Polarities in the Evolution of Mankind
GA 197
8 November 1920, Stuttgart
Lecture IX
Today we shall base ourselves on facts relating to the nature of human beings and then make the transition to certain guiding principles in world history.
We have already considered the rhythmical alternation between sleeping and waking that human beings experience within a twenty-four hour period and have done so from many different points of view. Today I want to take a point of view that has so far been used less frequently in considering this alternation between sleeping and waking.
We know that there are three main aspects to a human being. One aspect is the head organization. Here, we have first of all the sensory organism which faces the outside world. The actual brain organism lies more on the inside. We know of course that this is only an approximate way of looking at these things. We cannot simply divide the human being into sections according to the space occupied. We have to be clear in our minds that the nerves and senses merely have their main concentration in the head and that they are in fact present everywhere in the human being. Everything said in this respect applies to the whole human being. We base our characterization on the part where the main concentration lies, i.e. the head. So we have the sensory organism facing the outside and the brain organism situated inside.
The question is, what happens to the sensory organism and the brain organism when a human being changes from the waking state—which you are familiar with, perhaps not in depth but at least in outer terms—to the sleeping state? As you know, the sensory organism ceases to be active. The brain organism can be observed in so far as our dream life shines into our souls, in a way. If you consider this dream life you will be able to say that it presents you with a kind of surrounding scenery that in some respects is similar to the outside world you Perceive with the senses. It contains images from the outside world you perceive with the senses. Human beings know very well when they are awake, that dream life presents them with images that, in a way, derive from the outside world we perceive with the senses. When we then take a closer look at the dream world, considering it in an unbiased way, we find that the dream images are connected—that they relate to each other; they interrelate in a way that is as definite as the interrelations and connections that exist in our waking thoughts, though these tend to be more imageless. It may be said, however, that whereas human beings have full control of the way thoughts are connected in the imageless thinking of their waking life, and are able to use their will to connect one thought with another, this does not apply in the interplay of dream images. Dream images have their own order. Human beings are passive where they are concerned. If we then reflect on the way in which dream images follow each other we find that it is as if the phenomena of ordinary thinking proceed in a watered-down way, as if they lack drive and will. Residues of sensory and also of thought life can still be traced in dream life. It will be evident from everything we discover as we consider our dream life—and spiritual science will be able to establish this beyond all doubt—that the human brain, which in a way is the physical basis of our life of ideas, must have undergone a change from the way it was in the waking state. In the waking state the situation is that our will gives us control of the way thoughts follow each other. In our dream life we have no such control. What is more, our senses have ceased to act and our dream life only contains images that echo the life of the senses. The life of the senses has therefore also been watered down.
The question we want to ask ourselves today is what kind of changes the human brain had undergone. If you take an unbiased view you will have to agree that spiritual science is right when it says that the brain acts like a sense organ when we dream. A sense organ receives impressions of the outside world and immediately processes them, at least to some extent. The way a sense organ faces the outside world does not involve an element of will, however. If you consider the way the sense organs face the outside world and compare this with the dream state you will find that when the brain acts as the physical basis of dreaming—take it as a working hypothesis, if you like, that it provides the physical basis for dreaming—it has come to resemble a sense organ. It has become more of a sense organ than it is in the waking state; or we may also say that it is not a sense organ when we are awake for it shows none of the properties of a sense organ in that state.
Now we do not have far to go to understand what happens in dreamless sleep. Dreams hold a middle position between waking and sleeping. If the brain becomes more like a sense organ even when we are dreaming, it must do so to an even greater extent when we are fully asleep. The way we are constituted as human beings today we are not in a position to make use of this sense organ in normal life. There was, however, a time in the history of humankind when human beings were able to use the brain as a sense organ to a very considerable degree. In a way, however, the brain always becomes a sense organ between going to sleep and waking up. We know that, between going to sleep and waking up again, the real human being—the human soul and spirit—is in the outside world. We will not take time at this point to consider the nature of this outside world; we merely need to understand clearly that the essential soul and spirit of the human being is then in an outside world of soul and spirit. The physical world we see around us between waking up and going to sleep does not reveal its spiritual and soul ingredients. In the state which pertains between going to sleep and waking up, the human being is in the outside world which has its soul and spirit aspect. Today the constitution of human beings is such that they experience themselves unconsciously in the outside world of soul and spirit.
This soul and spirit environment in which we find ourselves during sleep was the actual world in those far distant times where the original wisdom of humankind had its origin. An echo of those times is still to be found in the Vedic writings, in Vedanta philosophy—in short in the wisdom that was revealed in the ancient Orient. Looking back to those times we find exactly what those early people of the ancient Orient experienced in the outside world between going to sleep and waking up. For them, the brain was still very much a sense organ when they were asleep. It was a sense organ, however, which did not permit them to think at the same time as they made sensory perceptions. When the people of the ancient Orient were in the world of soul and spirit they were actually able to perceive what they experienced between going to sleep and waking up. In a way this was reflected in their brains, which had become sense organs. They were however unable to think whilst they were in that condition. They had to wait until they were awake, as it were, before they were able to think the things that they had perceived. We actually have outer evidence that things were the way I have just described. You only need to try and enter into anything that still remains of ancient oriental culture and you will find that the wisdom of that culture took the form of representing the universe perceptible to the senses from a spiritual point of view. Astrology, now a mere caricature, was living wisdom in those times. Most of that ancient wisdom was based on the revelations of the stars, the revelations of the night sky, i.e. on things hidden from view between waking up and going to sleep. Human beings experienced these things between going to sleep and waking up. They found themselves in the outer world and their souls and spirits experienced their relationship with the heavenly bodies. When they woke up, their brains changed from being sense organs to a state partly similar to that of our own brains—except that their brains were constituted in such a way that when they were awake they were able to remember what they had experienced during sleep. The things they remembered lit up in their minds as instinctive Imaginations. As people went through their daily lives in the ancient Orient they were able to deflect their inner attention from the sense-perceptible world around them and focus it on the great illuminating pictures their souls perceived as a memory of their night-time experiences. Those were the original oriental Imaginations. Echoes of them are to be found in the Veda and in Vedanta philosophy and literature.
What image did the people of those times have of themselves? It certainly was not the kind of description of the human being that is given in anatomy or physiology today, which is based on the evidence of the senses concerning outer form. At that time human beings experienced themselves as soul and spirit among all the other things they experienced in the outside world between going to sleep and waking up. They experienced a cosmos that was soul and spirit, and themselves as soul and spirit within that cosmos. Exactly how did they experience themselves? They perceived themselves as their own ideal model. Please pay particular attention to these words. When an individual living in those times had an illuminating Imagination of what he had experienced in his sleep, he saw himself as the ideal model of himself and was able to say to himself: ‘My ideal model looks like this. This model contains specific models, as it were, of the inside of my head, of my lungs, liver and so on.’ People did not have the experience of themselves that we are given on the basis of modern anatomy and physiology, i.e. in terms of organs perceptible to the outer senses. They had experience of the ideal model, the idea out of which the organs perceptible to the senses are created. Human beings had the experience of being heavenly and divine spirits—the heavenly and divine ideal of an earthly human being. They were therefore less interested in the earthly human being than they were in the heavenly and divine ideal.
This whole complex of experiences also led to something else. It helped people to realize that they had, in fact, been those heavenly and divine ideals before they were conceived or born as physical human beings. In ancient oriental times human beings were so constituted that they had the experience of being divine and heavenly human beings, and at the same time experienced themselves as they had been before they became earthly. That is the essential point of ancient oriental cultures. Human beings experienced what they had been before they entered into physical existence on earth. Their conviction of this was only instinctive, but it did give them the firm conviction that they had existed before they came to earth and had descended from a spiritual world into the world of the physical senses. It is a forgotten characteristic of the ancient oriental religions that they were very much concerned with life before birth, and presented life on earth as a continuation of life in heaven.
I have already said on another occasion, and from another point of view, that on the whole our time no longer has the kind of awareness that belonged to those times. We have a word we use to express that death is not the end of life, the word 'immortality', deathlessness. We do not have a word to express that the beginning of an earth life is not the beginning of life altogether. There is no word similar to `immortality' that refers to the time before birth. We ought to have the term ‘unbornness’. If we had that word, and if it were as alive to us as the word 'immortality', we would be able to enter into the state of soul that people had in the ancient Orient.
If you were to put yourself in the state of soul of someone living in the ancient Orient you would be able to say: For him, life on earth did not merit much attention, for it was merely an image of life in the realm of the spirit. Nor did the people of the ancient Orient take themselves very seriously as physical human beings. The human being walking around on this earth was merely the image of a heavenly human being and it was this which largely occupied people's minds. The eternal aspect of the human being was a fact that was immediately apparent to those orientals, for it came to them as an illumination, as I have said. In daytime life, during their waking hours, they had the memory of their night-time life. To gain a mental image of such a state of soul we have to go back to the ancient Orient.
The great culture of the ancient Orient goes back to far distant times. Any of it still to be found in books, even in the glorious Veda, in Vedanta philosophy, is merely a faint echo. To see the contents of that ancient oriental wisdom in their pure original form we would have to go a long way back to a much earlier period than that of the Veda. This can only be done with the aid of spiritual science. In that ancient oriental culture the whole of life on earth was illumined by insight into the spiritual world—an insight that, whilst it may have been instinctive, was also sublime. This culture then fell into decadence. If you take a good look at oriental culture as it essentially is today you will find that the underlying impulse is still to focus attention on the divine human being. Echoes of this underlying trend are to be found even in Rabindranath Tagore's superficialities. Tagore is entirely immersed in a later, decadent culture but, as I said, the underlying trend is still there in his writings, which in part are of tremendous interest and significance though basically completely superficial. An example are the essays collected in his book on nationalism.62Tagore, Sir Rabindranath, Nationalism (also translated into German). When we look to the Orient, therefore, we see an ancient, sublime, instinctive culture with a marked emphasis on life before birth. And we also see the gradual decline of what originally was a sublime culture. The decline reveals an inability to take up the mission of modern humanity, to enter properly into the existence we have between birth and death. In ancient times the people of the Orient were given the ideal image of the human being. They saw life in the physical, sense-perceptible world as a reflection of that ideal. This heavenly and divine ideal had been full of life and luminosity. Gradually it darkened and became obscured and all that was left was a shadow image. By now it has faded completely. A shadow image remained of something that once presented itself to the soul as alight and alive, the ideal image the human being had of himself as soul and spirit, part of a whole cosmos of soul and spirit.
A certain impotence also formed part of oriental nature. This is something of which we must take special note if we want to live in accord with our age. Orientals were left with a certain inability to observe the human being whose image is perceived during the time between birth and death. Orientals had no real interest in this in the past, not even when what they came face to face with was not a substitute but something quite different—a human being who was both heavenly and physical. Even today they are not really interested in human beings the way they are between birth and death. It was left to another culture to consider the true nature of the human being here in the world of the senses between birth and death. It was left to a culture which I should like to call the culture of the Middle. Historically this culture of the Middle first appeared during the latter part of the ancient Greek period. Original Greek antiquity still echoed ancient oriental wisdom. Later the element began to appear which I am now going to characterize as the culture of the ‘Middle’ or the ‘Centre’.
The culture of the Middle came up from a southerly direction and spread through the late Greek and then, particularly, the Roman world. Vision was the characteristic of the oriental culture I have described. The element that came up from the south, spreading through the late Greek world and assuming its true form in the Roman world—finally becoming the culture of Middle—came to be a culture based on law, dialectics and intellectual thinking. It came to be a culture not of visionaries but of thinkers. This intellectual culture has a particular capacity for considering the human being between birth and death. It went through preliminary stages in the late Greek period, grew tough and indeed brutal in the Roman Empire, and was kept alive in the language of ancient Rome; the Latin language, the language used by scientists right into the Middle Ages. This dialectical and intellectual culture reached its high point at the turn of the 18th to the 19th century. That was the time of Schiller, Goethe, Herder and also the philosophers Fichte, Schelling and Hegel. Consider the characteristic nature of those great minds and you will see that I am right in what I am saying.
Take Fichte, Schelling, even Goethe. What made them great? Their greatness and significance has to do with perception of the human being between birth and death. They demanded that the human being must be perceived and understood as a whole. Take Hegelian philosophy, for example. You will find that great emphasis is put on the spiritual nature of the human being. The spirit is however only considered in so far as the human being lives between birth and death-Hegel never considered the pre-birth existence of a heavenly and divine human being. He presented a historical approach to everything that happened among human beings here on earth, always in so far as they were human beings living between birth and death. You will find nothing about the intervention of powers from the world in which human beings live between death and rebirth. It is as if all this had been erased from that great culture, for its mission was to emphasize very clearly that here, in the life between birth and death, human beings have soul and spirit as well as a physical body. That culture had its limits, however, in that it was not possible to look up to a life in the spirit. The soul principle that goes beyond birth and death, the eternal element, was given tremendous emphasis particularly by Hegel, but also by all other great thinkers, especially in Germany. Yet they only took account of it in so far as it came to revelation between birth and death; they completely lacked the ability to see into life eternal as it comes to revelation before birth and again after death. When people spoke of a human being independent of the body, they were using an original tradition that had not welled up from their own perception. It was mere tradition. In the intellectual life of Central Europe at that time, tremendous perceptive powers had been developed that focused on the soul and spirit of human beings, but at the same time also on their physical bodies. These tremendous powers did not however extend beyond the life between birth and death.
