and
with feverish eyes each one of us was drawn forward, faster and
faster, until suddenly past turnip fields and hedges the fight
began, the fight of man against man. And from the distance the
strains of a song reached our ears, coming closer and closer,
leaping from company to company, and just as Death plunged a
busy hand into our ranks, the song reached us too and we passed
it along: 'Deutschland, Deutschland uber Alles, uber Alles in
der Welt!'
Four days
later we came back. Even our step had changed.
Seventeen-year-old boys now looked like men.
The
volunteers of the List Regiment may not have learned to fight
properly, but they knew how to die like old soldiers
This was the
beginning.
Thus it went
on year after year; but the romance of battle had been replaced
by horror. The enthusiasm gradually cooled and the exuberant
joy was stifled by mortal fear. The time came when every man
had to struggle between the instinct of self-preservation and
the admonitions of duty. I, too, was not spared by this
struggle. Always when Death was on the hunt, a vague something
tried to revolt, strove to represent itself to the weak body as
reason, yet it was only cowardice, which in such disguises
tried to ensnare the individual. A grave tugging and warning
set in, and often it was only the last remnant of conscience
which decided the issue. Yet the more this voice admonished one
to caution, the louder and more insistent its lures, the
sharper resistance grew until at last, after a long inner
struggle, consciousness of duty emerged victorious. By the
winter of 1915-16 this struggle had for me been decided. At
last my will was undisputed master. If in the first days I went
over the top with rejoicing and laughter, I was now calm and
determined. And this was enduring. Now Fate could bring on the
ultimate tests without my nerves shattering or my reason
failing.
The young
volunteer had become an old soldier.
And this
transformation had occurred in the whole army. It had issued
old and hard from the eternal battles, and as for those who
could not stand up under the storm-well, they were broken.
Now was the
time to judge this army. Now, after two or three years, during
which it was hurled from one battle into another, forever
fighting against superiority in numbers and weapons, suffering
hunger and bearing privations, now was the time to test the
quality of this unique army.
Thousands of
years may pass, but never will it be possible to speak of
heroism without mentioning the German army and the World War.
Then from the veil of the past the iron front of the gray steel
helmet will emerge, unwavering and unflinching, an immortal
monument. As long as there are Germans alive, they will
remember that these men were sons of their nation.
I was a
soldier then, and I didn't want to talk about politics. And
really it was not the time for it. Even today I harbor the
conviction that the humblest wagon-driver performed more
valuable services for the fatherland than the foremost among,
let us say, 'parliamentarians.' I had never hated these
bigmouths more than now when every red-blooded man with
something to say yelled it into the enemy's face or
appropriately left his tongue at home and silently did his duty
somewhere. Yes, in those days I hated all those politicians.
And if it had been up to me, a parliamentary pick-and-shovel
battalion would have been formed at once; then they could have
chewed the fat to their hearts' content without annoying, let
alone harming, honest, decent people.
Thus, at that
time I wanted to hear nothing of politics, but I could not help
taking a position on certain manifestations which after all did
affect the whole nations and particularly concerned us
soldiers.
There were
two things which then profoundly angered me and which I
regarded as harmful.
After the
very first news of victories, a certain section of the press,
slowly, and in a way which at first was perhaps unrecognizable
to many, began to pour a few drops of wormwood into the general
enthusiasm. This was done beneath the mask of a certain
benevolence and well-meaning, even of a certain solicitude.
They had misgivings about an excess of exuberance in the
celebration of the victories. They feared that in this form it
was unworthy of so great a nation and hence inappropriate. The
bravery and heroic courage of the German soldier were something
self-evident, they said, and people should not be carried away
too much by thoughtless outbursts of joy, if only for the sake
of foreign countries to whom a silent and dignified form of joy
appealed more than unbridled exultation, etc. Finally, we
Germans even now should not forget that the war was none of our
intention and therefore we should not be ashamed to confess in
an open and manly fashion that at any time we would contribute
our part to a reconciliation of mankind. For that reason it
would not be prudent to besmirch the purity of our army's deeds
by too much shouting, since the rest of the world would have
little understanding for such behavior. The world admired
nothing more than the modesty with which a true hero silently
and calmly forgets his deeds, for this was the gist of the
whole argument.
