Awakening to Community
GA 257
2 March 1923, Dornach
Lecture VIII
The meetings at Stuttgart came to a close two days ago, and you are probably thinking that I ought to give you a report on some of the things that happened there. We arrived at a certain definite conclusion, which seemed inevitable under the conditions that prevailed.
It will be essential to an understanding of what came about that I give you a sketch of how things developed. You know from comments I have been making these past several weeks that lengthy preparations preceded the Stuttgart meetings. The aim of these preparations, which proved extremely tiring to all concerned, was to try to create a situation in which the life-needs of the Anthroposophical Society could be met, thus ensuring the Society's continuance in the immediate future.
In everything that follows it should be kept in mind that what went on in Stuttgart did not have its origin in the sad events surrounding the Goetheanum fire, nor was it influenced by them. For I had already talked with a member of the Executive Committee early in December and discussed with him the necessity of doing something to consolidate the Society, and he was given the assignment of getting the whole Executive Committee and various others to take on the problem. So what occurred in Stuttgart was a direct consequence of the talk I had on December tenth with Herr Uehli to acquaint him with my observations on the current state of affairs in the Society.
The burning of the Goetheanum came as a most painful experience while we were in the midst of these developments. But even if we still had the Goetheanum standing here in its pristine form, these things would have happened exactly as they did. For what was it we faced? We were facing the fact that the Anthroposophical Society had taken on a form in the past two decades that had undergone considerable modification since 1919 as a consequence of including various enterprises among its concerns.
My words could easily be taken as deprecating these undertakings, but nothing of the sort is intended. I need only mention the name of the Waldorf School, which is one of the enterprises I was referring to, to convince you that my remark was made for quite a different purpose than to express some superficial judgment. It implied no reflection on the worth and significance of any of these enterprises or on anyone responsible for their guidance.
The transactions in Stuttgart were meant to—and indeed did—concern themselves solely with the Anthroposophical Society from the aspect of its whole configuration and how it should be shaped.
Now it is not an easy matter to describe this configuration as it really is, since it branches out in so many directions. But I believe that everyone of you has some idea of how the Society has developed up to the present, and can picture things for himself with the help of the comments I have been making here in the past several weeks to round out the picture.
One of the especially important developments that have taken place in the Society's life has been the incurring by leading individuals—or at least by a considerable number of them—of quite specific anthroposophical tasks for the Society that have grown out of the work. These tasks have been waiting for completion since 1919, but they were not carried out. When the problem this caused became only too plain, I had to speak to the Central Executive Committee in Stuttgart as I did on December tenth last.
One of the latest undertakings to grow out of the soil of the Anthroposophical Movement was the Movement for Religious Renewal, which has contributed heavily to the current crisis in the Society. That is one aspect of the facts that have developed in the Society's life.
The other aspect is that youth has approached the movement—youth full of deep inner enthusiasm for anthroposophy and everything it includes, and university youth has also come into the picture with quite different expectations, with a quite definite picture of what is to be found in the Society, with quite definite feelings. One might say that these academic young people approach the Society with strong heart impulses and a special sensitivity to the way the anthroposophists reacted to them, and that they took everything not so much from a rational angle as in a spirit of keen feeling-judgment.
Now what lay behind all this?
The fact is, my dear friends, that young people today are having soul experiences that are making their first appearance on the stage of human evolution. This fact is not to be summed up in abstract, superficial phrases about a generation gap. That gap has always existed in some sense, and been especially marked in strong personalities while they were young and preparing themselves for life at an educational institution. We need only recall certain characteristic examples. You can read in Goethe's Truth and Science how, when he was a student in Leipzig, he stayed away from lectures because he found them so terribly boring, and went instead to the pretzel bakeshop across the street to chat with companions while Professor Ludwig and others held forth in the lecture halls on learned doctrines.
But despite the ever-present generation gap, even these somewhat radical members of the younger generation eventually took over their inheritance from their elders. The geniuses among them did likewise. Goethe most certainly remained an incomparable genius to the day he died. But when it came to taking part in the life of his time, he became not simply Goethe the genius but the fat privy councillor with the double chin. That must also be recognized.
These things have to be looked at in a completely unprejudiced way. Until the last third of the nineteenth century, the generation gap about which people talk superficially today was always there, but it was resolved in good philistine style, with youth gradually absorbing more and more philistine characteristics and entering, as it always had, into what its elders passed on to it.
Today, however, that is no longer possible. If one were to use terminology borrowed from Oriental wisdom, one would have to say that it became impossible when Kali Yuga ended, because from that time forward social life was no longer ruled by the principle of authoritarianism as it had been heretofore. Mankind's involvement in the consciousness soul phase of its development took ever more marked effect. This lived in the souls of people born in the 1890's and in the first few years of the twentieth century, perhaps not in a sharply defined form, but nevertheless in an extremely strong instinctive way. This inner life of theirs has to be really lovingly contemplated by older people if they want to understand it. That takes quite a bit of doing. For our culture, our civilization has assumed a form, especially in educational institutions, which makes the resolving of problems between youth and age that always used to take place no longer possible. Young people of the present feel this; it is their inner destiny. It shapes every aspect of their lives, and means that they approach life with a quite definite craving or demand. This predisposes present-day young people to become seekers, but seekers of a wholly different stripe than their elders.