In the West all kinds of new beginnings were emerging for a different kind of life that will evolve in times to come, when a spiritual Principle that is free of the body will come into life in a different way. Let us recall—how did the people of the ancient Orient let the spiritual element enter into their lives? They remembered in the daytime the things they had experienced at night, when they had been outside their bodies, between going to sleep and waking up. This will be different in times to come. Today we have merely the early signs, the preliminary stages of this. Between waking up and going to sleep human beings do not merely have experience of the things of which they are conscious. Little of what we actually experience is at present coming to conscious awareness. The truth is that down below In our human nature we experience immeasurably more than we are able to hold in awareness. Some people already have an idea of this, particularly in the West. Thus William James63James, William, American psychologist and pragmatic philosopher. was speaking of a ‘subconscious’ or ‘unconscious’ because he had an inkling of this, but none of these people have so far been able to achieve full insight. Everything said on the subject is like the babbling of infants, but the idea is there. In the ancient Orient experience of the cosmic soul and spirit entered into awareness that had been gained when free of the body. The time will come when the unconscious contents—experienced in the depth of human nature—will rise up into awareness for the people of the Western world. Imaginations will also arise. Association psychology as it is practised today is a nonsense, but anyone who has studied the different psychologies of the Western world, today, can see that it is a preparatory stage.
In time to come something that came to the people of the Middle only as a revelation of human experience between birth and death, will reveal its eternal aspect through the special faculties developed in the West.
Down below we have the element that will live in the spiritual world after death. Remember what I have told you about these things on different occasions and from different points of view. I have said that the human head is the outcome of the previous life on earth. The other parts of the human being will be the head in the next life on earth. Those other parts of the human being may be flesh and blood, muscle, skin and bone as we see them today, but in essence they contain the germ of what will be the head during the next incarnation. They therefore relate to the time after death. This connection with the time after death will be revealed and brought to conscious awareness in the humanity of the future. The early, primitive stages of such a humanity are already present in the West. In future the inner soul and spirit will be imaginatively perceived, just as the soul and spirit in the world outside human beings were perceived at an instinctively imaginative level in prehistoric times. The difference will be that the revelation of these inner aspects will come to full awareness, whereas the people of the ancient Orient received revelations that were more instinctive and came only dimly to awareness.
What are the early signs to be seen today? The first signs are that in these Western regions people are very much inclined towards materialism. In time to come, the spirit will be revealed out of physical human substance. Because of this the Western world is tending to become extremely materialistic. That is the source of the materialism that is predominantly a Western product and, coming from the West, has overrun the Middle and is spreading to the East.
The culture of the Middle is not materialistic by nature. We might nature call it physical and spiritual, because the view taken of the of the human being is such that a balance is maintained between turning the eye to the physical aspect and turning it to the spiritual aspect. German philosophers, Goethe and Schiller have always given equal validity to body and spirit, as it were. In the West the spirit is a matter for the future; at present attention focuses on the body. Yet everything is in a state of flux in human evolution and this understanding of the body, this materialism, will one day become spiritualism. Only this spiritualism will have quite a different source than the spiritualism of the ancient Orient, and above all it will be conscious.
So you see the peculiar distribution of the three different human configurations over the world—I have discussed other aspects of this before. In the East, human beings once saw their own heavenly and spiritual image in themselves. In the Middle, human beings see themselves as inhabitants of the earth endowed with soul and spirit as well as a physical body. In the West today, human beings see themselves as merely physical; it is to be their mission, however, to develop faculties out of this physical human body that will be the spiritual content of human awareness in time to come. The early signs of this are already apparent.
The human beings of the Middle are held as in a vice between East and West. The East originally had a very advanced culture but it has fallen into decadence. In the West a great culture is to come, and the first signs are there, but at present people are still entirely caught up in the material world. In the Middle a culture has evolved that, I think I can say, holds the balance between the two. On the one hand we have the clear dialectical thinking of Schiller's letters on aesthetic education, for instance. This way of thinking goes to a point where it does not yet become subject to the superficiality of modern science but still retains a personal human element. On the other hand we have pictures of human social life like those in Goethe's Fairy Tale of the Green Snake and the Beautiful Lily.64‘Das Märchen von der griinen Schlange und der Lilie’ (Tale of the green Snake and the Lily) in Unterhaltungen deutscher Ausgewanderten 1795, Weimarer Ausgabe, 18. Bd., S. 225 ff. This approach does achieve pictures or images, but it does not take them to a point where they become perceptions.
The people of the Middle have therefore also been given the mission to take the insights that their particular faculties have given them into the nature of the human being between birth and death, and to extend them through direct perception. The human being is thus seen as soul and spirit as well as a physical body, but this is then extended by immediately ascending to the wisdom of the mysteries. By developing the same faculties that have rescued soul and spirit, accepting their existence as well as that of the physical body, and by letting clear thinking develop into Imagination, Inspiration and Intuition, human beings rise again to the spiritual world in which they live between death and rebirth. Here in the physical world we will only come to experience the total illumination those faculties can give, once they have been developed, if we consider the problem of freedom. In my Philosophy of Freedom I have therefore concentrated entirely on that particular problem. There it was of course necessary to use this faculty, though merely to deal with earthly problems. If it is developed further, however, it will raise our horizons to include the world that lies beyond birth and death.
You see that in a sense the world also shows three stages of evolution: in the ancient Orient an instinctive wisdom, in the Middle a certain dialectical and intellectual life, and in the West today still materialism with the spiritualism of the future to be born out of it. In the ancient Orient everything depended on that instinctive wisdom. Political life as we know it did not yet exist. The people who presided over the mysteries also set the tone for political and economic life. Greatness for the people of the ancient Orient lay in life of the spirit that developed instinctively. Political and economic life depended on this life in the spirit. The life style of the European Middle did, of course, originally come from the South; its first beginnings go back as far as Egypt. The life style that evolved in the Middle reached the point where the state, the political element, was thought through dialectically. Political life—the state—really developed in this culture of the Middle. The life of the spirit became mere tradition. In the West, finally, in Puritanism, for instance, the spiritual element became something entirely abstract, something that could become sectarian, and people let this illumine their ordinary everyday physical lives.
The European Middle therefore provided the soil where above all political ideas were developed further by Wilhelm von Humboldt65Humboldt, Karl Wilhelm von, Ideen zu einen Versuch, die Grenzen der Wirksamkeit des Staates zu bestimmen (Ideas for an attempt to determine the limits of effectiveness for a political state) 1792. for instance and even took such marvellous form as the 'social community' in Schiller's letters on aesthetic education. They were presented to human minds in the grandiose pictures created by Goethe; his ‘Tale’ of the Green Snake and the Beautiful Lily basically presents the idea of the state.
In the West, ideas that have so far developed only in relation to material things, to economics, will one day have to evolve into the threefold social order. The idea of the state has merely been inherited from the culture of the Middle. Woodrow Wilson, who used to be very famous, has written a large volume on the subject of the state.66Wilson, Thomas Woodrow, The State. Elements of Historic and Practical Politics (also translated into German). This contains nothing that has originated in the West; all it does is repeat the theories relating to the body politic that have been developed in the Middle, including specific ideas. The book has even been translated into German, because in Germany, too, Woodrow Wilson was considered a great man for a time.
It may therefore be said that the idea of a threefold social organism which is present in our minds has evolved in three historical stages. In the ancient Orient instinctive ideals became the life of the spirit. The culture of the Middle was partly instinctive—the idea of the state developed by Humboldt, Schiller, Herder and others who were to follow is half instinctive and half intellectual—with the emphasis on the sphere of rights and on political life. Economic life, as such, really is in the first instance the business of the West. It is the business of the West to such an extent that even the philosophers of the West are really out-of-place economists. Spencer would have done a great deal better to have established factories, rather than philosophies. The specific configuration of the West really fits the structure of a factory. There you will find all all the things that Spencer was considering.
There is also another way of putting it: In the ancient Orient human beings ascended to the divine aspect of man. For them, man was in a way the son of the deity, the issue of the divine principle. The divine was in a way reaching down, as the ancient orientals saw it. It had a downward extension that was then merely reproduced: the human being on earth was a continuation of the divine model. They saw the divine and spiritual human being above, and the physical human being—as the image of that divine being—in the world below. They merely saw something of the heavenly human being hanging down, as it were, reaching down into the physical world. Later the heavenly human being came to be forgotten, only a faint idea remained in a culture grown decadent, and people no longer had any feeling for something of the divine human being reaching down into the human being on earth.
The people of the Middle are organized in such a way that the aspect of the heavenly human being reaching down from the heights of the spirit has condensed into a kind of closed semicircle, with the physical human being joined on to this. A being of divine spirit and physical, bodily nature, a being the mind could entirely encompass, was the result. This is beautifully shown in Hegel's philosophy and Goethe had it beautifully present in his mind.
In the culture of the West attention focuses on the animal world, on animal nature. Darwin presented a magnificent view of its evolution. At the top is a kind of rounded peak. This is difficult to grasp. It is merely considered the highest product of evolution: the human being. In reality the West considers only animal nature, just as the East only considered the heavenly aspect, the god finding continuation in man. In the West attention focuses on the animal world. This comes to a rounded peak in a creature seen as a continuation of the evolutionary sequence of animals, a kind of super-animal extending beyond animal nature. That is as far as the West has got. The point which has been reached is reflected in Western philosophy. It will develop further and the people of the Occident will one day give form and substance to the spiritual element from below, just as the people of the Orient received it from above. But in the West it will be done in full conscious awareness. The Middle represents the transition between the two.
When one is considering real things it feels wrong to speak of an age of transition. Every age is one of transition of course, because there will always be something that went before and something that follows. Yet in a plant the calyx is in a definite place for instance, with the flowers above and the leaves below. One does get clear divisions. In the same way there are clear divisions in human evolution. We can certainly call the time when the great slaughter was in progress, from 1914 onwards, a time of transition, a time that stands out in the historical evolution of humankind. It also was a time when the destiny of the people of the Middle developed in a way that is full of inner tragedy in certain respects. The people of the Middle were faced with a great question: 'How do we find the way from physical life between birth and death on this earth to life between death and rebirth?' Hegel's philosophy immediately turned into materialism afterwards. The first half of the 19th century was unable to answer the question: ‘How do we extend the insight we have gained into the spiritual element present here on earth to the spheres beyond this earth?’ That indeed is the great question specifically facing us, the question put to the culture of the Middle. Goetheanism must be developed further. It must develop in the direction of soul and spirit. It must grow out of merely physical human concerns and become cosmic. Spiritual science working towards Anthroposophy is attempting to do this. It is a continuation of Goetheanism, extending into the spiritual realm. Goetheanism must be extended to become mystery wisdom. It has to be developed to grow into mystery wisdom.
That is the significant aspect of the signature of the present time. We must understand it before we can consciously take our place in the life of the present, in the work that has to be done at the present time. The Central European element has been severely put to the test. If it does not falter, its task will be to deepen its perception of human existence in the physical, sense-perceptible world; a perception in which the spirit is still present in the physical, sense-perceptible world. That will have to be the basis on which a mystery wisdom is developed, using the same clear intellect as that used to gain understanding of the physical, sense-perceptible world. The European Middle therefore must, or ought to, come to understand very clearly how a balance is achieved between the three spheres of culture, politics and the economy. The others will then simply follow suit. Here in the Middle people would be utterly remiss, however, if they refused to wake up and ignored the great necessity that has arisen—to grasp and put into effect the impulse for a threefold order of the social organism.
The European Middle is held as in a vice between East and West. Today it lies prostrate. Out of the very darkness of despair it has to find its way to the light.
In the next lecture we will talk about what is to happen before the middle of this century. I shall speak to you about the Christ appearing before the middle of the 20th century. This reappearance of the Christ is something I hinted at in my first mystery play. For the moment let me just say that this reappearance of the Christ is closely bound up with our understanding of the threefold nature of the whole of the cosmos. It will come about in so far as the Middle will have to turn its attention on the one hand to the instinctive spiritual culture of the East, a culture grown old, and on the other hand to the West. It must turn its attention to the West with a thorough understanding of what is in preparation there in a culture that is still materialistic today, but whose materialism holds the seed of a spirituality of the future. The culture of the Middle must take its place in the middle; it must find the energy and the strength to take its place there and point the way.
It causes me great pain and my heart feels sore because souls are not open today to receive the words that speak of the necessities of which I have spoken. It causes me pain that people want to stay asleep, want to let themselves go; that they shrink from the great tasks that have to be done today. We must look to the East and look to the West and understand what is in progress there.
It has to be clearly understood that Western culture is in its initial stages. We can see that this is most immediately apparent at the point where economic processes sprout from technological processes, if I may put it like this. A very typical example is the ideal once conceived by an American, an ideal that is bound to come to realization in the West one day. It is a purely ahrimanic ideal but one of high ideality. It consists of using the vibrations generated in the human organism, studying them in great detail and applying them to machines to the effect that if someone stood by a machine even his smallest vibrations would be intensified in that machine. The vibrations of human nerves would be transferred to the machine. Think of the Keely engine.67Keely, John Worrell. See also lecture given by Rudolf Steiner in Dornach on 1 Dec. 1918 in Die soziale Grundforderung unserer Zeit/In gednderter Zeitlage GA 186 S. 70 ff. English translation in In the Changed Conditions of the Times. O.D. Wannamaker tr. New York/London: Anthroposophic Press/Rudolf Steiner Publishing Co. 1941. It did not succeed at the first attempt because it had been largely developed from instinct, but it is something that will certainly be realized one day. Here something arises from the crude mechanistic material world that points to what is to come—material mechanics linking up with immaterial, spiritual elements.
In the East, on the other hand, the old spirituality is increasingly falling into decadence, into decay. It is rotting away. The experience we have of the East is such that we may certainly say: The human being once perceived as a heavenly, spiritual being has come to look like a senile old person. This human being still has no understanding for the things of the earth, for the things in which human beings, too, are clothed on this earth. The West understands earthly things only, the East has no understanding of them. Because of this, the heavenly element has grown completely senile. It is always a great mistake not to pay proper attention to the way in which the spiritual element still has to be won from the mechanical genius, the mechanistic materialism of the West. The spirit will have to be intuitively gathered out of a science that is also still very much subject to Western materialism. In the same way it is a great mistake to cast sidelong glances at the East and to try and bring the spiritual life of the East to the West, in this day and age. The Theosophical Society based at Adyar used to do this and perhaps still does in its antiquated ways. Looking across to the East, nothing one finds there has anything in it that relates to present life; it is something grown old, and has to be studied as something historical that has grown old—something of no significance for the present.