Instead of
taking one of these creatures by his long ears, tying him to a
long pole and pulling him up on a long cord, thus making it
impossible for the cheering nation to insult the aesthetic
sentiment of this knight of the inkpot, the authorities
actually began to issue remonstrances against ' unseemly '
rejoicing over victories.
It didn't
occur to them in the least that enthusiasm once scotched cannot
be reawakened at need. It is an intoxication and must be
preserved in this state. And how, without this power of
enthusiasm, should a country withstand a struggle which in all
likelihood would make the most enormous demands on the
spiritual qualities of the nation?
I knew the
psyche of the broad masses too well not to be aware that a high
'aesthetic' tone would not stir up the fire that was necessary
to keep the iron hot. In my eyes it was madness on the part of
the authorities to be doing nothing to intensify the glowing
heat of passion; and when they curtailed what passion was
fortunately present, that was absolutely beyond me.
The second
thing that angered me was the attitude which they thought fit
to take toward Marxism. In my eyes, this only proved that they
hadn't so much as the faintest idea concerning this pestilence.
In all seriousness they seemed to believe that, by the
assurance that parties were no longer recognized, they had
brought Marxism to understanding and restraint.
They failed
to understand that here no party was involved, but a doctrine
that must lead to the destruction of all humanity, especially
since this cannot be learned in the Jewified universities and,
besides, so many, particularly among our higher officials, due
to the idiotic conceit that is cultivated in them, don't think
it worth the trouble to pick up a book and learn something
which was not in their university curriculum. The most gigantic
upheaval passes these 'minds' by without leaving the slightest
trace, which is why state institutions for the most part lag
behind private ones. It is to them, by God, that the popular
proverb best applies: 'What the peasant doesn't know, he won't
eat.' Here, too, a few exceptions only confirm the rule.
It was an
unequaled absurdity to identify the German worker with Marxism
in the days of August, 1914. In those hours the German worker
had made himself free from the embrace of this venomous plague,
for otherwise he would never have been able to enter the
struggle. The authorities, however, were stupid enough to
believe that Marxism had now become national; a flash of genius
which only shows that in these long years none of these
official guides of the state had even taken the trouble to
study the essence of this doctrine, for if they had, such an
absurdity could scarcely have crept in.
Marxism,
whose goal is and remains the destruction of all non-Jewish
national states, was forced to look on in horror as, in the
July days of 1914, the German working class it had ensnared,
awakened and from hour to hour began to enter the service of
the fatherland with ever-increasing rapidity. In a few days the
whole mist and swindle of this infamous betrayal of the people
had scattered away, and suddenly the gang of Jewish leaders
stood there lonely and forsaken, as though not a trace remained
of the nonsense and madness which for sixty years they had been
funneling into the masses. It was a bad moment for the
betrayers of the German working class, but as soon as the
leaders recognized the danger which menaced them, they rapidly
pulled the tarn-cap ' of lies over their ears, and insolently
mimicked the national awakening.
But now the
time had come to take steps against the whole treacherous
brotherhood of they Jewish poisoners of the people. Now was the
time to deal with them summarily without the slightest
consideration for any screams and complaints that might arise.
In August, 1914, the whole Jewish jabber about international
solidarity had vanished at one stroke from the heads of the
German working class, and in its stead, only a few weeks later,
American shrapnel began to pour down the blessings of
brotherhood on the helmets of our march columns. It would have
been the duty of a serious government, now that the German
worker had found his way back to his nation, to exterminate
mercilessly the agitators who were misleading the nation.
If the best
men were dying at the front, the least we could do was to wipe
out the vermin.
Instead of this, His Majesty the Raiser himself stretched out
his hand to the old criminals, thus sparing the treacherous
murderers of the nation and giving them a chance to retrieve
themselves.
So nova the
viper could continue his work, more cautiously than before, but
all the more dangerously. While the honest ones were dreaming
of peace within their borders,l the perjuring criminals were
organizing the revolution.
That such
terrible half-measures should then be decided upon made me more
and more dissatisfied at heart; but at that time I would not
have thought it possible that the end of it all would be so
frightful.
What, then,
should have been done? The leaders of the whole movement should
at once have been put behind bars, brought to trial, and thus
taken off the nation's neck. All the implements of military
power should have been ruthlessly used for the extermination of
this pestilence. The parties should have been dissolved, the
Reichstag brought to its senses, with bayonets if necessary,
but, best of all, dissolved at once. Just as the Republic today
can dissolve parties, this method should have been used at that
time, with more reason. For the life and death of a whole
nation was at stake!