This holds true of them in every area of life, and especially in the spiritual area. It is very strange how the older generation has been reacting to them for some time past. I have not neglected to call your attention to characteristic instances. Let me remind you of the lecture I gave on Gregor Mendel. Every now and then, scientists of the twentieth century have rather vehemently stated it as their opinion that Gregor Mendel, a Moravian, the solitary schoolmaster who later became an abbot, was a genius who had made remarkable contributions to the work of determining the laws of heredity. If we review Gregor Mendel's relationship to the educational institutions he attended, we cannot miss the fact that when he was old enough to take his examinations for the teaching profession he failed them by a wide margin. He was thereupon given time to prepare himself for a second try. Again he flunked. At that time—I am speaking of the 1850's—people were a lot more tolerant than they became later. So, in spite of his two failures to pass his teacher's examinations, Mendel was appointed to a secondary school position, and he became the man who accomplished something regarded as one of the greatest feats in the field of modern natural science.
Let us take another case closer at hand: that of Röntgen. Nowadays nobody doubts that Röntgen is one of the greatest men of modern times. But he was dismissed from secondary school as a hopeless case. He had the greatest trouble getting a position as a tutor because he couldn't finish school; he had been thrown out, and later just barely managed to get into a college, where he finally graduated. But even then he was unable to get a tutorial post in the field in which he sought it. In spite of this, he performed one of the most epoch-making feats in the fields of practical and theoretical science.
These examples could be multiplied ad infinitum. On every hand we find indications of the unbridgeable gap between what older times had to offer and what lives in youth in an indefinable way.
Putting the matter in rather radical terms, one can say that modern youth could not care less how many Egyptian kings' graves are opened; they are not much concerned with that. But they do care about finding far more original sources of serving human progress than the opening of ancient kings' graves offers. Youth feels that we have entered upon a phase of mankind's evolution in which much more elementary, more original sources will have to be drawn upon for its furthering.
Now we can certainly say that young people with this longing have done a great deal of searching during the first two decades of the twentieth century. Then they came to know of anthroposophy and felt at once that it led to the primal sources of their seeking, to the deepest origin of humanness. They then approached the Anthroposophical Society. And last Monday or Tuesday a representative of these young people said in Stuttgart that they had received a shock on approaching it, that the contrast between the Anthroposophical Society and anthroposophy had startled them. This is a very weighty fact, is it not? It cannot simply be dismissed. You have to consider what young people, especially those from the universities, have had to suffer.
Let us say, for example, that they wanted to take a doctorate in one of the freer branches of learning and teaching, such as the history of literature. How were things done in the last third of the nineteenth century? Where did most of them get the themes for their dissertations? For brevity's sake I will have to put it rather radically. The professor had undertaken to write a book about the Romantic school. So he assigned one student Novalis, another Friedrich Schlegel, a third August Wilhelm Schlegel, and a fourth Ernst Theodor Amadeus Hoffmann—if they were lucky. If they weren't, they were assigned dissertations on Hoffmann's punctuation or his use of parentheses. The professor then read through these dissertations and took the substance of his book from them. It had all become quite mechanical. The young person was just part of a mechanism, a learned mechanism, and if I may repeat myself, after the end of Kali Yuga everything that lived in an elemental way in the youthful soul rebelled against this sort of thing. I am citing just one of countless possible examples of the same phenomenon.
Now here we have these two factors side by side: the Anthroposophical Society, in the form it had assumed during its two decades—a form I need not describe, as everyone can picture it for himself from his own standpoint—and the young students. But what the Society was encountering in these young people was simply the keenest and most radical fringe of an omnipresent element. This fact stood out only too plainly at the Stuttgart meetings.
On the one hand, the leaders of the old society were committed to what had gradually taken on fixed forms. One was perhaps a Waldorf teacher, another an office manager at “Der Kommende Tag.” We have to give all due weight to the fact that all these people were overwhelmed with work. Everybody in the Society who had any free time had been drawn into these enterprises. Rightly or wrongly, this caused a certain bureaucratic spirit to spring up in the Society.
Among these undertakings was the “Union for the Threefold Membering of the Social Organism.” Right from the moment of its founding in 1919, it had a director, and after I had worked awhile with this Union I was compelled to say that I could not go on, that I would have to withdraw. As I said in Stuttgart recently, I had to strike out and simply declare that I could not go on.
Then another director, an excellent man, took things over. I was unable to get to Stuttgart for several weeks, but when I eventually arrived, I was anxious to find out what had been happening. There were a number of matters awaiting disposition, so a meeting was held and I was informed about what had transpired. I was told, “Well, we've been setting up a card file. We have small cards on the lower right-hand section of which we clip the smaller newspaper items, and then we file them in cabinets. Then there are larger cards made of heavier paper to which we attach longer magazine articles, and there are other cards of still another size for filing letters that come in.” This went on and on. Hours were spent describing the way the card file was set up, the sacrifice and devotion with which people had been working on it for many weeks, what it contained, how everything had been so neatly stowed away in it. Now I had a mental picture of this card file with all the various sizes of cards in it, and the marvellous record there of everything that had been going on in the Society and what our opponents had been up to. It was all beautifully recorded! There must have been a simply huge pile of these cards stacked up in layers. But the people sitting there vanished as though they were ghosts; only the card file was real. Everything had been recorded!
I said, “Well, my dear friends, do you have heads as well as a card file? I am not in the least interested in your files, only in what you have in your heads.”
I am sure you will understand that I am not criticizing, just reporting, for the people who had arranged the files were groaning under the tremendous burden of their work. But on the other hand, just imagine youth coming there with their hearts on fire with enthusiasm for ideals that encompassed the whole future, only to be told the story of the card files. I am not saying that it was superfluous to have files or that they were of no value; I am saying that they were excellent and vitally necessary. But that is not the way things should be going. Hearts were needed to go out to hearts.