In the West, if I may put it like this, we have Keely and his engine as a rough, crude mechanistic forerunner of a future culture. The final upshot of the East's spiritual senility on the other hand may be seen in the work of Tolstoy. There we see a concentrated form of something that has once been great and is now completely decadent. This is an interesting phenomenon but it does not have the least significance for the present. Much has been wiped out with the events that happened from 1914 onwards, and this includes that last flame of Eastern senility flickering up in Tolstoy. Before the war it was still possible to speak of Tolstoy as relating to the present time. The war has put an end to this and Tolstoy is no longer of significance. It is definitely out of date to speak of Tolstoy as though he were of significance today. And we must take care not to cast any kind of sidelong glance in the direction of the East, of the ancient East, and at the things that have in a way grown senile and come to a final concentration once again in an individual such as Tolstoy. We must take our stand on the mission that belongs to the present time. We can only do so if we grasp the impulse for a threefold order of the social organism out of what lies in ourselves. The decaying East has created a symbol, as it were, in world history—or we might say a symptom—in making Tolstoy a kind of final upshot, full of inner activity, and yet impotent. The West on the other hand has produced Keely with his engine as a first forerunner. Tolstoy showed how the old oriental culture had grown completely luciferic; Western culture is still entirely under the sign of the ahrimanic element.
This is what we must grasp in the present age. On the one hand we must be wary of past elements reaching across from the East, be wary of past elements from the East in someone living in this century and on the other hand we must be wary of what is only in its beginnings in the West. If we fail to grasp this and fail to perceive the true nature of these things we do not belong to the present age. Someone belonging to the present age may of course be English, French, American or Russian—humanity must extend beyond geographical boundaries today. It is important however to consider the old geographical limits because of their role in the historical evolution of humankind. Behind us lies a history of humankind that went in three stages—Orient, Middle, West. Before us—and this is something spiritual science working towards Anthroposophy must really stress—lies the time when we will be purely human beings, holding the East, the Middle and the West within us at one and the same time. Anyone born to be truly alive today—and this includes anyone who is Asian—is capable of holding all three within him or her. The people of the Middle need not limit themselves to holding the Middle within them. They must gain inner experience of the historical East in its decadence and the historical West which is in the ascendant. And Americans can hold East, Middle and West within themselves if they give thought to mystery wisdom—they actually need it more than most—and raise their thinking from being concerned entirely with the economy to include the spheres of politics and the life of the spirit.
That is what we must say today when we want to define the tasks which human individuals should come to realize are the tasks given to the innermost soul. We will recognize these tasks if we consider the great needs of the present age.
Neunter Vortrag
Wir wollen in unserer Betrachtung heute ausgehen von Tatsachen der Menschenwesenheit, um dann den Übergang zu finden zu einigen weltgeschichtlichen Richtlinien.
Wir haben ja von den verschiedensten Gesichtspunkten aus jenen rhythmischen Wechsel in den menschlichen Zuständen betrachtet, der sich innerhalb von vierundzwanzig Stunden vollzieht, den Wechsel zwischen Schlafen und Wachen. Ich will heute einmal auf die Tatsachen, welche diesem Wechsel von Schlafen und Wachen zugrunde liegen, von einem Gesichtspunkte aus hinweisen, den wir noch weniger ins Auge gefaßt haben.
Wir wissen ja, daß der Mensch ein dreigliedriges Wesen ist. Wir betrachten als einen Teil dieses dreigliedrigen Wesens die Kopforganisation des Menschen. Diese Kopforganisation des Menschen ist ja so, daß zunächst der Außenwelt entgegengehalten wird der Sinnesorganismus. Mehr nach innen gelegen ist dann der eigentliche Gehirnorganismus. Wir wissen ja, daß jede solche Betrachtungsweise nur eine annähernde ist. Denn wir dürfen nicht einfach den Menschen in Sektionen abteilen von räumlicher Natur, wir müssen uns klar sein darüber, daß im Kopf, im Haupte nur hauptsächlich der Nerven-Sinnesorganismus konzentriert ist, daß dieser aber sich räumlich über den ganzen Menschen erstreckt. Das alles, was wir in dieser Beziehung zu sagen haben, gilt auch für den ganzen Menschen. Wir charakterisieren es nach dem hauptsächlichsten Teil, in dem diese Dinge konzentriert sind, nach dem Haupte, nach dem Kopf. Also nach außen der Sinnesorganismus, nach dem Inneren der Gehirnorganismus.
Nun fragt es sich: Was tritt denn da eigentlich ein für den Sinnesorganismus und den Gehirnorganismus, wenn der Mensch aus dem Ihnen ja bekannten, wenigstens zunächst äußerlich bekannten Zustand des Wachens in den Zustand des Schlafens übergeht? Sie wissen ja, der Sinnesorganismus hört auf, seine Tätigkeit auszuüben. Der Gehirnorganismus kann noch verfolgt werden durch dasjenige, was dem Menschen in einer gewissen Weise hereinleuchtet aus dem Schlafzustand: durch das Traumleben. Sehen Sie sich dieses Traumleben einmal an, so werden Sie sich sagen können: Dieses Traumleben bietet Ihnen dem Anblicke nach zunächst eine Art von Umwelt, welche ähnlich ist in einer gewissen Beziehung der äußeren Sinneswelt. Sie enthält Bilder dieser äußeren Sinneswelt. Der Mensch im wachen Bewußtsein weiß ganz genau, daß er im Traumleben Bilder hat, die eine Art von Vorbild in der äußeren Sinneswelt haben. Und wenn dann der Mensch seine Traumwelt genauer sich ansieht, wenn er sie ganz unbefangen betrachtet, dann wird er gewahr, daß die Traumbilder verbunden sind miteinander, sich aufeinander beziehen, in einem Wechselverhältnis stehen, das so bestimmt ist wie die gegenseitigen Beziehungen, das Wechselverhältnis bei den mehr bildlosen Gedanken des Wachlebens. Nur kann man sagen, während der Mensch im bildlosen Denken des Wachlebens seine Gedankenverbindungen voll in der Hand hat, durch den Willen einen Einfluß auf die Verbindung des einen Gedankens mit dem andern ausübt, ist das im Spiel der Traumbilder nicht der Fall. Die Traumbilder ordnen sich selber zusammen. Der Mensch ist diesem Zusammenordnen hingegeben. Aber wenn man dann überblickt die Art und Weise, wie sich diese Traumbilder zusammenordnen, so findet man: Es ist, wie wenn verdünnt, gewissermaßen willenlos verlaufen würden die Tatsachen des gewöhnlichen Denkens. Man kann ganz genau noch die Reste sowohl des Sinneslebens wie des Denklebens in dem Traumleben verfolgen. Man wird — was ja dann die Geisteswissenschaft bis zur vollen Gewißheit erheben kann — aus alledem, was sich herausstellt durch diese Betrachtung des Traumlebens, erkennen können, daß das menschliche Gehirn, das ja in einer gewissen Weise der Träger des Vorstellungslebens ist, eine Veränderung durchgemacht haben muß gegenüber dem Wachzustand. Denn im Wachzustand liegt ja die Sache so, daß wir gerade durch unseren Willen die Verbindung der Gedanken in der Hand haben. Im Traumleben haben wir es nicht. Und außerdem: Die Sinne haben ihre Tätigkeit eingestellt, es sind nur die bildhaften Nachklänge an das Sinnesleben im Traumleben vorhanden. Also auch ein abgeschwächtes Sinnesleben ist da. Welche Veränderungen — so fragen wir heute — hat da das Gehirn des Menschen durchgemacht?
Sie werden bei unbefangener Überlegung zustimmen müssen dem, was da die Geisteswissenschaft geltend machen muß: Das Gehirn ist im Träumen ähnlich geworden einem Sinnesorgan. Ein Sinnesorgan nimmt Bilder aus der Außenwelt auf. Es verarbeitet auch diese Bilder schon, wenigstens bis zu einem gewissen Grade. Aber in der Art, wie das bloße Sinnesorgan der Außenwelt gegenübersteht, liegt kein Wille. Wenn Sie sich gerade dieses der Außenwelt Gegenüberstehen des Sinnesorgans vor Augen führen und dann mit dem Träumen vergleichen, so werden Sie finden, daß das Gehirn als Träger des Träumens — meinetwillen setzen Sie das zunächst hypothetisch voraus, daß das Gehirn der Träger des Träumens ist — einem Sinnesorgan ähnlich geworden ist. Es ist mehr Sinnesorgan geworden, als es im Wachen ist, beziehungsweise im Wachen ist es das nicht, da hat es die Eigenschaft des Sinnesorgans ganz abgestreift.
Und nun werden Sie auch nicht mehr weit davon entfernt sein, einzusehen, wie es mit dem vollen traumlosen Schlafe ist. Der Traum steht ja zwischen dem Wachleben und dem Schlafe mitten drin. Wenn das Gehirn schon im Traume sich annähert dem Sinnesorgan, so wird diese Annäherung im Schlafe eine noch größere sein. Nur ist der Mensch in seiner heutigen Verfassung nicht in der Lage, sich dieses Sinnesorgans im normalen Leben zu bedienen. Aber es gab eine Zeit in der Menschheitsentwickelung, in welcher der Mensch in hohem Grade in der Lage war, sich des Gehirns als eines Sinnesorgans zu bedienen. Jedesmal aber wird zwischen dem Schlafen und Aufwachen das Gehirn in einer gewissen Weise Sinnesorgan. Wir wissen, wo der eigentliche Mensch, der geistig-seelische Mensch vom Einschlafen bis zum Aufwachen ist. Er ist in der Außenwelt. Wir wollen uns jetzt nicht dabei aufhalten, zu beschreiben, wie diese Außenwelt ist, sondern wir wollen uns nur klar sein darüber, daß natürlich der Mensch als seelisch-geistiges Wesen in einer seelisch-geistigen Außenwelt ist. Die Umwelt, die wir vom Aufwachen bis zum Einschlafen nur ansehen können als eine physische Welt, in der wir nicht gewahr werden die geistig-seelischen Ingredienzien, die wird für den Zustand zwischen Einschlafen und Aufwachen so, daß der Mensch als geistig-seelisches Wesen in dieser Umwelt als einer geistig-seelischen drinnen ist. Er erlebt sich unbewußt für seine heutige Seelenverfassung in dieser geistig-seelischen Umwelt.
Diese geistig-seelische Umwelt, in der der Mensch ist, die war nun die eigentliche Welt jener Zeit, aus welcher die Urweisheit der Menschheit stammt. Wenn wir zurückblicken auf jene Zeit, in die wir ja öfter schon zurückgeblickt haben, von der ein Nachklang steht in den Veden, in der Vedantaphilosophie, kurz, in den Weisheitsanschauungen, den Weisheitsoffenbarungen des alten Orients, dann haben wir dasjenige, was diese Urmenschheit des alten Orients erlebt hat gerade in dem Zustande zwischen dem Einschlafen und dem Aufwachen in der Außenwelt. Und für diese Menschheit war es noch so, daß das Gehirn während des Schlafes in hohem Maße eine Art Sinnesorgan war. Allerdings ein solches Sinnesorgan, das nicht gestattete, daß zu der gleichen Zeit, während welcher wahrgenommen wurde, auch gedacht wurde. Der altorientalische Mensch konnte dasjenige, was er erlebte zwischen Einschlafen und Aufwachen, in der geistig-seelischen Welt wahrnehmen. Es spiegelte sich gewissermaßen in seinem zum Sinnesorgan gewordenen Gehirn. Aber er konnte es nicht in demselben Zustande auch denken. Er mußte gewissermaßen abwarten die Zeit des Wachens, um das zu denken, was er da wahrgenommen hatte. Und es gibt sogar ein äußeres Zeichen dafür, daß diese Dinge so waren, wie ich sie jetzt geschildert habe. Versuchen Sie nur einmal, zurückzugehen selbst in die späteren Reste der altorientalischen Kultur. Da werden Sie finden, daß diese altorientalische Weisheitskultur durchaus so gestaltet ist, daß sie gewissermaßen den sinnlichen Weltenraum, der aber geistig angesehen worden ist, darstellt. Dasjenige, was heute nur in einer Karikatur vorhanden ist, die Astrologie, war eine lebendige Weisheit für diese alten Zeiten. Dasjenige, was die Sterne offenbarten, was der nächtliche Himmel dem Menschen offenbarte, dasjenige, was verhüllt ist für die Anschauung vom Aufwachen bis zum Einschlafen, das bildet in hohem Maße den Untergrund desjenigen, was diese altorientalische Weisheit enthüllte. Und das war es, was der Mensch erlebte vom Einschlafen bis zum Aufwachen. Er war in der Außenwelt, und er erlebte auf geistig-seelische Weise seinen Zusammenhang mit der Gestirnswelt. Und wenn er aufwachte, dann trat sein Gehirn wiederum zurück aus dem Zustand des Sinnesorgans in den Zustand, der schon etwas ähnlich war unserem Gehirnzustand, nur war dieses Gehirn noch so gebaut, daß sich der Mensch nun während des Wachens erinnern konnte an dasjenige, was er während des Schlafes erlebte. Und es leuchtete als eine instinktive Imagination dasjenige auf, an das er sich da erinnerte. Während dieser altorientalische Mensch durchging durch das Tagesleben, konnte er die innere Aufmerksamkeit abwenden von dem, was in der Sinneswelt um ihn herum war, und er konnte achtgeben auf dasjenige, was als eine innere Erleuchtung in mächtigen Bildern vor seiner Seele stand als Erinnerung an dasjenige, was er nächtlich erlebt hatte. Und das waren die orientalischen Urimaginationen, die dann in abgeschwächter Gestalt in den noch immer herrlichen Veden und in der Vedantaweisheit und -dichtung erscheinen.