One question
came to the fore, however: can spiritual ideas be exterminated
by the sword? Can 'philosophies' be combated by the use of
brute force?
Even at that
time I pondered this question more than once: If we ponder
analogous cases, particularly on a religious basis, which can
be found in history, the following fundamental principle
emerges:
Conceptions
and ideas, as well as movements with a definite spiritual
foundation, regardless whether the latter is false or true,
can, after a certain point in their development, only be broken
with technical instruments of power if these physical weapons
are at the same time the support of a new kindling thought,
idea, or philosophy.
The
application of force alone, without the impetus of a basic
spiritual idea as a starting point, can never lead to the
destruction of an idea and its dissemination, except in the
form of a complete extermination of even the very last exponent
of the idea and the destruction of the last tradition. This,
however, usually means the disappearance of such a state from
the sphere of political importance, often for an indefinite
time and some-times forever; for experience shows that such a
blood sacrifice strikes the best part of the people, since
every persecution which occurs without a spiritual basis seems
morally unjustified and whips up precisely the more valuable
parts of a people in protest, which results in an adoption of
the spiritual content of the unjustly persecuted movement. In
many this occurs simply through a feeling of opposition against
the attempt to bludgeon down an idea by brute force.
As a result,
the number of inward supporters grows in proportion as the
persecution increases. Consequently, the complete annihilation
of the new doctrine can be carried out only through a process
of extermination so great and constantly increasing that in the
end all the truly valuable blood is drawn out of the people or
state in question. The consequence is that, though a so-called
'inner' purge can now take place, it will only be at the cost
of total impotence. Such a method will always prove vain in
advance if the doctrine to be combated has overstepped a
certain small circle.
Consequently,
here, too, as in all growth, the first period of childhood is
most readily susceptible to the possibility of extermination,
while with the mounting years the power of resistance increases
and only with the weakness of approaching old age cedes again
to new youth, though in another form and for different
reasons.
Indeed,
nearly all attempts to exterminate a doctrine and its
organizational expression, by force without spiritual
foundation, are doomed to failure, and not seldom end with the
exact opposite of the desired result for the following
reason:
The very
first requirement for a mode of struggle with the weapons of
naked force is and remains persistence. In other words: only
the continuous and steady application of the methods for
repressing a doctrine, etc., makes it possible for a plan to
succeed. But as soon as force wavers and alternates with
forbearance, not only will the doctrine to be repressed recover
again and again, but it will also be in a position to draw new
benefit from every persecution, since, after such a wave of
pressure has ebbed away, indignation over the suffering induced
leads new supporters to the old doctrine, while the old ones
will cling to it with greater defiance and deeper hatred than
before, and even schismatic heretics, once the danger has
subsided, will attempt to return to their old viewpoint. Only
in the steady and constant application of force lies the very
first prerequisite for success. This persistence, however, can
always and only arise from a definite spiritual conviction. Any
violence which does not spring from a firm, spiritual base,
will be wavering and uncertain. It lacks the stability which
can only rest in a fanatical outlook. It emanates from the
momentary energy and brutal determination of an individual, and
is therefore subject to the change of personalities and to
their nature and strength.
Added to this
there is something else:
Any
philosophy, whether of a religious or political nature- and
sometimes the dividing line is hard to determine-fights less
for the negative destruction of the opposing ideology than for
the positive promotion of its own. Hence its struggle is less
defensive than offensive. It therefore has the advantage even
in determining the goal, since this goal represents the victory
of its own idea, while, conversely, it is hard to determine
when the negative aim of the destruction of a hostile doctrine
may be regarded as achieved and assured. For this reason alone,
the philosophy's offensive will be more systematic and also
more powerful than the defensive against a philosophy, since
here, too, as always, the attack and not the defense makes the
decision. The fight against a spiritual power with methods of
violence remains defensive, however, until the sword becomes
the support, the herald and disseminator, of a new spiritual
doctrine.