Now this created all sorts of impossible situations. These and many other problems finally reached a point where a reorganization of the Society had to be considered. There had to be a chance for the Society to provide human beings with opportunities to work in it, to live out their special individual capacities, to find and breathe an atmosphere in which they could go on developing. These were absolutely fundamental problems that the Society was facing. A complete revision of all the conditions surrounding its life was indicated, and that it has a tremendous life-potential is shown in the fact that youth has now approached it full of teeming inner life. But the contrasts grew and grew.
Of course, there were some individuals in the older group who had never taken any interest in the card files (if I may use the files as symptomatic of the whole approach in question). Some of these others may have been very old indeed, but still not have wanted to bother with things like the files, which had gradually become a necessity. There were definitely such members who had joined the Society as early as 1902 or 1903, who, though they may have been very different from the young people in many other respects too, had also never concerned themselves with what I will term the history of the Society.
So we faced extraordinarily difficult problems at the preliminary meetings. An incalculable weight of worry burdened one's soul.
But we don't need to talk about those sessions now. The Delegates' Conference, a summons to which was the outcome of the preparatory meetings, was held in Stuttgart last Sunday. The first order of business was to hear what the provisional steering committee, which was made up for various reasons of members of the erstwhile Central Executive and called the Committee of Nine, had to say about the past and present and future of the Anthroposophical Society. Then the German and Austrian members were to be given a hearing in the persons of their delegates.
Well, things proceeded as planned. But since I want to give you just a brief sketch of what led to the final decision, I will refrain from describing what amounted to a veritable hailstorm of motions. Scarcely was one taken care of and the business of the meeting resumed than two or three more fairly flew up to the chairman's table. It can only be described as a hailstorm, and there seemed to be no end to the discussion about them. But I will skip over all this and stress instead that absolutely excellent talks were given, penetrating, deeply anthroposophical talks. Albert Steffen spoke wonderful, heartfelt, profound words. Mr. Werbeck gave a masterly description of the categories of our opponents and of their relationship to the Anthroposophical Movement and to the rest of civilization. Dr. Büchenbacher gave a vivid account of the way people who entered the Society from about 1917 on responded to what they encountered in it. As to the fact that not everything said was first-rate and as to some lesser contributions in between, it is probably better to maintain a courteous silence. But excellent, magnificent contributions were interspersed among what I will refer to as “others.” In spite of this, Sunday and Monday and Tuesday passed, and by Tuesday evening a point was reached where one could see clearly that if the next day, the final one, were to be anything like the preceding ones, the delegates would leave as they had come. For almost nothing of what lived in the many individuals assembed in the hall had really come out, even though much anthroposophical substance had been contributed in excellent speeches. This was an assemblage of human beings and the speeches all dealt with realities, but there was no living reality in the meetings, just abstraction; they were a classic example of life lived in the abstract. By Tuesday evening real chaos reigned. Everybody was talking past everybody else.
Now I had no choice but to decide to make a proposal of my own directly after the Tuesday lecture that had been scheduled for me—a proposal based on what lived in the people represented there—and almost the entire membership of the German and Austrian Societies was present. But one had to get at what was real there and pull it together. I was to speak on Tuesday about community building, a theme called for by much that had been said. So I made a proposal. I said that we could see how everyone was talking past the others and that nothing that was being said was bringing the underlying realities of the situation to the surface. Leaving other aspects aside for the moment, one could distinguish two types of feeling, two differing viewpoints, two sets of opinions. One type is represented by the old Anthroposophical Society and the committee speaking for it; the other is made up of individuals who, to put it as exactly as possible, have no real interest in the stand taken by the committee representing the Society. They are individuals completely without interest in what the committee had to say, though they are fine anthroposophists: One can scarcely imagine anything finer than the contributions made by the young people at the Stuttgart conference; they reflected an energetic, wonderful spirit. The soul of youth made a noble impression as it urgently stormed the gates of anthroposophy. But here too there was no interest in what the Society was as a society, or in what it stood for.
A phenomenon like this has to be taken as a reality. We have to learn to see it as a fact; there is no use acting like blind men and closing our eyes to it. So I had no choice but to say that since we were confronted there with these two types, any abstract talk about reaching agreement was simply false. The old society cannot be other than it is, nor can the second group. The Society as a whole will therefore have the best chance of continuance if each faction goes its own way, with the old aristocracy—no, let me rather call them the members of the older society, laden down with history—forming one group, and the stormily progressive old and young forming another.
There is in existence an ancient draft of a constitution for the Anthroposophical Society. I can recommend its study to both parties! Each of them can carry out its provisions quite literally, but the outcome will be entirely different in the two cases. That is the way things are in real life, no matter how they may look in theory.
So I made the proposal that the old Anthroposophical Society continue with its Committee of Nine. I characterized things in the following way. I said that the old society included the prominent Stuttgart members who carry on their separate undertakings in exemplary fashion and do a tremendous lot of work; in fact, one of their outstanding characteristics, demonstrated during the four days of the conference, was the weariness they brought with them from their previous labors. I said that when I come to Stuttgart and find something needing to be done, I have only to press a button; that is the way it has been in recent years. These leading personalities in Stuttgart are extremely insightful. They grasp everything immediately without one's having to say very much. There would never be time enough to discuss everything at length. Theirs is a lightning grasp; one need only touch on a matter to have it absolutely clear to them. But for the most part they do nothing about it. Then there is the other party, full of anthroposophical soulfulness, whole-heartedly immersed in anthroposophy. I can also say something to the leaders of this group. They understand nothing of what I am saying, but they do it that very instant. That is a tremendous difference. The first group understands immediately, but does nothing. The second category understands nothing; they only give promise of eventually understanding everything; they are full of energy and feeling, but they do the things at once. They do everything without understanding it.