Wie erschienen sie in jener Zeit dem Menschen selber? Von einer solchen Beschreibung des Menschen, wie das in der heutigen Anatomie oder Physiologie der Fall ist, wo das Sinnenfällige des äußeren Menschen zugrunde gelegt wird diesen Beschreibungen, war in diesen alten Zeiten noch keine Rede. Der Mensch erlebte ja unter all dem, was er da in der Außenwelt erlebte zwischen Einschlafen und Aufwachen, sich selber als ein seelisch-geistiges Wesen. Er erlebte den Kosmos als seelisch-geistiges Wesen und sich selber als seelisch-geistiges Wesen in dem seelisch-geistigen Kosmos. Und wie erlebte er sich da? Er erlebte sich als sein eigenes Vorbild. Bitte geben Sie wohl acht auf dasjenige, was gerade in diesen Worten enthalten ist. Wenn dem Menschen die Erleuchtung aufging von dem, was er im Schlafe erlebt hatte, dann erlebte er sich als sein eigenes Vorbild, und er konnte sich sagen: Mein Vorbild sieht so und so aus. In diesem Vorbild sind nun wiederum gewisse spezielle Vorbilder für mein Haupt, für das Innere meines Hauptes, für die Lunge, die Leber und so weiter enthalten. Der Mensch erlebte sich nicht in der Art und Weise, wie es die heutige Anatomie und Physiologie gibt, in den äußeren sinnenfälligen Organen. Aber er erlebte sich als Vorbild, als dasjenige, was diese äußeren sinnenfälligen Organe schafft. Der Mensch erlebte gewissermaßen sich selber als ein göttlich-himmlisches Wesen, als das göttlich-himmlische Vorbild des irdischen Menschen. Der irdische Mensch interessierte ihn daher nicht besonders, sondern ihn interessierte sein himmlisch-geistiges Vorbild. Durch diesen ganzen Komplex von Erlebnissen kam er aber noch auf etwas anderes. Er kam darauf, zu erkennen, daß ja dieses himmlisch-geistige Vorbild zu gleicher Zeit dasselbe ist, was er war, bevor er als physischer Mensch empfangen beziehungsweise geboren worden ist. Und es erlebte der Mensch durch diese besondere Beschaffenheit während des alten orientalischen Urzustandes sich als himmlisch-göttlichen Menschen, aber zugleich erlebte er sich als Mensch vor seinem Erdenwerden. Und das ist das fundamental Wichtige der alten orientalischen Kulturen, daß der Mensch sich erlebte als das Wesen, das er war vor seinem irdisch-physischen Dasein. Sein Bewußtsein von alledem war allerdings ein instinktives, aber es war eben so, daß es zum Ergebnis hatte das feste Erkennen von dem vorirdischen Dasein, von dem Herabsteigen aus einer geistigen Welt in die physisch-sinnliche Welt. Das ist das vergessene Charakteristikon der alten orientalischen Religionen, daß diese Religionen durchaus sprachen von dem vorgeburtlichen Dasein, davon sprachen, daß das Leben auf der Erde eine Fortsetzung eines himmlischen Lebens ist.
Ich habe von einem andern Gesichtspunkte aus schon darauf hingedeutet, wie sehr für unsere Zeit verlorengegangen ist das Bewußtsein, das sich da entwickelt hatte, indem wir zwar ein Wort haben, welches negiert, daß das Leben mit dem Tode endet, «Unsterblichkeit», aber kein Wort, welches negiert, daß der Beginn der Anfang des menschlichen Lebens überhaupt ist. Wir haben kein ähnliches Wort wie Unsterblichkeit für das Vorgeburtliche. Wir müßten auch das Wort «Ungeborenheit» haben. Wenn wir das Wort Ungeborenheit hätten und wenn dieses Wort Ungeborenheit in uns so lebendig wäre wie das Wort Unsterblichkeit, dann würden wir uns hineinversetzen können in die Seelenverfassung des altorientalischen Menschen.
Wenn Sie sich innerlich vergegenwärtigen diese ganze Seelenverfassung des altorientalischen Menschen, dann werden Sie sich sagen können: Das irdische Leben ging in einer gewissen Weise für ihn so vor sich, daß er es wenig beachtete, weil er ja in ihm nur das Abbild des himmlisch-geistigen Lebens sah. Auch sich selbst als physischen Menschen nahm der alte Orientale nicht besonders wichtig, denn dieser Mensch, der hier auf derErde herumging, war eben durchaus ein bloßes Abbild des himmlischen Menschen, der vor allen Dingen vor seiner Seele stand. Das Ewige im Menschen, es war für diesen orientalischen Menschen aus der unmittelbaren Anschauung heraus eine Selbstverständlichkeit, weil, wie gesagt, es ihm aufging als Erleuchtung; im Tagesleben, in dem Wachen, war die Erinnerung an das Nachtleben. Um sich eine solche Seelenverfassung vor das geistige Auge zu stellen, muß man also zurückgehen in den alten Orient. Dasjenige, was da als eine große Geisteskultur im alten Orient vorhanden war, das gehört sehr, sehr alten Zeiten an. Denn was die Bücher enthalten, selbst die herrlichen Veden, die Vedantaphilosophie, ist nur ein Nachklang. Wollte man in reiner, ursprünglicher Gestalt dasjenige anschauen, was Inhalt der alten orientalischen Urweisheit ist, dann müßte man weit hinter das Zeitalter der Veden, der Vedantaphilosophie zurückgehen. Das kann nur die Geisteswissenschaft. Diese alte orientalische Kultur, die gewissermaßen alles irdische Leben durchleuchtet hat mit der Einsicht in die geistige Welt, die, wenn sie auch nur instinktiv war, doch hoch war, diese alte orientalische Geisteskultur ist dann in die Dekadenz gekommen. Wer das heutige orientalische Wesen, das schon stark dekadent ist, studiert, der findet noch immer als den Grundimpuls in diesem orientalischen Wesen diese Hinlenkung auf den himmlischen Menschen. Selbst in den Koketterien des Rabindranath Tagore finden wir noch die Nachklänge dieses orientalischen Duktus’. Rabindranath Tagore ist ja durchaus durchtränkt von dem, was ja selbstverständlich schon spätere dekadente Kultur ist; aber, wie gesagt, den Grundzug findet man selbst noch in seinen zum Teil außerordentlich interessanten, bedeutsamen, aber in ihrem Grundcharakter ganz koketten Auseinandersetzungen, zum Beispiel in den Aufsätzen, die in seiner Schrift über den Nationalismus zusammengestellt sind. So daß man, wenn man nach dem Oriente hinüberblickt, in eine alte Zeit hineinblickt, in eine hohe instinktive Geisteskultur mit starker Betonung des vorirdischen Daseins. Und man sieht dann auf ein allmähliches Niedergehen dieser ursprünglich hohen Geisteskultur. Im Niedergehen zeigt sich dann nur das Unvermögen, einzugehen auf dasjenige, was nun schon einmal die Aufgabe des modernen Menschen ist: auf das physisch-sinnliche Dasein, das der Mensch durchlebt zwischen Geburt und Tod. Der altorientalische Mensch der Urzeit hatte das Vorbild des Menschen; und er konnte im physisch-sinnlichen Leben das Nachbild dieses Vorbildes sehen. Die Lebendigkeit, die Durchleuchtetheit des himmlisch-göttlichen Vorbildes, die verdüsterte, verdunkelte sich allmählich, und so blieb dem Orientalen nurmehr ein Schattenbild. Heute ist es schon ganz verblaßt, Es blieb ein Schattenbild desjenigen, was einstmals in lebendiger Helle vor seiner Seele stand, als das geistig-seelische Urbild seiner selbst innerhalb der ganzen kosmischen geistig-seelischen Welt. Es blieb aber auch eine gewisse Ohnmacht zurück im orientalischen Wesen. Und das ist etwas, was heute der Mensch, der mit seiner Zeit leben will, ganz besonders aufnehmen muß. Es blieb zurück die Ohnmacht, den Menschen zu betrachten, der da Nachbild ist, den Menschen zu betrachten in der Zeit zwischen Geburt und Tod. Dafür hat der Orientale früher keinen Sinn gehabt, auch da nicht, wo er nicht den Ersatz, sondern etwas ganz anderes, den himmlisch-physischen Menschen vor sich hatte. Aber er hat auch heute noch keinen Sinn dafür, wirklich einzugehen auf den Menschen, wie er ist zwischen Geburt und Tod. Das blieb vorbehalten einer andern Kultursphäre, den Menschen zu betrachten in seinem Wesen hier im physisch-sinnlichen Dasein zwischen Geburt und Tod. Das blieb vorbehalten der Kultur, die ich nennen möchte die Kultur der Mitte. Diese Kultur der Mitte hat zunächst den historisch sichtbaren Ausdruck im späteren alten Griechentum. Das ursprüngliche alte Griechentum ist ja noch unter dem Nachklang orientalischer Weisheit gestanden. Das spätere Griechentum nimmt schon dasjenige an, was ich nunmehr charakterisieren will als die Kultur der Mitte.
Diese Kultur der Mitte kommt mehr vom Süden herauf, ergreift das spätere Griechenland, ergreift namentlich die römische Welt. Während alles dasjenige, was ich bisher charakterisiert habe für den Orient, ein Schauen war, wird dasjenige, was da vom Süden her kommt, das spätere Griechentum ergreift, in der römischen Welt seine besondere Ausbildung erfährt, was da zur Kultur der Mitte wird — von andern Gesichtspunkten aus haben wir das öfter schon betrachtet -, eine juristische, dialektische, intellektuelle, eine denkerische Kultur, nicht eine Kultur des Schauens, sondern eine denkerische Kultur. Diese denkerische Kultur ist insbesondere geeignet, den Menschen zu betrachten in seinem Leben zwischen Geburt und Tod. Nachdem sie ihre Vorstadien durchgemacht hatte im späteren Griechentum, nachdem sie ganz derb, brutal aufgetreten war im Römertum, sich dann erhalten hat durch die Sprache des Römertums, die lateinische Sprache, die für das Mittelalter noch die Sprache der Wissenschaft war, hat diese dialektische, diese intellektuelle Kultur einen Höhepunkt erlangt in der mitteleuropäischen Kulturgröße, die man um die Wende des 18. zum 19. Jahrhundert erlebte in Schiller, Goethe, Herder, und ja auch in den Philosophen Fichte, Schelling und Hegel. Sie brauchen sich nur dasjenige anzuschauen, was in diesen Geistern das eigentlich Charakteristische ist, und Sie werden gleich daraufkommen, daß das stimmt, was ich sage. Nehmen Sie Fichte, Schelling, auch selbst Goethe. Worin sind denn diese Geister groß, worin sind sie bedeutsam?
Diese Geister sind groß und bedeutsam im Erkennen des Menschen zwischen Geburt und Tod. Für diesen Menschen fordern sie eine Totalerkenntnis. Nehmen Sie, um nur ein Beispiel herauszuheben, die Hegelsche Philosophie. Sie finden in der Hegelschen Philosophie stark betont, daß der Mensch ein geistiges Wesen ist. Aber der Geist wird nur betrachtet, insofern der Mensch lebt zwischen Geburt und Tod. Nichts finden Sie bei Hegel von einem vorgeburtlichen, himmlisch-göttlichen Menschen. Nichts finden Sie selbst bei Hegel von einem Menschen nach dem Tode. Sie finden bei Hegel eine geschichtliche Betrachtung alles desjenigen, was verlaufen ist zwischen den Menschen hier auf der Erde, insoferne sie Menschen sind, die leben zwischen Geburt und Tod. Sie finden aber kein Hereinspielen irgendwelcher Mächte derjenigen Welten, die der Mensch durchlebt zwischen dem Tod und einer neuen Geburt. Das ist alles wie ausgestrichen in dieser großen Kultur, deren Mission, deren Beruf es eben war, scharf zu betonen, daß der Mensch hier in seinem Leben zwischen Geburt und Tod ein geistig-seelisches Wesen neben einem leiblich-physischen Wesen ist. Aber es war zu gleicher Zeit die Beschränkung dieser Kultur darin gegeben, daß man nicht hinaufschauen konnte in dasjenige Leben, das geistig ist. Und das Seelische, das über Geburt und Tod hinausreicht, das Ewige, insofern es sich offenbart zwischen Geburt und Tod, wurde insbesondere von Hegel und auch von den andern allen, insbesondere den deutschen Geistern, mächtig betont, aber es fehlte jede Möglichkeit, hinauszuschauen in das Leben des Ewigen, wie es sich offenbart vor der Geburt, wie es sich offenbart nach dem Tode. Was über den Menschen als ein leibfreies Wesen in dieser Zeit gesprochen worden ist, das war ja altes Erbgut des Orients, das war nicht herausgequollen aus der eigenen Erkenntnis. Es war Tradition. Es war aufs höchste gespannt in diesem Erkennen der europäischen Mitte die Erkenntniskraft, die sich auf das Geistig-Seelische auch im Menschen richtete, aber zu gleicher Zeit sich richtete auf das Leiblich-Physische. Aber diese Spannung ging nicht über das Leben hinaus, das sich zwischen Geburt und Tod abspielt.