Thus, in
summing up, we can establish the following:
Any attempt
to combat a philosophy with methods of violence will fail in
the end, unless the fight takes the form of attack for a new
spiritual attitude. Only in the struggle between two
philosophies can the weapon of brutal force, persistently and
ruthlessly applied lead to a decision for the side it
supports.
This remained
the reason for the failure of the struggle against Marxism.
This was why
Bismarck's Socialist legislation finally failed and had to
fail, in spite of everything. Lacking was the platform of a new
philosophy for whose rise the fight could have been waged. For
only the proverbial wisdom of high government officials will
succeed in believing that drivel about so-called 'state
authority' or 'law and order' could form a suitable basis for
the spiritual impetus of a life-and-death struggle.
Since a real
spiritual basis for this struggle was lacking, Bismarck had to
entrust the execution of his Socialist legislation to the
judgment and desires of that institution which itself was a
product of Marxist thinking. By entrusting the fate of his war
on the Marxists to the well-wishing of bourgeois democracy, the
Iron Chancellor set the wolf to mind the sheep.
All this was
only the necessary consequence of the absence of a basic new
anti-Marxist philosophy endowed with a stormy will to
conquer.
Hence the
sole result of Bismarck's struggle was a grave
disillusionment.
Were
conditions different during the World War or at its beginning?
Unfortunately not.
The more I
occupied myself with the idea of a necessary change in the
government's attitude toward Social Democracy as the momentary
embodiment of Marxism, the more I recognized the lack of a
serviceable substitute for this doctrine. What would be given
the masses if, just supposing, Social Democracy had been
broken? There was not one movement in existence which could
have been expected to succeed in drawing into its sphere of
influence the great multitudes of workers grown more or less
leaderless. It is senseless and more than stupid to believe
that the international fanatic who had left the class party
would now at once join a bourgeois party, in other words, a new
class organization. For, unpleasant as it may seem to various
organizations, it cannot be denied that bourgeois politicians
largely take class division quite for granted as long as it
does not begin to work out to their political disadvantage.
The denial of
this fact only proves the effrontery, and also the stupidity,
of the liars.
Altogether,
care should be taken not to regard the masses as stupider than
they are. In political matters feeling often decides more
correctly than reason. The opinion that the stupid
international attitude of the masses is sufficient proof of the
unsoundness of the masses' sentiments can be thoroughly
confuted by the simple reminder that pacifist democracy is no
less insane, and that its exponents originate almost
exclusively in the bourgeois camp. As long as millions of the
bourgeoisie still piously worship their Jewish democratic press
every morning, it very ill becomes these gentlemen to make
jokes about the stupidity of the 'comrade' who, in the last
analysis, only swallows down the same garbage, though in a
different form. In both cases the manufacturer is one and the
same Jew.
Good care
should be taken not to deny things that just happen to be true.
The fact that the class question is by no means exclusively a
matter of ideal problems, as, particularly before the
elections, some people would like to pretend, cannot be denied.
The class arrogance of a large part of our people, and to an
even greater extent, the underestimation of the manual worker,
are phenomena which do not exist only in the imagination of the
moonstruck.
Quite aside
from this, however, it shows the small capacity for thought of
our so-called 'intelligentsia' when, particularly in these
circles, it is not understood that a state of affairs which
could not prevent the growth of a plague, such as Marxism
happens to be, will certainly not be able to recover what has
been lost.
The
'bourgeois' parties, as they designate themselves, will never
be able to attach the 'proletarian' masses to their camp, for
here two worlds oppose each other, in part naturally and in
part artificially divided, whose mutual relation 1 can only be
struggle. The younger will be victorious-and this is
Marxism.
Indeed, a
struggle against Social Democracy in the year 1914 was
conceivable, but how long this condition would be maintained,
in view of the absence of any substitute, remained
doubtful.
Here there
was a great gap.
I was of this
opinion long before the War, and for this reason could not make
up my mind to join one of the existing parties. In the course
of events of the World War, I was reinforced in this opinion by
the obvious impossibility of taking up a ruthless struggle
against Social Democracy, owing to this very lack of a movement
which would have had to be more than a 'parliamentary'
party.
With my
closer comrades I often expressed myself openly on this
point.
And now the
first ideas came to me of later engaging in political
activity.
Precisely
this was what caused me often to assure the small circle of my
friends that after the War, I meant to be a speaker in addition
to my profession.
I believe
that I was very serious about this.
Index
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