So there will have to be two quite differently constituted groups in the Society if it is to stay united. One group should never be allowed to get in the way of the other's functioning. There is the one group—what name shall I give it, since we have to have one? It's just a question of terminology, of course. Let's call it the conservative, the traditional party, the neatly-filed members (not to limit the term to just a set of cards), the party that occupies the curule seats. People in this party have titles: president, vice president, and so on, and administer the Society. They sit there and have a routine procedure for everything. I see a man in the audience looking at me significantly who, while I was still in Stuttgart, was in a position to inform me what such procedures sometimes lead to. For example, a credit slip for a sum like 21 marks was sent out, and it cost 150 marks to send it. That is what it costs these days to send mail to foreign countries: 150 marks. If one wants to write somebody that a credit of 21 marks has been entered on the books to his account, it costs 150 marks to do it properly. That is the way things go in an orderly ABC set-up. So there we have the party of routines, the old Anthroposophical Society. One can belong to it and be a good member. Then there is the free union of individuals who care not a whit for all that sort of thing, who simply want a loose association based on a purely human element. These two streams should now be acknowledged.
I started by giving just a thumbnail sketch of this, a mere indication. That same evening a speech was made, maintaining that it would be the worst thing that could possibly happen, for it would split the Society in two, and so on. But that was the reality of the situation! If a move were to be made that fitted the facts rather than the way people thought—for what they think is seldom as significant as what they are—it had to be the one suggested, for that would fit the realities involved. As I said, a speech was instantly made about it, warning of the terrible consequences that would ensue if anything of the sort were to prove necessary, and so on.
Even in an external, purely spatial sense, the outcome was chaos. The hall was crammed with people huddled in groups, leaving no loopholes to squeeze through between them, and they all stopped me to ask what this or that had meant. The inner chaos of the situation had become outer chaos by eleven o'clock that Tuesday evening when I tried to leave the assembly hall.
I arrived, rather weary, at the place where I was staying. At midnight someone came to fetch me. I wasn't quite on the point of going to sleep. Someone came and said that a meeting was underway down in the Landhausstrasse. I was stopped again on my way to the floor where the meeting was in progress, and drawn into a side-meeting, so that it was nearly one o'clock in the morning by the time I arrived where I was supposed to be. But it was at once apparent that my proposal had been understood after all, quite correctly understood. Now the details could be profitably discussed. It had become clear that something could really be done on the basis proposed.
Certain doubts were expressed, as was perfectly natural. It was said, for example, that there were members who sympathized with the young people and wanted to go along with their aims, but who nevertheless belonged historically to the old society and even held positions in it, which they wanted to keep so they could go on working there.
I said that this could easily be solved. The only problem in the case of individuals who join both sections is to arrange that they pay only one membership fee. Surely some technical means of doing this can be worked out. There should be no question of anyone being excluded from one of the sections because he is a member of the other. In all such matters, we should simply see to it that the realities of a situation have a chance to be recognized.
I went on to say that the various institutions can also accommodate both directions. I can easily conceive the possibility of a Waldorf teacher leaning toward the looser association and becoming part of it while a colleague feels drawn to and joins the more tightly organized group. They will, of course, still work together at the Waldorf School in a perfectly harmonious spirit.
Yesterday some people were wondering how life in this or that branch of the Society would be affected. I asked why adherents of the two groups should not be able to sit beside each other at branch meetings. But the inner realities must always be given a chance to live themselves out. When a thing is conceived in a realistic spirit, there is always a way of working it out, and this makes for unity.
It took only until 2:15 a.m. for the young people to become clear on essentials. There were, however, some white-haired young ones among them who could look back over a span of quite a few decades. It became clear, as Tuesday night changed into Wednesday morning, that the proposal would work.
Wednesday was devoted to discussing these plans. And Wednesday evening witnessed their adoption—I will give you just the résumé, and then add a few supplementary comments to this report.
So there we now have the old Anthroposophical Society with its Committee of Nine as described, and the other looser, freer Anthroposophical Society whose chief striving it is to get anthroposophy out into the world and to work for a deepening of man's inner life.
Tomorrow and the following day I will review the most important aspects of the two lectures I delivered in Stuttgart. They are intimately bound up with the life in the Anthroposophical Society, for the first lecture was on the subject of community building and the second on the reasons why societies based on brotherliness are so given to quarreling.
A provisional committee was formed for the loose association. It was made up of Herr Leinhas, Herr Lehrs, Dr. Röschl, Herr Maikowski, Dr. Büchenbacher, Herr Rath, Herr von Grone, Rector Bartsch from Breslau, and Herr Schröder. You notice that not all of them are extremely young; their number includes dignified patriarchs. So the radicalism of youth will not be the only standpoint represented, but it will certainly be able to make itself felt.
That is the way things came out. Now they need only be rightly managed. The loose association undertook specifically to form smaller, closer communities—to work for anthroposophy exoterically on a big scale, and to work esoterically on a small scale forming communities held together not so much by any set system of external organization as by inner, karmic ties.
These, then, were the two groupings we came out with. I will have something more to say about them tomorrow and the next day. It was a very necessary development! Anything that is alive refuses to let itself be preserved in old, preconceived forms; arrangements must change with and adapt themselves to the living.
You remember my saying as I left for Stuttgart that the Society's whole problem was really one of tailoring. Anthroposophy has grown, and its suit, the Anthroposophical Society—for the Society has gradually become that—has grown too small. The sleeves scarcely reach to the elbows, the trousers to the knees. Well, I won't labor the analogy. The suit looked grotesque, and this was apparent to any wholehearted person who has recently joined the Society.