Im Westen bereitete sich in der verschiedensten Weise vor ein anderes Leben, ein Leben, welches, wenn es sich später einmal weiter entwickeln wird, in anderer Art das Geistige hereinbringen wird, das leibfrei ist. Wie hat der alte Orientale - machen wir uns das noch einmal klar — das Geistige in das physische Leben hineingebracht? Er hat es dadurch hereingebracht, daß er sich bei Tage erinnerte an dasjenige, was er nächtlich zwischen Einschlafen und Aufwachen außerhalb seines Leibes erlebte. Späterhin wird das anders sein, heute sind nur die Vorboten da, das Vorstadium. Der Mensch erlebt nämlich zwischen dem Aufwachen und Einschlafen in sich nicht etwa bloß dasjenige, was ihm bewußt ist, denn es steigt wenig von dem, was der Mensch erlebt, in das heutige normale Bewußtsein schon herauf. Da unten in der menschlichen Natur wird wirklich unermeßlich viel mehr erlebt, als der Mensch im Bewußtsein haben kann. Das wird ja schon geahnt, gerade im Westen. Daher reden solche Menschen wie William James von dem «Unterbewußten» oder «Unbewußten», weil sie es ahnen; sie konnten es nur noch nicht zur Erkenntnis erheben. Es ist alles ein Lallen, was über diese Dinge gesagt wird, aber geahnt werden die Dinge. Und so wie hereinstieg in den alten Orientalen dasjenige, was im leibfreien Zustand als das Geistig-Seelische des Kosmos erlebt worden ist, so wird einmal heraufsteigen aus den Untergründen im Westen dasjenige, was da in den Untergründen heute unbewußt erlebt wird. Da werden auch Imaginationen heraufkommen. Derjenige, der die Psychologien des Westens studiert, sieht heute schon in der Assoziationspsychologie, die, wie sie heute auftritt, ein Unsinn ist, schon eine Vorbereitung hierzu.
Dasjenige also, was für den Menschen der Mitte sich nur zeigte als Offenbarung dessen, was zwischen Geburt und Tod erlebt wird, das wird sich in seinem ewigen Aspekte zeigen durch die besonderen Fähigkeiten des Westens.
Insbesondere ist ja da unten in uns dasjenige, was nach dem Tode in der geistigen Welt leben wird. Erinnern Sie sich an dasjenige, was ich Ihnen über diese Dinge oftmals von verschiedenen Gesichtspunkten aus gesagt habe. Ich habe gesagt: Das menschliche Haupt ist Ergebnis des früheren Erdenlebens. Dasjenige, was der übrige Mensch ist, das wird das Haupt im nächsten Erdenleben. So wird die Metamorphose sich vollziehen. Was also da unten ist in dem außerkopflichen Menschen, das ist nur für die gegenwärtige Auffassungsweise Fleisch und Blut, Muskeln, Haut, Knochen, das enthält aber im Keime geistig dasjenige, was das Haupt der nächsten Inkarnation ist, das weist über den Tod hinaus. Und dieses über den Tod Hinausweisende, das wird sich einmal der Menschheit der Zukunft, die heute in den primitiven Anfängen im Westen vorhanden ist, in das Bewußtsein hinein offenbaren. Das innere Geistig-Seelische wird also in der Zukunft imaginativ wahrgenommen werden, wie das äußere Geistig-Seelische in der Vorzeit imaginativ-instinktiv wahrgenommen worden ist. Nur wird dasjenige, was von innen heraus sich offenbaren wird, dem vollen Bewußtsein sich offenbaren, während das, was sich dem alten Orientalen offenbart hat, in einem dumpfen, instinktiven Bewußtsein nur sich offenbarte.
Und wie kündigt sich denn das heute an? Wie sind denn die Vorboten? Die Vorboten sind zunächst die, daß eine starke Hinneigung vorhanden ist in diesen westlichen Gebieten zum Materialismus. Weil einmal das Geistige aus der menschlich-physischen Materie heraus sich offenbaren soll, neigt heute diese Welt in hohem Maße zum Materialismus hin. Das Geistige sieht sie noch nicht, aber dasjenige, woraus ihr das Geistige wird, das sieht sie heute, Daher der Materialismus, der ja vorzugsweise ein westliches Produkt ist, aber vom Westen her die Mitte überschwemmt hat und nach dem Osten sich ausbreitet.
Die Kultur der Mitte ist ja keine materialistische; man könnte sie eine materiell-spirituelle nennen, weil in der Betrachtung des Menschen zwischen Geburt und Tod immer das Gleichgewicht sich hält das Hinschauen auf Materielles und das Hinschauen auf das Geistige. Es ist durchaus bei den deutschen Philosophen, bei Goethe und Schiller, überall so, daß sie gewissermaßen dem Leibe und dem Geiste das gleiche Recht lassen. Im Westen ist der Geist eben Zukunftssache, der Gegenwartsblick ist zunächst dem Leibe zugewendet. Aber in der Menschheitsentwickelung ist alles im Fluß: aus dieser Leibeserkenntnis, diesem Materialismus, wird einmal ein Spiritualismus werden, der nur von einer ganz andern Seite herkommt, und der vor allen Dingen bewußt sein wird gegenüber dem Spiritualismus des alten Orients.
Sie sehen daraus, wie die eigentümliche Verteilung — ich habe von andern Gesichtspunkten aus schon darüber gesprochen - dieser dreigestaltigen Menschheitskonfiguration durch die Welt hin ist: Der Mensch des Ostens sah sich einstmals als sein himmlisch-geistiges Vorbild an. Der Mensch der Mitte sieht sich an als den Erdenmenschen, der aber Geist und Seele neben Leib und Körper ist. Der westliche Mensch sieht sich heute noch an als den bloß physischen Menschen; aber in dem, was er berufen ist zu entwickeln, kündigt sich eben das an, was heraussteigen wird aus dieser menschlichen Physis und was zukünftig den geistigen Inhalt des Bewußtseins ausmachen wird.
Der Mensch der Mitte ist eben eingeklemmt zwischen Osten und Westen. Der Osten, der einstmals eine hohe Geisteskultur hatte, ist in der Dekadenz. Der Westen, in dem sich ankündigt eine spätere hohe Geisteskultur, ist heute noch ganz in der Materie befangen. Eine Kultur, in der sich, ich möchte sagen, die zwei Dinge ausgleichen, hat sich in der Mitte gebildet: Einerseits ein dialektisch scharfes Denken, wie es zum Beispiel in Schillers Briefen «Über die ästhetische Erziehung des Menschen» waltet und das gerade noch so weit gehen kann, um nicht in die bloße Trivialität der modernen Wissenschaft zu verfallen, sondern das noch beim menschlich Persönlichen stehenbleibt; andererseits eine bildhafte Anschauung über des Menschen soziales Leben wie in Goethes «Märchen» von der grünen Schlange und der schönen Lilie, das schon zu Bildern kommt, aber diese Bilder nicht zu geistigen Anschauungen treibt.
Diesem Menschen der Mitte ist daher auch die Mission zuerteilt, dasjenige, was er zunächst durch seine besonderen Fähigkeiten erlangt hat für den Menschen zwischen Geburt und Tod, durch unmittelbare Erkenntnis zu erweitern für den Menschen als geistig-seelisches Wesen neben dem physisch-leiblichen Wesen, aber zu erweitern dadurch, daß unmittelbar aus diesem zur Mysterienweisheit wiederum aufgestiegen wird. Dann erhebt sich der Mensch durch Ausbildung derselben Fähigkeiten, durch die er das Geistig-Seelische gerettet hat für das physisch-leibliche Dasein, durch klares Denken, das sich aber entwickelt zu Imagination, Inspiration, Intuition, wiederum in die geistige Welt hinein, die durchlebt wird zwischen dem Tod und einer neuen Geburt. Hier, innerhalb dieser physischen Welt, erlebt man ein völliges Hineinleuchten jener Fähigkeiten, die da zu entwickeln sind, nur, wenn man das Problem der Freiheit betrachtet. Ich habe mich daher in meiner «Philosophie der Freiheit» darauf beschränkt, dieses Problem der Freiheit zu betrachten. Da mußte man schon, aber jetzt für bloß irdische Probleme, dieselbe Fähigkeit anwenden, die, wenn man sie dann weiter ausbildet, den Blick erhebt über dasjenige, was über Geburt und Tod hinausliegt. .
Sie sehen, in einem gewissen Sinne ist auch die Welt dreigeteilt in ihrer Entwickelung: Im alten Orient die instinktive Weisheit, in der Mitte ein gewisses dialektisch-intellektuelles Leben, im Westen heute noch der Materialismus, der in seinem Schoß einen Zukunftsspiritualismus in sich trägt. Von der instinktiven Weisheit war im alten Orient alles abhängig. Ein politisches Leben in unserem Sinne gab es da nicht. Diejenigen, die die Vorsteher der Mysterien waren, gaben auch die Richtung für das politische und wirtschaftliche Leben an. Denn groß war der alte Orientale für das geistige Leben, das sich bei ihm instinktiv ausbildete. Von diesem geistigen Leben war abhängig das politische und wirtschaftliche Leben. Dann kam das Leben der europäischen Mitte, vom Süden natürlich; schon in Ägypten hatte es seine ersten Anfänge. Da entwickelte sich ein Leben, das es dann brachte zu einem dialektischen Ausdenken des staatlich-politischen Elementes. Gerade innerhalb dieser Kultur der Mitte wurde ja das staatlich-politische Leben ausgestaltet. Das geistige Leben hatte man da nur als eine Erbschaft. Und gar im Westen, etwa im Puritanertum, da hat man das Geistige als etwas ganz Abstraktes, das man sektiererisch betreiben kann, das man hineinleuchten läßt in das gewöhnliche physische Leben des Alltags.
Hier in der europäischen Mitte ist also der Boden gewesen, auf dem die staatlichen Ideen sich besonders ausbildeten, wie zum Beispiel bei Wilhelm von Humboldt, und auf dem sie sogar solche wunderbaren Formen annehmen als gesellschaftliche Gemeinsamkeit wie in Schillers «Ästhetischen Briefen», wo sie in so grandiosen Bildern vor die Menschen sich hinstellen wie bei Goethe, denn es ist im Grunde genommen Staatsidee, die sich in Goethes «Märchen» von der grünen Schlange und der schönen Lilie darstellt.
Dann haben wir im Westen heute erst ausgebildet dasjenige, was einmal notwendigerweise einmünden muß in die Dreigliederung des sozialen Organismus, wir haben es erst ausgebildet im materiell-wirtschaftlichen Gebiet. Staatsidee ist im Westen nur eine Erbschaft der Kultur der Mitte. Es gibt ein dickes Buch von dem einstmals so berühmten Woodrow Wilson über den Staat. Da drinnen steht gar nichts Westliches, sondern es ist ganz und gar nur ein Abklatsch desjenigen, was an Staatstheorien bis in die speziellen Ideen hinein in der Mitte entwickelt worden ist. Es ist auch ins Deutsche übersetzt, denn es gab auch in Deutschland eine Zeit, wo man Woodrow Wilson für einen großen Mann angesehen hat.
So kann man sagen, dasjenige, was uns heute vorschwebt als die Dreigliederung des sozialen Organismus, geschichtlich hat es sich entwickelt durch die Menschheitsgestaltung hindurch in drei Stadien: Vorbildlich-instinktiv als geistiges Leben im alten Orient; in einer gewissen Weise halbinstinktiv — denn so wie bei Humboldt, Schiller, Herder oder auch bei späteren die Staatsidee aufgetreten ist, ist sie halb instinktiv und halb intellektuell - hat sich entwickelt die Staatsidee, das politische Leben, das Rechtsleben in der Kultur der Mitte; das Wirtschaftsleben ist eigentlich zunächst eine Sache des Westens, so stark eine Sache des Westens, daß selbst die Philosophen des Westens eigentlich deplacierte Wirtschafter sind. Spencer hätte viel besser getan, wenn er Fabriken begründet hätte statt Philosophien. Denn die besondere Konfiguration des Westens paßt eigentlich in die Struktur der Fabrik hinein. Da ist alles da, worauf das Spencersche Denken sich erstreckt.
Man kann die Sache auch noch anders ausdrücken: Der altorientalische Mensch ist aufgestiegen zu dem Göttlichen des Menschen. Ihm war der Mensch in gewisser Weise der Sohn des Gottes, der Ausfluß des Göttlichen. Das Göttliche ragte gewissermaßen für den orientalischen Menschen herab und hatte eine Fortsetzung nach unten, die nur nachgebildet wurde: der irdische Mensch war eine Fortsetzung des göttlichen Vorbildes. Das war für den alten Orient, oben der göttlich-geistige Mensch, unten der physische Mensch als sein sinnlich-irdisches Abbild, nur so etwas, was gewissermaßen noch herunterhängt und in die irdische Welt hineinragt vom himmlichen Menschen. Und als später vergessen wurde der himmlische Mensch, oder nur eine Ahnung noch vorhanden blieb in der dekadenten Kultur, da hatte man keinen Sinn für dasjenige, was da herunterragte von dem göttlichen Menschen in den irdischen Menschen hinein.
Der Mensch der Mitte ist so organisiert, daß ihm dasjenige, was als der himmlische Mensch herunterragte aus geistigen Höhen, wie eine Art von geschlossenem Halbkreis sich verdichtet hat, und daß sich ihm ansetzt dann darunter der irdische Mensch, so daß ein überschaubares göttlich-geistiges und sinnlich-physisches Wesen herauskommt, wie es so schön in der Hegelschen Philosophie dargestellt wird, wie es Goethe so schön vorgeschwebt hat.
In der westlichen Kultur ist der Blick hingerichtet auf die Tierwelt, das animalische Wesen. Darwin betrachtet es in seiner Entwickelung großartig. Und das hat nach oben eine Art von Kuppe, auf die man auch nicht recht kommt, die man nur als das oberste Entwickelungsprodukt betrachtet: den Menschen. Eigentlich betrachtet man im Westen nur das Tierische, so wie man im Osten nur das Himmlische, nur den Gott betrachtet hat, der sich im Menschen fortsetzt. Im Westen betrachtet man nur das Tier, das oben eine Kuppe hat, ein Wesen, was da auch noch eine Fortsetzung der Tierreihe ist, so etwas ist wie ein Übertier, das da hinausgeht über das Tierische. Das ist heute allerdings noch der Zustand des Westens. Das ist auch der Zustand, der sich ausdrückt in der westlichen Philosophie und der sich weiterentwickeln wird, indem gerade so, wie der Orientale das Geistige von oben empfangen hat, dereinst der Okzidentale das Geistige von unten ausgestalten wird und in vollem Bewußtsein ausgestalten wird. Die Mitte bildet den Übergang.