Now we shall have to see whether this effort to make a new, more fitting garment rather than take the old one apart—for it would certainly get torn—will succeed. It definitely has the inner capacity to do so. We shall have to see whether people develop the strength essential to this way of working. Real life presents very different possibilities from those of theory, and that holds true in this case also. We will have to create something that can really stand the test of life.
Now there we have Herr von Grone, who is a member of both committees, the committee of the free and the committee of the more tightly organized; he will serve on both. Things will work out best if we let everybody function in his own way, either as a patriarch or as a young enthusiast, and if someone wants to be both at once, why should he not be a two-headed creature? It is absolutely vital that people's energies develop freely.
Certain things won't work, of course. I was told about one such situation, where the chairman of a group once had the startling experience of yielding the floor to someone who launched out on a flaming address only to have another person talk at the same time. The chairman said, “Friends, this is impossible!” “Why that?” was the answer. “We're trying to live a philosophy of freedom here! Why should one's freedom be limited by allowing only one person to speak? Why can't several talk at the same time?” You will agree that some things won't work, but fortunately they're not always specifically called for.
I, for my part, am thoroughly convinced that things will work again for awhile. Not for always, though; nothing can be set up for eternity. As time passes we will again find ourselves confronted with the necessity of devising new garments for the anthroposophical organism. But every human being shares that destiny; one can't keep on wearing the same old clothes. An organization is actually never anything more than a garment for some living element. Why, then, should one make a special case of social organisms and try to tailor them for eternity? Everything living has to undergo change, and only what changes is alive. In the case of something as particularly teeming with life as the Anthroposophical Movement we must therefore shape a life-adapted organization. Of course we can't attempt reorganization every single day, but we will certainly find it necessary to do so every other year or so. Otherwise the chairs occupied by the leading members will really become curule seats, and when some people make a specialty of resting on the curule seats, those not occupying them begin to itch. We must find a way to make sitters on curule seats itchy too. In other words, we're going to have to start jostling these chairs a little. But if we find the right way of arranging things, everything will go beautifully.
My dear friends, my intention was to give you a report. I certainly did not feel it to be a joking matter. But things of real life are sometimes just exactly those most suited to a slightly humoristic treatment.
Achter Vortrag
Die Stuttgarter Versammlung ist vorgestern abend abgeschlossen worden, und Sie werden wahrscheinlich dieMeinung haben, daß ich Ihnen nun einiges von dem, was da in Stuttgart sich zugetragen hat, berichten soll. Es ist so, daß sich schon ein gewisses Ergebnis herausgebildet hat, ein Ergebnis, das angesichts der wirklichen Verhältnisse nicht anders sein kann. Um das, was da entstanden ist, völlig zu verstehen, wird es nötig sein, skizzenhaft eine Art Bericht über die Entwickelung der Dinge zu geben. Sie wissen ja aus den Andeutungen, die ich im Laufe der letzten Wochen gemacht habe, daß der Stuttgarter Versammlung wochenlange Vorbereitungen vorangegangen sind. Diese Vorbereitungen, die für alle Beteiligten eigentlich recht aufreibend waren, liefen darauf hinaus, durch das Ins-Leben-treten-Lassen der Bedingungen der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft dieser für die nächste Zeit eine Zukunft zu geben.
Berücksichtigt bei allen diesen Dingen muß ja werden, daß dasjenige, was sich in Stuttgart zugetragen hat, ganz unbeeinflußt, wenigstens seinen Ausgangspunkten, seinem Ursprunge nach, von den traurigen Ereignissen des Goetheanumbrandes ist. Denn daß irgend etwas zur Konsolidierung der Gesellschaft zu geschehen habe, war ja bereits Anfang Dezember von mir mit einem Mitgliede des Vorstandes besprochen worden, mit dem Auftrage, daß der ganze Zentralvorstand mit andern Persönlichkeiten sich mit der Sache befassen solle. So daß also das, was sich in Stuttgart abgespielt hat, in geradliniger Fortsetzung dessen steht, was am 10.Dezember von mir als Ergebnis der Beobachtung über die gegenwärtige Situation in der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft zu Herrn Uehli gesprochen worden war.
In diese Ereignisse fiel als schmerzliche Tatsache der Brand des Goetheanum hinein. Aber auch, wenn wir heute noch das Goetheanum hier stehen hätten, wie es war, so würden sich alle diese Dinge in der ganz gleichen Weise haben abspielen müssen. Denn was lag eigentlich vor? Es lag dieses vor, daß die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft, wie sie sich seit zwei Jahrzehnten allmählich entwickelt hat, eine bestimmte Form und Gestaltung angenommen hat, eine Form und Gestaltung, die insbesondere modifiziert worden war seit dem Jahre 1919 durch die verschiedenen Unternehmungen, die ihr eingefügt worden sind.
Es könnte leicht scheinen, als ob, wenn man so etwas ausspricht: die verschiedenen Unternehmungen, die der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft eingefügt worden sind - man ein abfälliges Urteil über diese Unternehmungen aussprechen würde. Das ist aber durchaus nicht der Fall. Ich brauche nur die Waldorfschule zu nennen, die zu diesen Unternehmungen gehört, so wird Ihnen ja klar sein, daß es sich um etwas ganz anderes handelt, als um das Aussprechen irgendeines oberflächlichen Urteils. Gegen den Wert und die Bedeutung dieser Unternehmungen soll ja gar nichts eingewendet werden, auch nicht in bezug auf die hauptsächlichsten, nichts gegen die Führung, gegen die Leitung dieser Unternehmungen.
Was da verhandelt worden ist und verhandelt werden sollte, war lediglich die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft, ihre Gestaltung, ihre ganze Konfiguration als solche. Nun ist es ja schwierig, wirklichkeitsgemäß diese Gestaltung der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft, die weit verzweigt ist, zu schildern, aber ich denke, jeder von Ihnen weiß ja von einem gewissen Gesichtspunkte aus, was die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft geworden ist bis zum heutigen Tage, und er kann sich auch manches selbst schildern nach dem, was auch von mir hier im Laufe der letzten Wochen angeführt worden ist; er kann sich diese Schilderung dann ergänzen.
Nun ist eines der besonders wichtigen Ereignisse, die sich im Leben dieser Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft ereignet haben, dieses, daß den führenden Persönlichkeiten, oder wenigstens einer größeren Zahl der führenden Persönlichkeiten, für die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft aus dem, was sich aus ihr herausgebildet hat, ganz bestimmte, und zwar anthroposophische Aufgaben zugewachsen sind. Diese anthroposophischen Aufgaben harren seit 1919 ihrer Lösung. Sie waren eben nicht gelöst, und daher mußte am 10. Dezember des vorigen Jahres, als sich die Dinge nun, ich möchte sagen, mit aller Deutlichkeit gezeigt hatten, in der Weise, wie ich es eben getan habe, zu dem Zentralvorstand in Stuttgart gesprochen werden.
Eine der letzten Begründungen, die aus der anthroposophischen Bewegung herausgewachsen sind, ist ja die Bewegung für religiöse Erneuerung, die insbesondere viel zu der Krisis der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft in der letzten Zeit beigetragen hat. Das ist eine Seite der Tatsachen, die im Leben der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft aufgetreten sind.
Die andere Seite ist, daß Jugend herangekommen ist, Jugend mit inniger Begeisterung für die Anthroposophie, für alles das, was Anthroposophie enthält, namentlich auch akademische Jugend, mit ganz bestimmten Erwartungen, mit ganz bestimmten Vorstellungen von dem, was in der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft gefunden werden kann, mit bestimmten Empfindungen, die man etwa so charakterisieren könnte, daß man sagt: Mit starken inneren Herzensimpulsen kam die Jugend an die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft heran und war besonders sensitiv für alles, was ihr entgegentrat aus den Reihen der Anthroposophen, nahm alles in einem zwar nicht verstandesmäßigen, aber scharfen Empfindungsurteil auf. Was lag denn da zugrunde?
Ja, meine lieben Freunde, die Jugend von heute hat eben innere Seelenerlebnisse, die in einem gewissen Sinne zum erstenmal in die menschheitliche Entwickelung hereintreten. Dadurch, daß man abstrakt und oberflächlich von dem Gegensatz der älteren und jüngeren Generation spricht, ist es nicht getan. Dieser Gegensatz war in einem gewissen Sinne immer vorhanden, und er war vorhanden insbesondere bei denen, die sich als starke Individualitäten in ihrem jugendlichen Lebensalter in den verschiedenen Bildungsanstalten heranbilden wollten für das Leben. Man braucht nur an typisch charakteristische Beispiele zu erinnern. Lesen Sie in Goethes «Dichtung und Wahrheit», wie er in Leipzig, statt in die Kollegien zu gehen, weil diese ihm furchtbar langweilig waren, zu der Bretzelbäckerin vis-à-vis hinging und da sich mit seinen Kameraden unterhielt, während der Professor Ludwig und andere drüben in den Hörsälen ihre gescheiten Lehren tradierten. Aber trotz dieses Gegensatzes, der ja immer vorhanden war, liefen ja auch diese, ich möchte sagen, etwas radikalen Mitglieder des Jugendtums immer ein in dasjenige, was eben von der alten Generation als Erbschaft vorhanden war. Auch die genialen Menschen liefen ein. Goethe ist ganz gewiß der unermeßliche Genius geblieben bis zu seinem Tode; allein in bezug auf das Sich-Hineinstellen in das unmittelbare Leben wurde er ja nicht nur der Genius Goethe, sondern auch der dicke Geheimrat mit dem Doppelkinn. Das ist auch eine Wahrheit.
Nun, diese Dinge muß man nur ganz unbefangen betrachten. Es war eben so bis zum letzten Drittel des 19. Jahrhunderts, daß zwar der Gegensatz, von dem man auch heute eben oberflächlich spricht, daß der Gegensatz zwischen alt und jung schon vorhanden war, daß er aber im Sinne des Philisteriums ausgeglichen wurde, daß sich die Jugend eben immer mehr anphilisterte dem, was als die Erbschaft von dem Alten geblieben war, sie lief ein in diese Erbschaft. Das aber ist heute nicht mehr möglich.
Wenn man in der Terminologie, die aus der orientalischen Weisheit entnommen ist, sprechen wollte, müßte man sagen: Das ist nach dem Ablauf des Kali Yuga nicht mehr möglich, weil das Prinzip der Autorität nicht mehr in derselben Weise das soziale Leben durchströmt, wie das früher der Fall war. - Immer mehr und mehr macht es sich geltend, daß die Menschheit in das Zeitalter der Bewußtseinsseelenentwickelung eingetreten ist. Und das lebt auf eine allerdings nicht klar umrissene, aber instinktiv außerordentlich starke Weise in denjenigen Menschen, die in den neunziger Jahren oder vielleicht auch im Anfang des 20. Jahrhunderts geboren sind, oder später, und die ein Innenleben haben, das eben wirklich in liebevoller Weise von den Älteren angesehen werden sollte, wenn es verstanden werden soll. Und das kann nicht so ohne weiteres sein, denn unsere Kultur und Zivilisation hat solche Formen angenommen, insbesondere in unseren Bildungsanstalten, daß jene Ausgleichung zwischen alt und jung, die früher immer vorhanden war, jetzt eben nicht mehr vorhanden ist. Das fühlen die jungen Menschen der Gegenwart, das ist ihr inneres Schicksal. Das ist etwas, was, ich möchte sagen, den Duktus ihres ganzen Lebens ausmacht, und das gestaltet eine bestimmte Art des Verlangens an das Leben. Das bedingt, daß die Menschen, die jung sind, heute Suchende sind, aber Suchende in einer ganz andern Weise, als die älteren Menschen Suchende waren.