Derjenige, der die Wirklichkeiten betrachtet, redet nicht gern von einem Übergangszeitalter. Denn jedes Zeitalter ist selbstverständlich ein Übergangszeitalter, weil immer etwas folgt und immer etwas vorangegangen ist. Aber so wie es bei der Pflanze einen Punkt gibt, wo zum Beispiel der Kelch ist und oben die Blüten und unten die Blätter, wie da deutliche Abschnitte sind, so sind auch schon in der Menschheitsentwickelung solche deutlichen Abschnitte. Und wir können von der Zeit, in der das große Morden geschehen ist, von 1914 an, schon sprechen als von einer Übergangszeit, von einer Zeit, die besonders ausgezeichnet ist in dem geschichtlichen Werden der Menschheit, in der sich auch in einer gewissen Weise innerlich-tragisch das Schicksal des mittleren Menschen entfaltet hat, an den die große Frage herantritt: Wie findet man aus dem physisch-irdischen, zwischen der Geburt und dem Tode liegenden Leben heraus in das Leben zwischen dem Tod und einer neuen Geburt? Hegels Philosophie ist gleich nachher in Materialismus umgeschlagen. Und die erste Hälfte des 19. Jahrhunderts war ohnmächtig gegenüber der Frage: Wie wird dasjenige, was da für das Irdisch-Geistige gefunden ist, auf das Außerirdische ausgedehnt? Das ist aber die große Frage, die vor uns steht gerade für die Kultur der Mitte. Der Goetheanismus muß seine Weiterentwickelung finden. Er muß sich nach dem Geistig-Seelischen hin entwickeln. Er muß aus dem bloßen Physisch-Menschlichen heraus kosmisch werden. Dieser Versuch wird gemacht gerade durch die anthroposophisch orientierte Geisteswissenschaft, die eine Fortsetzung ist des Goetheanismus in das Geistige hinein. Es muß sich der Goetheanismus bis in die Mysterienweisheit hinein erstrecken. Er muß hineinentwickelt werden in die Mysterienweisheit.
Das ist das Bedeutsame, das uns entgegentritt in der Signatur der Gegenwart, das man verstehen muß, wenn man sich bewußt in das Leben der Gegenwart, in die Aufgaben der gegenwärtigen Zeit hineinstellen will. Trotz seiner starken Prüfungen hat das Mitteleuropäische, wenn es nicht versagt, die Vertiefungen desjenigen zu vollziehen, was ihm entgegentritt für das physisch-sinnliche Dasein des Menschen, das den Geist im physisch-sinnlichen Dasein bewahrt hat. Das muß die Grundlage bilden für das Ausgestalten einer Mysterienweisheit, die denkerisch ebenso scharf ist wie denkerisch war dasjenige, was für das Physisch-Sinnliche erobert worden ist. Daher muß oder müßte gerade in dieser europäischen Mitte ein gründliches Verständnis für den Ausgleich der drei Gebiete — des Geistigen, des Staatlichen, des Wirtschaftlichen — eintreten. Die andern werden schon folgen. Für hier aber ist es die denkbar größte Nachlässigkeit, wenn die Menschen schlafend vorübergehen an dem, was als eine große Notwendigkeit dasteht: zu begreifen und auszuwirken den Impuls von der Dreigliederung des sozialen Organismus.
Eingeklemmt zwischen den Osten und den Westen ist diese europäische Mitte. Sie liegt heute am Boden. Sie muß gerade aus Dunkelheit, aus Finsternis heraus einen Weg zum Licht finden.
Was da geschehen wird noch vor der Jahrhundertmitte, über das werden wir das nächste Mal sprechen, wo ich Ihnen auseinandersetzen werde die Erscheinung des Christus vor der Mitte des 20. Jahrhunderts. Von dem, was ich in meinem ersten Mysteriendrama angedeutet habe, dem Wiedererscheinen des Christus, werde ich Ihnen sprechen. Heute will ich nur darauf aufmerksam machen, daß dieses Wiedererscheinen des Christus, das aber innig verbunden ist mit dem Verstehen der Dreigliederung des ganzen Weltenwesens, sich entwickelt, indem die Mitte hinschauen muß auf der einen Seite nach der altgewordenen instinktiv-spirituellen Kultur des Ostens, und hinschauen muß, gründlich verstehend, was sich da vorbereitet, nach der heute noch materialistischen, aber im Materialismus den Keim einer zukünftigen Spiritualität in sich tragenden westlichen Kultur. Da muß sich die Kultur der Mitte hineinstellen, muß die Stärke und die Kraft finden, sich da hineinzustellen und richtunggebend zu werden.
Das ist dasjenige, was einem so wehtut, was einem so große Herzschmerzen verursacht, daß kaum die Worte heute mit der Seele gehört werden, die auf die hier berührten Notwendigkeiten hinweisen, daß die Menschen nur schlafen möchten, sich gehen lassen möchten, zurückschreckend vor den großen Aufgaben der Gegenwart. Aber wir müssen hinsehen und müssen verstehen, was im Osten, was im Westen wirkt.
Wir müssen uns klar sein, wie im Westen eine Anfangskultur vorhanden ist. Wir sehen, wie in diesem Westen sich diese Anfangskultur gerade da am allerstärksten ankündigt, wo, ich möchte sagen, das Wirtschaftliche aus dem Technischen aufsprießt. Nichts ist charakteristischer in dieser Beziehung als jenes Ideal, das einstmals vor einem Amerikaner gestanden hat und was ganz gewiß im Westen einmal verwirklicht werden wird, ein rein ahrimanisches Ideal, aber ein Ideal von hoher Idealität, das darin besteht, daß man die eigenen Vibrationen des menschlichen Organismus benützt, indem man sie fein studiert und sie überträgt auf die Maschine, so daß der Mensch an der Maschine steht und seine kleinsten Vibrationen sich in der Maschine potenzieren, so daß dasjenige, was der Mensch an Nervenvibrationen aufbringt, in die Maschine übergeht. Denken Sie an den Keely-Motor, der ja auf den ersten Anhieb noch nicht so weit gelungen ist, daß er ging, weil er noch zu stark aus dem bloßen Instinkt heraus bearbeitet ist; aber es ist etwas, was durchaus der Verwirklichung entgegengeht. Es ist gewissermaßen das, was noch aus dem ganz grob mechanistischen Material heraus hinweist auf dasjenige, was entstehen muß: der Zusammenschluß des Mechanisch-Materiellen mit dem Geistigen.
Dagegen sehen wir, wie im Osten das alte Geistige immer mehr und mehr in die Dekadenz, in den Verfall, in den Zustand des Faulens kommt. Wir erleben im Osten durchaus so etwas, daß man sagen kann: Senil ist geworden der einstmals himmlisch-geistige Mensch für die Anschauung; senil, greisenhaft ist er geworden. Er versteht noch nicht dasjenige, was auf der Erde ist, was ja auch den Menschen umkleidet. Während man im Westen nur dieses Irdische versteht, versteht man im Osten nichts davon. Daher ist das Himmlische schon ganz senil, ganz greisenhaft geworden. Es ist daher immer ein großer Fehler, wenn man auf der einen Seite nicht aufmerksam ist, wie aus dem Mechanismus, dem mechanistischen Materialismus des Westens erst das Geistige herausgewonnen werden muß, wie aus der Naturwissenschaft, die auch noch ganz materialistisch-westlich ist, der Geist herausintuitiert werden muß. Und es ist ein ebenso großer Fehler, wenn man nach dem Osten hinschielt und etwa heute noch, wie es einstmals oder auch noch heute die theosophische Adyar-Gesellschaft mit ihren Antiquiertheiten tut, Spirituelles aus dem Osten nach dem Westen tragen will. Wenn man hinüberschaut nach dem Osten, dann hat man es bei allem, was man da findet, mit nichts Gegenwartslebendigem zu tun, sondern mit etwas, was alt geworden ist, was man studieren muß als ein geschichtlich Altgewordenes, was für die Gegenwart keine Bedeutung mehr hat.
Ebenso wie wir, ich möchte sagen, als einen noch ganz groben, brutalen mechanistischen Vorläufer einer Zukunftskultur im Westen Keely haben mit seinem Motor, haben wir als den äußersten Ausläufer der geistigen Senilität des Ostens 70lstoj. In Tolstoj sehen wir, wie gewissermaßen konzentriert auftritt dasjenige, was einstmals groß war und was jetzt in der völligen Dekadenz ist, was ein interessantes Phänomen ist, aber für uns nicht die geringste Gegenwartsbedeutung hat. So wie vieles ausgelöscht worden ist mit den Ereignissen seit dem Jahre 1914, so ist ausgelöscht dasjenige, was ein letztes Aufflackern der östlichen Senilität in Tolstoj war. Vor dem Kriege konnte man noch von Tolstoj als von etwas Gegenwärtigem sprechen. Mit dem Kriege ist das vorüber. Das hat keine Gegenwartsbedeutung. Es ist etwas durchaus Antiquiertes, heute von Tolstoj als von irgend etwas zu sprechen, was eine Gegenwartsbedeutung hat. Und man muß sich hüten vor jeder Art des Hinüberschielens nach dem Osten, nach dem alten Osten und auch nach dem, was in einer gewissen Art des Senilwerdens noch zum letzten Mal in einem Menschen wie Tolstoj sich konzentriert hat. Wir müssen ganz auf dem Boden derjenigen Mission stehen, die die Mission der Gegenwart ist. Und das können wir nur, wenn wir aus den eigenen Fundamenten heraus den Impuls von der Dreigliederung des sozialen Organismus begreifen. Gewissermaßen um ein weltgeschichtliches Symbolum hinzustellen, oder auch als ein Symptom, hat der verfaulende Osten zuletzt in einer, man möchte sagen, innerlich strebsamen, aber doch ohnmächtigen Weise wie seinen letzten Ausläufer noch Tolstoj hingestellt, wie der Westen als einen ersten Vorläufer den Keely mit seinem Motor hingestellt hat. Während Tolstoj ausdrückt das vollständige Luziferischwerden der alten orientalischen Kultur, steht die westliche Kultur noch ganz im Zeichen des Ahrimanischen.
Das ist dasjenige, was in der Gegenwart erfaßt werden muß. Und ohne zu erfassen, wie wir auf der einen Seite uns zu hüten haben vor dem, was von Osten noch herüberragt von der Vergangenheit, auch in einem lebendigen Menschen noch als Vergangenheit herüberragt, und auf der andern Seite uns zu hüten haben vor dem, was im Westen erst im Aufgange ist, ohne daß man das durchschaut, ist man kein Mensch der Gegenwart. Selbstverständlich kann ein Mensch der Gegenwart Engländer, Franzose, Amerikaner, er kann Russe sein, denn das Menschentum muß heute über die geographischen Sphären hinübergehen. Aber wir müssen diese alten Begrenzungen nehmen, weil sie eine Bedeutung haben für den historischen Werdegang der Menschheit. Hinter uns liegt dasjenige, worin die Menschheitsgeschichte sich dreigliedert: Orient, Mitte, Westen. Vor uns liegt - und anthroposophisch orientierte Geisteswissenschaft soll das so scharf wie möglich betonen — das reine Menschsein, zu gleicher Zeit in uns tragend den Osten, die Mitte und den Westen. Der Mensch, der heute als ein lebendiger Mensch, auch als Asiate, geboren wird, kann alle drei in sich tragen. Der Mensch der Mitte braucht sich nicht zu beschränken, bloß die Mitte in sich zu tragen, sondern er muß den historischen Osten als etwas in Dekadenz Befindliches, den historischen Westen als etwas im Aufsteigen Befindliches in sich erleben. Ebenso kann der amerikanische Mensch, wenn er durch die Betrachtung der Mysterienweisheit — und er ist am meisten darauf angewiesen — erheben will sein bloß wirtschaftliches Denken zu einem Denken, das politisch, das geistig ist, Osten, Mitte und Westen in sich tragen.
Das ist dasjenige, was man heute sagen muß, wenn man die Aufgaben bezeichnen will, die der Mensch als seine innersten Seelenaufgaben erkennen soll aus den großen Notwendigkeiten der Zeit heraus.
Ninth Lecture
In our consideration today, we want to start from the facts of human existence in order to then find the transition to some guidelines for world history.
We have considered from various points of view the rhythmic change in human states that takes place within twenty-four hours, the change between sleeping and waking. Today I would like to point out the facts underlying this change from sleeping to waking from a point of view that we have not yet considered.
We know that the human being is a threefold being. We consider the head organization of the human being to be one part of this threefold being. This head organization of the human being is such that the sensory organism is initially opposed to the external world. Further inward is the actual brain organism. We know that any such view is only approximate. For we must not simply divide human beings into spatial sections; we must be clear that the nerve-sense organism is mainly concentrated in the head, but that it extends spatially throughout the whole human being. Everything we have to say in this regard also applies to the whole human being. We characterize it according to the main part in which these things are concentrated, according to the head. So, outwardly, the sensory organism, inwardly, the brain organism.