Auf allen Gebieten des Lebens, namentlich auf allen Gebieten des geistigen Lebens ist das so. Reagiert hat ja schon längst in einer merkwürdigen Weise die Kultur des Alters auf die Jugend. Ich habe ja nicht versäumt, auch hier charakteristische Beispiele dafür anzuführen. Ich erinnere Sie an den Vortrag, den ich über Gregor Mendel gehalten habe. Im 20. Jahrhundert trat unter den Naturwissenschaftern ganz sporadisch mit einer gewissen Vehemenz die Meinung auf, daß Gregor Mendel aus Mähren, der einsame Schullehrer, Gymnasiallehrer und spätere Abt, ein genialer Mensch war, der Großartiges geleistet hat für die Aufstellung der Vererbungsgesetze. Ja, wenn wir aber nun das Verhältnis dieses Gregor Mendel zu den Bildungsanstalten, in denen er war, betrachten, so müssen wir nicht vergessen, daß er, als er das nötige Alter hatte und seine Lehramtsprüfung ablegen sollte, glänzend durchfiel. Es wurde ihm dann eine Zeit gegeben, nach welcher er noch einmal diese Lehramtsprüfung ablegen konnte. Er fiel wieder durch. Nun war man dazumal in den fünfziger Jahren noch toleranter als später: Trotzdem er zweimal durchgefallen war in der Lehramtsprüfung, stellte man ihn als Gymnasiallehrer an. Und er wurde dann derjenige, der etwas ausgestaltete, was man eine der großartigsten Taten auf dem Gebiete der Naturwissenschaft der heutigen Zeit nennt.
Oder nehmen Sie irgend etwas ganz Naheliegendes: Röntgen - kein Mensch wird heute bezweifeln, daß Röntgen zu den größten Geistern der Gegenwart gehört. Aus dem Gymnasium ist er eines Tages hinausgeworfen worden, er konnte es überhaupt nicht durchmachen. Es war auch nur mit großer Mühe zu erreichen, daß er überhaupt die Dozentur bekam, weil es, nun ja, nicht ging auf den Bildungsanstalten, weil er schon, wie gesagt, aus dem Gymnasium herausgeworfen worden war und später notdürftig auf einer Hochschule untergebracht wurde, auf der es dann ging. Aber da konnte er wieder nicht die Dozentur erreichen in dem Fache, in dem er sie erreichen sollte. Nun wurde er aber doch der Ausgestalter einer der epochemachendsten Taten auf dem Gebiete der praktischen und theoretischen Naturwissenschaft. Ja man könnte diese Beispiele ins Unermeßliche vermehren. Überall zeigt sich eben dieses Wetterleuchten des unüberbrückbaren Gegensatzes der Erbschaft von älteren Zeiten und dessen, was einfach in einer undefinierbaren Weise in der Jugend lebt.
Nun kann man sagen, etwas radikal gesprochen, dieser Jugend ist es ganz gewiß höchst gleichgültig, wieviel Königsgräber in Ägypten noch geöffnet werden, darauf kommt es ihr gar nicht so stark an. Aber dieser Jugend kommt es darauf an, etwas zu finden, was aus viel ursprünglicheren Quellen zur Anregung desMenschentums dient als die Offnung alter Königsgräber. Die Jugend hat das Gefühl, daß wir heute in einem Zeitpunkte der Menschheitsentwickelung sind, wo aus viel elementareren, ursprünglicheren Quellen geschöpft werden muß für das Menschtum.
Nun kann man durchaus sagen, vieles ist im Laufe der zwei ersten Jahrzehnte des 20. Jahrhunderts von der Jugend mit diesem Verlangen gesucht worden. Da lernte diese Jugend die Anthroposophie kennen, und da fühlte sie, man kommt da an dieses Elementare heran, es rührt das an die tiefsten Quellen des Menschtums. Und dann kam diese Jugend an die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft heran. Und einer der Vertreter dieser Jugend hat am Montag oder Dienstag in Stuttgart gesagt: Und nun war sie schockiert, denn als sie herankam, bekam sie einen wahren Schreck, wie die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft ist gegenüber der Anthroposophie. — Ja, nicht wahr, es ist eine der wichtigsten Tatsachen; sie läßt sich nicht hinwegdekretieren. Sie müssen nur bedenken, was schließlich diese Jugend, gerade die akademische Jugend alles erleben mußte.