Now the question arises: What actually happens to the sensory organism and the brain organism when the human being passes from the state of waking, which you are familiar with, at least outwardly, into the state of sleeping? You know that the sensory organism ceases to carry out its activity. The brain organism can still be traced through what shines into the human being in a certain way from the state of sleep: through dream life. If you take a look at this dream life, you will be able to say: At first glance, this dream life offers you a kind of environment that is similar in a certain way to the external sensory world. It contains images of this external sensory world. The human being in waking consciousness knows quite well that in dream life he has images that have a kind of model in the outer sense world. And when a person looks more closely at their dream world, when they view it completely impartially, they become aware that the dream images are connected with each other, relate to each other, and stand in an interrelationship that is as definite as the mutual relationships, the interrelationship, in the more imageless thoughts of waking life. However, while human beings have complete control over their thought connections in the imageless thinking of waking life and exert influence on the connection between one thought and another through their will, this is not the case in the play of dream images. Dream images arrange themselves. Human beings are at the mercy of this arrangement. But when one then surveys the manner in which these dream images arrange themselves, one finds that it is as if the facts of ordinary thinking were diluted and, in a sense, proceeded without will. One can still trace quite precisely the remnants of both sense life and thinking life in dream life. From all that emerges from this observation of dream life, one will be able to recognize—and spiritual science can elevate this to complete certainty—that the human brain, which is in a certain sense the carrier of the life of imagination, must have undergone a change compared to the waking state. For in the waking state, it is precisely through our will that we control the connection between our thoughts. In dream life, we do not have this control. Furthermore, the senses have ceased their activity; only the pictorial echoes of sensory life are present in dream life. Thus, there is also a weakened sensory life. What changes, we ask today, has the human brain undergone?
If you think about it impartially, you will have to agree with what spiritual science must assert: in dreaming, the brain has become similar to a sense organ. A sense organ takes in images from the outside world. It also processes these images, at least to a certain extent. But in the way the mere sense organ faces the outside world, there is no will. If you consider this confrontation of the sense organ with the external world and then compare it with dreaming, you will find that the brain, as the vehicle of dreaming — let us assume hypothetically for the sake of argument that the brain is the vehicle of dreaming — has become similar to a sense organ. It has become more of a sense organ than it is when we are awake, or rather, when we are awake it is not a sense organ, because it has completely shed the characteristics of a sense organ.
And now you will not be far from understanding what it is like to be in a state of complete dreamless sleep. Dreams stand between waking life and sleep. If the brain already approaches the sense organ in dreams, this approximation will be even greater in sleep. Only, in its present state, man is not able to make use of this sense organ in normal life. But there was a time in human evolution when man was highly capable of using the brain as a sense organ. However, every time between falling asleep and waking up, the brain becomes a sense organ in a certain way. We know where the actual human being, the spiritual-soul human being, is from the moment of falling asleep until the moment of waking up. He is in the outer world. We do not want to dwell here on describing what this outer world is like, but we want to be clear that, of course, the human being as a spiritual-soul being is in a spiritual-soul outer world. The environment that we can only see from waking up to falling asleep as a physical world, in which we are not aware of the spiritual-soul ingredients, becomes, for the state between falling asleep and waking up, such that the human being as a spiritual-soul being is inside this environment as a spiritual-soul being. He experiences himself unconsciously in his present state of soul in this spiritual-soul environment.
This spiritual-soul environment in which human beings exist was the actual world of that time, from which the primordial wisdom of humanity originated. When we look back on that time, which we have often done before, which is echoed in the Vedas, in Vedanta philosophy, in short, in the wisdom teachings, the wisdom revelations of the ancient Orient, then we have what this primitive humanity of the ancient Orient experienced precisely in the state between falling asleep and waking up in the outer world. And for this humanity, it was still the case that during sleep, the brain was to a large extent a kind of sense organ. However, it was a sense organ that did not allow thinking to take place at the same time as perception. The ancient Oriental human being could perceive what he experienced between falling asleep and waking up in the spiritual-soul world. It was reflected, as it were, in their brain, which had become a sensory organ. But they could not think about it in the same state. They had to wait, as it were, for the time of waking to think about what they had perceived. And there is even an outward sign that things were as I have now described them. Just try to go back to the later remnants of ancient Oriental culture. You will find that this ancient Oriental culture of wisdom is structured in such a way that it represents, in a sense, the sensory world, which was, however, viewed spiritually. What today exists only as a caricature, astrology, was a living wisdom in those ancient times. What the stars revealed, what the night sky revealed to human beings, what is veiled from view between waking and falling asleep, forms to a large extent the foundation of what this ancient Oriental wisdom revealed. And that was what human beings experienced between falling asleep and waking up. They were in the outer world and experienced their connection with the world of the stars in a spiritual-soul way. And when they woke up, their brain withdrew from the state of a sense organ into a state that was already somewhat similar to our brain state, only that this brain was still constructed in such a way that people could now remember during waking life what they had experienced during sleep. And what he remembered shone forth as an instinctive imagination. As this ancient Oriental human being went through his daily life, he was able to turn his inner attention away from what was in the sensory world around him and pay attention to what stood before his soul as an inner illumination in powerful images, as a memory of what he had experienced during the night. And these were the Oriental primordial imaginations, which then appear in a weakened form in the still magnificent Vedas and in Vedanta wisdom and poetry.
How did they appear to people themselves at that time? In those ancient times, there was no such description of human beings as we find in modern anatomy or physiology, where the sensory perceptions of the external human being form the basis of these descriptions. Among all that he experienced in the outer world between falling asleep and waking up, man experienced himself as a soul-spiritual being. He experienced the cosmos as a soul-spiritual being and himself as a soul-spiritual being in the soul-spiritual cosmos. And how did he experience himself there? They experienced themselves as their own model. Please pay close attention to what is contained in these words. When humans became enlightened about what they had experienced in sleep, they experienced themselves as their own model, and they could say to themselves: My model looks like this and that. This role model in turn contains certain specific role models for my head, for the inside of my head, for the lungs, the liver, and so on. Man did not experience himself in the way that today's anatomy and physiology describe, in the external organs that are perceptible to the senses. But he experienced himself as a model, as that which creates these external organs that can be perceived by the senses. In a sense, man experienced himself as a divine-heavenly being, as the divine-heavenly model of earthly man. He was therefore not particularly interested in earthly human beings, but rather in his heavenly-spiritual model. Through this whole complex of experiences, however, he came to something else. He came to recognize that this heavenly-spiritual model was at the same time the same thing that he was before he was conceived or born as a physical human being. And through this special condition during the ancient Oriental primordial state, human beings experienced themselves as heavenly-divine beings, but at the same time they experienced themselves as human beings before they became earthly. And this is the fundamentally important aspect of the ancient Oriental cultures, that human beings experienced themselves as the beings they were before their earthly-physical existence. His awareness of all this was instinctive, but it resulted in a firm recognition of his pre-earthly existence, of his descent from a spiritual world into the physical-sensory world. This is the forgotten characteristic of the ancient Oriental religions, that these religions spoke quite openly of pre-birth existence, that they spoke of life on earth as a continuation of a heavenly life.
I have already pointed out from another point of view how much the consciousness that had developed has been lost in our time, in that we have a word that negates that life ends with death, “immortality,” but no word that negates that the beginning is the beginning of human life at all. We have no word similar to immortality for the pre-birth state. We should also have the word “unborn.” If we had the word unborn, and if this word unborn were as alive in us as the word immortality, then we would be able to put ourselves in the soul state of the ancient Oriental human being.
If you imagine the whole state of mind of the ancient Oriental people, you will be able to say to yourself: Earthly life proceeded in such a way for them that they paid little attention to it, because they saw in it only the image of heavenly, spiritual life. The ancient Oriental did not take himself particularly seriously as a physical human being, because this human being walking around here on earth was merely a reflection of the heavenly human being who stood above all else before his soul. The eternal in man was a matter of course for these Oriental people from their immediate perception because, as I said, it dawned on them as enlightenment; in daily life, in waking life, there was the memory of night life. In order to picture such a state of mind in the mind's eye, one must therefore go back to the ancient Orient. What existed as a great spiritual culture in the ancient Orient belongs to very, very ancient times. For what the books contain, even the magnificent Vedas, the Vedanta philosophy, is only an echo. If one wanted to see in its pure, original form what is contained in the ancient Oriental wisdom, one would have to go far back beyond the age of the Vedas and Vedanta philosophy. Only spiritual science can do this. This ancient Oriental culture, which in a sense illuminated all earthly life with its insight into the spiritual world, which, even if only instinctive, was nevertheless highly developed, this ancient Oriental spiritual culture then fell into decadence. Anyone who studies the present-day Oriental nature, which is already highly decadent, will still find this orientation toward the heavenly human being as the fundamental impulse in this Oriental nature. Even in the coquetry of Rabindranath Tagore, we still find echoes of this Oriental style. Rabindranath Tagore is thoroughly imbued with what is, of course, already a later decadent culture; but, as I said, the basic trait can still be found even in his sometimes extremely interesting and significant, but in their basic character quite coquettish, discussions, for example in the essays compiled in his work on nationalism. So that when one looks to the Orient, one looks back to an ancient time, to a highly instinctive spiritual culture with a strong emphasis on pre-earthly existence. And one then sees the gradual decline of this originally high spiritual culture. In this decline, all that is revealed is the inability to respond to what is now the task of modern man: to respond to the physical and sensory existence that man lives through between birth and death. The ancient Oriental man of primeval times had the model of man, and he could see the image of this model in physical and sensory life. The liveliness, the transparency of the heavenly-divine model gradually darkened and dimmed, and so only a shadow image remained for the Oriental. Today it has completely faded away. What remains is a shadow image of what once stood in living brightness before their souls as the spiritual-soul archetype of themselves within the entire cosmic spiritual-soul world. But a certain powerlessness also remained in the Oriental nature. And this is something that people today, who want to live in their time, must take up in a very special way. What remained was the powerlessness to look at the human being who is an afterimage, to look at the human being in the time between birth and death. The Oriental had no sense of this in the past, even where he did not have a substitute, but something completely different, the heavenly-physical human being, before him. But even today he still has no sense of really entering into the human being as he is between birth and death. It was reserved for another cultural sphere to look at human beings in their essence here in their physical, sensory existence between birth and death. This was reserved for the culture that I would like to call the culture of the middle. This culture of the middle first found its historically visible expression in later ancient Greece. The original ancient Greece was still influenced by the echoes of Oriental wisdom. Later Greek culture already took on what I now want to characterize as the culture of the middle.
This culture of the middle comes more from the south, takes hold of later Greece, and takes hold of the Roman world in particular. While everything I have characterized so far for the Orient was a way of seeing, what comes from the south takes hold of later Greek culture, and undergoes its special development in the Roman world, becoming the culture of the middle — we have already considered this from other points of view — a legal, dialectical, intellectual, a thinking culture, not a culture of seeing, but a thinking culture. This thinking culture is particularly suited to considering human beings in their lives between birth and death. After going through its preliminary stages in later Greek civilization, after appearing quite crude and brutal in Roman civilization, and then preserving itself through the language of Roman civilization, Latin, which was still the language of science in the Middle Ages, this dialectical, intellectual culture reached its peak in the cultural greatness of Central Europe, which we experienced at the turn of the 18th to the 19th century in Schiller, Goethe, Herder, and indeed also in the philosophers Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel. You need only look at what is actually characteristic of these minds, and you will immediately see that what I am saying is true. Take Fichte, Schelling, even Goethe himself. In what way are these minds great, in what way are they significant?
These minds are great and significant in their understanding of human beings between birth and death. They demand total knowledge for these human beings. Take Hegel's philosophy, to highlight just one example. In Hegel's philosophy, you will find a strong emphasis on the fact that human beings are spiritual beings. But the spirit is only considered insofar as human beings live between birth and death. You will find nothing in Hegel about a pre-birth, heavenly, divine human being. You will find nothing in Hegel about a human being after death. In Hegel, you will find a historical view of everything that has happened between human beings here on earth, insofar as they are human beings who live between birth and death. But you will find no mention of any powers from the worlds that human beings pass through between death and a new birth. This is all completely erased in this great culture, whose mission, whose calling, was precisely to emphasize sharply that human beings here in their lives between birth and death are spiritual-soul beings alongside physical beings. But at the same time, this culture was limited in that it was not possible to look up into the life that is spiritual. And the soul, which extends beyond birth and death, the eternal, insofar as it reveals itself between birth and death, was powerfully emphasized by Hegel in particular and by all the others, especially the German minds, but there was no possibility of looking out into the life of the eternal as it reveals itself before birth and after death. What was said about man as a bodiless being at that time was the old heritage of the Orient; it did not spring from their own insight. It was tradition. The power of knowledge, which was directed toward the spiritual and soul life in man, but at the same time toward the physical and bodily, was stretched to the utmost in this recognition of the European center. But this tension did not extend beyond the life that takes place between birth and death.
In the West, a different kind of life was being prepared in various ways, a life which, if it develops further in the future, will bring in the spiritual in a different way, which is free from the physical. How did the ancient Oriental—let us make this clear once again—bring the spiritual into physical life? He did so by remembering during the day what he experienced outside his body between falling asleep and waking up at night. Later this will be different; today we only have the precursors, the preliminary stage. For between waking and falling asleep, human beings do not merely experience what they are conscious of, because very little of what human beings experience rises into today's normal consciousness. Down there in human nature, immeasurably more is experienced than human beings can have in their consciousness. This is already suspected, especially in the West. That is why people like William James talk about the “subconscious” or “unconscious,” because they suspect it; they just haven't been able to raise it to the level of knowledge yet. Everything that is said about these things is mere babbling, but the things themselves are sensed. And just as what was experienced in the body-free state as the spiritual-soul aspect of the cosmos entered into the ancient Orientals, so will what is now experienced unconsciously in the depths of the West one day rise up from those depths. Imagination will also arise. Those who study Western psychology can already see in association psychology, which is nonsense as it appears today, a preparation for this.
So what appeared to the average person as a revelation of what is experienced between birth and death will reveal itself in its eternal aspect through the special abilities of the West.
In particular, there is something deep within us that will live on in the spiritual world after death. Remember what I have often told you about these things from various points of view. I have said that the human head is the result of previous earthly lives. The rest of the human being will become the head in the next earthly life. This is how metamorphosis will take place. So what is down there in the extra-head human being is, for our present understanding, only flesh and blood, muscles, skin, bones, but it contains in embryo the spiritual element that is the head of the next incarnation, which points beyond death. And this which points beyond death will one day reveal itself in the consciousness of the humanity of the future, which today exists in its primitive beginnings in the West. The inner spiritual-soul life will thus be perceived imaginatively in the future, just as the outer spiritual-soul life was perceived imaginatively and instinctively in the past. Only what will reveal itself from within will reveal itself to full consciousness, whereas what revealed itself to the ancient Orientals revealed itself only in a dull, instinctive consciousness.
And how does this manifest itself today? What are the harbingers? The harbingers are, first of all, that there is a strong inclination toward materialism in these Western regions. Because the spiritual must one day reveal itself out of human physical matter, this world today is highly inclined toward materialism. It does not yet see the spiritual, but it does see that which will become the spiritual. Hence materialism, which is primarily a Western product, but which has flooded the center from the West and is spreading to the East.
The culture of the middle way is not a materialistic one; one could call it material-spiritual, because in the view of human beings between birth and death, there is always a balance between looking at the material and looking at the spiritual. It is certainly true of German philosophers, of Goethe and Schiller, that they give the body and the spirit equal rights, so to speak. In the West, the spirit is a matter for the future; the view of the present is initially directed toward the body. But in human development, everything is in flux: this knowledge of the body, this materialism, will one day become a spiritualism that comes from a completely different source and will, above all, be conscious of the spiritualism of the ancient Orient.
You can see from this how the peculiar distribution—I have already spoken about this from other points of view—of this threefold configuration of humanity is spread throughout the world: the man of the East once saw himself as his heavenly-spiritual model. The man of the middle sees himself as the earthly man, who is, however, spirit and soul in addition to body and physical form. The Western human being still sees himself today as merely physical; but in what he is called upon to develop, there is a sign of what will emerge from this human physicality and what will constitute the spiritual content of consciousness in the future.
The person of the middle is caught between East and West. The East, which once had a high spiritual culture, is in decline. The West, in which a later high spiritual culture is emerging, is still completely caught up in materialism. A culture in which, I would say, the two things balance each other out has formed in the middle: On the one hand, there is dialectically sharp thinking, as found, for example, in Schiller's letters “On the Aesthetic Education of Man,” which can go just far enough to avoid falling into the mere triviality of modern science, but instead remains grounded in the human personality. On the other hand, there is a pictorial view of human social life, as in Goethe's “Fairy Tales,” of the green snake and the beautiful lily, which already gives rise to images, but does not drive these images into intellectual perceptions.
This person of the middle is therefore also assigned the mission of expanding what he has initially attained through his special abilities for the human being between birth and death, through direct knowledge for the human being as a spiritual-soul being alongside the physical-corporeal being, but expanding it by rising again directly from this to the wisdom of the mysteries. Then, through training the same abilities with which they have saved the spiritual-soul life for physical existence, through clear thinking that develops into imagination, inspiration, and intuition, human beings rise again into the spiritual world that is lived through between death and a new birth. Here, within this physical world, one experiences a complete illumination of those abilities that are to be developed only when one considers the problem of freedom. I have therefore limited myself in my Philosophy of Freedom to considering this problem of freedom. It was necessary to apply the same ability, but now to purely earthly problems, which, when further developed, raises the view above what lies beyond birth and death.
You see, in a certain sense, the world is also divided into three parts in its development: in the ancient Orient, instinctive wisdom; in the middle, a certain dialectical-intellectual life; and in the West today, materialism, which carries within itself a spiritualism of the future. In the ancient Orient, everything depended on instinctive wisdom. There was no political life in our sense. Those who were the leaders of the mysteries also set the direction for political and economic life. For the ancient Oriental was great in spiritual life, which developed instinctively in him. Political and economic life depended on this spiritual life. Then came the life of the European center, from the south, of course; it had already begun in Egypt. A life developed there that led to a dialectical conception of the state-political element. It was precisely within this culture of the center that state-political life was developed. Spiritual life was only regarded as a legacy. And in the West, for example in Puritanism, the spiritual was seen as something completely abstract that could be pursued sectarianly and allowed to shine into the ordinary physical life of everyday existence.
Here in the European center, therefore, was the soil in which state ideas developed particularly strongly, as in the case of Wilhelm von Humboldt, for example, and on which they even took on such wonderful forms as social commonality as in Schiller's “Aesthetic Letters,” where they are presented to people in such grandiose images as in Goethe, because it is basically the idea of the state that is represented in Goethe's “Fairy Tale” of the green snake and the beautiful lily.
Then, in the West today, we have only developed what must necessarily lead to the threefold social organism; we have only developed it in the material-economic sphere. The idea of the state in the West is merely a legacy of the culture of the Middle Ages. There is a thick book by the once famous Woodrow Wilson about the state. There is nothing Western in it at all; it is merely a copy of what has been developed in the Middle East in terms of state theories, right down to the specific ideas. It has also been translated into German, because there was a time in Germany when Woodrow Wilson was regarded as a great man.
So one can say that what we have in mind today as the threefold social organism has historically developed through the shaping of humanity in three stages: exemplary-instinctive as spiritual life in the ancient Orient; in a certain way semi-instinctive — for, as in Humboldt, Schiller, Herder, or even later, the idea of the state emerged it is half instinctive and half intellectual — the idea of the state, political life, and legal life developed in the culture of the Middle Ages; economic life is actually primarily a matter for the West, so much so that even Western philosophers are actually misplaced economists. Spencer would have done much better to found factories instead of philosophies. For the particular configuration of the West actually fits into the structure of the factory. Everything that Spencer's thinking extends to is there.
One can also express the matter in another way: the ancient Oriental man rose to the divine in man. In a certain sense, man was the son of God, the emanation of the divine. The divine, so to speak, looked down upon the Oriental man and had a continuation downward that was merely imitated: the earthly man was a continuation of the divine model. For the ancient Orient, the divine-spiritual human being was above, and the physical human being was below as his sensual-earthly image, something that still hung down, so to speak, and protruded into the earthly world from the heavenly human being. And when the heavenly human being was later forgotten, or only a vague notion of it remained in decadent culture, people had no sense of what protruded from the divine human being into the earthly human being.
The human being of the middle is organized in such a way that what hangs down from the spiritual heights as the heavenly human being has condensed into a kind of closed semicircle, and that the earthly human being then attaches itself below it, so that a comprehensible divine-spiritual and sensual-physical being emerges, as so beautifully depicted in Hegel's philosophy, as Goethe so beautifully envisioned it.
In Western culture, the focus is on the animal world, the animal nature. Darwin considers it magnificent in its development. And this has a kind of peak at the top, which one cannot quite reach, which one can only regard as the highest product of development: the human being. Actually, in the West, we only look at the animal, just as in the East, we only looked at the heavenly, only at God, who continues in man. In the West, we only look at the animal, which has a peak at the top, a being that is also a continuation of the animal series, something like a super-animal that goes beyond the animal. However, this is still the state of the West today. This is also the state of affairs expressed in Western philosophy, which will continue to develop in such a way that, just as the Orientals received the spiritual from above, the Occidentals will one day develop the spiritual from below and develop it in full consciousness. The middle forms the transition.
Those who observe reality do not like to speak of a transitional age. For every age is naturally a transitional age, because something always follows and something always precedes it. But just as there is a point in a plant where, for example, the calyx is at the bottom, the flowers are at the top, and the leaves are at the bottom, and there are clear divisions, so too are there clear divisions in the development of humanity. And we can already speak of the time when the great slaughter took place, from 1914 onwards, as a transitional period, a time that is particularly distinguished in the historical development of humanity, in which the fate of the average human being has also unfolded in a certain inner-tragic way, facing the great question: How does one find one's way out of the physical, earthly life between birth and death into the life between death and a new birth? Hegel's philosophy immediately turned into materialism. And the first half of the 19th century was powerless to answer the question: How can what has been found for the earthly-spiritual be extended to the extraterrestrial? But this is the great question that stands before us, especially for the culture of the middle. Goetheanism must find its further development. It must develop toward the spiritual-soul realm. It must become cosmic out of the mere physical-human realm. This attempt is being made precisely by anthroposophically oriented spiritual science, which is a continuation of Goetheanism into the spiritual realm. Goetheanism must extend into the wisdom of the mysteries. It must be developed into the wisdom of the mysteries.
This is the significant thing that confronts us in the signature of the present, which must be understood if we want to consciously place ourselves in the life of the present, in the tasks of the present time. Despite its severe trials, Central Europe, if it does not fail, has the task of deepening what confronts it for the physical-sensory existence of the human being, which has preserved the spirit in physical-sensory existence. This must form the basis for the development of a mystery wisdom that is as intellectually sharp as was the intellectual conquest of the physical-sensory world. Therefore, it is precisely in this European center that a thorough understanding of the balance between the three realms—the spiritual, the political, and the economic—must or should emerge. The others will follow. But here it is the greatest conceivable negligence if people sleep through what stands before them as a great necessity: to understand and implement the impulse of the threefold social organism.
This European center is wedged between the East and the West. Today it lies on the ground. It must find a way out of darkness and gloom toward the light.
What will happen before the middle of the century, we will discuss next time, when I will explain to you the appearance of Christ before the middle of the 20th century. I will speak to you about what I hinted at in my first mystery drama, the reappearance of Christ. Today I would just like to draw your attention to the fact that this reappearance of Christ, which is closely connected with the understanding of the threefold structure of the whole world being, develops in such a way that the middle must look, on the one hand, at the old instinctive-spiritual culture of the East, and must look, with a thorough understanding of what is being prepared there, on the other hand, the still materialistic Western culture, which nevertheless carries within it the seed of a future spirituality. The culture of the middle ground must insert itself here, must find the strength and power to insert itself and become a guiding force.
This is what hurts so much, what causes such heartache that it is difficult to hear the words today with the soul that points to the necessities touched upon here, that people only want to sleep, want to let themselves go, shrinking from the great tasks of the present. But we must look and understand what is at work in the East and what is at work in the West.
We must be clear about how an initial culture exists in the West. We see how, in this West, this initial culture is most strongly manifesting itself precisely where, I would say, the economic is sprouting from the technical. Nothing is more characteristic in this regard than the ideal that once stood before an American and which will certainly be realized in the West one day, a purely Ahrimanic ideal, but an ideal of high idealism, which consists in using the vibrations of the human organism by studying them carefully and transferring them to the machine, so that the human being stands at the machine and his smallest vibrations are potentiated in the machine, so that what the human being brings forth in nerve vibrations passes into the machine. Think of the Keely motor, which at first glance has not yet been successful enough to work because it is still too strongly based on mere instinct; but it is something that is definitely moving towards realization. It is, in a sense, what points out of the very crude mechanistic material to what must come into being: the union of the mechanical-material with the spiritual.
In contrast, we see how in the East the old spiritual is increasingly falling into decadence, decay, and a state of rot. We experience something in the East that allows us to say that the once heavenly-spiritual human being has become senile in his perception; he has become senile, decrepit. He does not yet understand what is on earth, what surrounds human beings. While in the West people understand only this earthly aspect, in the East they understand nothing of it. Therefore, the heavenly has already become completely senile, completely decrepit. It is therefore always a great mistake not to be attentive to how the spiritual must first be extracted from the mechanism, the mechanistic materialism of the West, just as the spirit must be intuitively extracted from natural science, which is also still completely materialistic and Western. And it is just as great a mistake to look to the East and, as the theosophical Adyar Society with its antiquated ideas did in the past and still does today, to want to bring spirituality from the East to the West. When one looks to the East, everything one finds there has nothing to do with contemporary life, but rather with something that has become old, something that must be studied as a historical relic that no longer has any significance for the present.
Just as we have Keely with his motor as a still very crude, brutal, mechanistic precursor of a future culture in the West, so we have Tolstoy as the extreme offshoot of the spiritual senility of the East. In Tolstoy we see, as it were, concentrated, what was once great and is now in complete decadence, which is an interesting phenomenon but has not the slightest significance for us today. Just as much has been wiped out by the events since 1914, so too has been wiped out what was a last flare-up of Eastern senility in Tolstoy. Before the war, one could still speak of Tolstoy as something contemporary. With the war, that is over. It has no contemporary significance. It is completely antiquated to speak of Tolstoy today as something that has any contemporary significance. And we must beware of any kind of glancing toward the East, toward the old East, and also toward what, in a certain kind of senility, was concentrated for the last time in a man like Tolstoy. We must stand firmly on the ground of the mission that is the mission of the present. And we can only do that if we understand the impulse of the threefold social organism from our own foundations. In order to establish a symbol of world history, or perhaps as a symptom, the decaying East has finally presented Tolstoy as its last offshoot, in a manner that one might describe as inwardly ambitious but ultimately powerless, just as the West presented Keely and his motor as its first precursor. While Tolstoy expresses the complete Luciferization of the old Oriental culture, Western culture is still completely dominated by Ahriman.
This is what must be grasped in the present. And without understanding how we must guard ourselves, on the one hand, against what still protrudes from the past in the East, even in a living human being, and, on the other hand, against what is only just emerging in the West, without seeing through it, we are not people of the present. Of course, a person of the present can be English, French, American, or Russian, because humanity today must transcend geographical spheres. But we must remove these old limitations because they have significance for the historical development of humanity. Behind us lies that in which human history is divided into three parts: the Orient, the Middle East, and the West. Before us lies—and anthroposophically oriented spiritual science should emphasize this as sharply as possible—pure humanity, carrying within us at the same time the East, the Middle East, and the West. The human being who is born today as a living human being, even as an Asian, can carry all three within themselves. The human being of the Middle does not need to limit themselves to carrying only the Middle within themselves, but must experience the historical East as something in decline and the historical West as something on the rise. Similarly, if the American human being wants to elevate his purely economic thinking to a thinking that is political and spiritual, he must contemplate the wisdom of the mysteries — and he is most dependent on this — and carry the East, the Middle, and the West within himself.
This is what must be said today if one wants to describe the tasks that human beings should recognize as their innermost soul tasks arising from the great necessities of the time.