Da wollten also, sagen wir in einem der geistig freiesten Lehr- und Lernzweige, zum Beispiel in der Literaturgeschichte, diese jungen Leute nun eben diesen Bildungsgang durchmachen, wollten dann ihr Doktorat machen. Wie war es denn im letzten Drittel des 19. Jahrhunderts? Wie kamen denn die meisten zu einer Dissertation, zu einer Doktorschrift? Da hatte der Professor - man muß natürlich die Dinge zusammenfassen und sie radikal schildern - sich die Aufgabe gestellt, ein Buch zu schreiben über die romantischen Schulen. Nun hatte er seine Studenten zu seiner Auswahl: Da gab er dem einen eine Aufgabe über Novalis, der andere bekam eine Aufgabe über Friedrich Schlegel, der andere über August Wilhelm Schlegel, der dritte über Ernst Theodor Amadeus Hoffmann - wenn es gut ging. Wenn es nicht gut ging, dann bekam der betreffende Kandidat eine Dissertation über die Interpunktionen oder über die Klammern in dem Satzgefüge bei Ernst Theodor Amadeus Hoffmann. Das alles hatte dann der Professor durchzuarbeiten, und es ergab sich ihm dann daraus der Inhalt seines Buches über die romantischeSchule. Da war alles, ich möchte sagen, ins Mechanische hineingezogen. Der junge Mensch war ein Glied in einem Mechanismus, in einem geistigen Mechanismus geworden. Dagegen revoltierte nun dasjenige, was, wenn ich mich des Ausdrucks noch einmal bedienen darf, eben als etwas ganz Elementares nach dem Ablaufe des Kali Yuga in der jugendlichen Seele lebte. Natürlich wären noch unzählige andere Erscheinungen anzuführen.
Nun, diese zwei Dinge standen nebeneinander da: die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft, wie sie eben geworden war durch zwei Jahrzehnte — wie gesagt, ich brauche sie nicht zu schildern, jeder kann sie sich schildern von seinem Perspektivpunkte aus -, und auf der andern Seite die akademische Jugend. Aber im Grunde genommen war wiederum gegenüber der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft diese akademische Jugend nur der schärfste, radikalste Repräsentant desjenigen, was sonst ja auch vorhanden war. Das trat gerade bei der Stuttgarter Versammlung sehr kraß zutage.
Man hatte auf der einen Seite die führenden Persönlichkeiten der alten Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft überall, ich möchte sagen, engagiert für das, was sich da in festen Formen herausgebildet hatte. Der eine war Waldorflehrer, der andere war Bürochef im «Kommenden Tag». Ja, die Leute hatten — das ist durchaus mit vollem Ernste zu nehmen — ungeheuer viel zu tun. Ich möchte sagen, alles, was in der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft an freier gestellten Persönlichkeiten war, war eingeflossen in diese Begründungen. Nun, ob mit Recht oder Unrecht, aber das führte auch in der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft einen gewissen, sagen wir, Bürokratismus, Schematismus herbei. Da war eine unter diesen Gründungen der «Bund für Dreigliederung des sozialen Organismus». Er hatte zunächst von dem Momente an, als er begründet worden war 1919, ein Oberhaupt, und ich war genötigt, nach einiger Zeit, nachdem ich mit diesem Bund gearbeitet hatte, zu sagen: Das geht nicht weiter, da mache ich nicht mehr mit. - Und, wie ich mich in Stuttgart ausdrückte in diesen Tagen, ich mußte mit den Ellenbogen dreinschlagen und einfach eines Tages sagen: Das geht nicht, da mache ich nicht mehr mit.
Nun kam ein anderes Haupt, ein ausgezeichneter Mensch. Ich kam damals mehrere Wochen nicht nach Stuttgart, kam dann wieder hin, hatte also mich darüber zu informieren, was geschehen war. Man wollte disponieren über weiteres. Da wurde eine Sitzung gehalten, ich wurde informiert über das, was geschehen war. Man teilte mir mit: Ja, wir sind jetzt so weit mit dem Anlegen einer Kartothek. Da haben wir kleinere Zettel, auf die schreiben wir die kleineren Zeitungsausschnitte, da kommt der Inhalt ungefähr rechts unten, und das wird dann in Stellagen gelegt. Dann gibt es größere Zettel, mit etwas dickerem Papier; da stehen dann die größeren Journalartikel. Dann wiederum gibt es Zettel von einem andern Format, dahin kommen die eingelaufenen Briefe. - Und so ging es fort. Viele Stunden wurde diese Anlegung der Kartothek geschildert und geschildert, wie seit vielen Wochen mit ungeheurer Opferwilligkeit und Hingabe gearbeitet wurde, um diese Kartothek anzulegen, und was da alles drinnen ist, wie da alles in absolutester Ordnung da drinnen ist. Nun hatte ich vor mir im Geiste das Bild dieser Kartothek, in allen möglichen Formaten die Zettel, alles in wunderbarster Weise registriert, was in der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft geschehen war, was von den Gegnern aus geschehen war. Alles wunderbar registriert! Die Haufen dieser Zettel, die da übereinanderlagen, mußten ungeheuer groß sein. Und die Menschen, die dasaßen, die verschwanden ganz zu Gespenstern; sie waren gar nicht mehr da, nur eine Kartothek war da. Alles war registriert.
Ich sagte: Ja, meine lieben Freunde, habt Ihr auch zu dieser Kartothek Köpfe? Mich interessiert ja die ganze Kartothek nicht, sondern nur, was in Ihren Köpfen drinnen ist. - Nicht wahr, ich will das gar nicht tadeln, ich will es nur erzählen, denn diejenigen, die das gemacht hatten, seufzten unter ihrer ungeheuren Arbeitslast. Aber auf der andern Seite, bedenken Sie doch nur wiederum, wenn da die herzbegeisterte Jugend mit den umfassendsten Zukunftsidealen hereinkam und man erzählte ihr von einer Kartothek!-Ich sage gar nicht, daß die Kartothek unnötig ist, ich sage auch nicht, daß sie schlecht war, ich sage, sie war ausgezeichnet, war auch außerordentlich notwendig; aber so geht es doch nicht. Es brauchte Herzen, die den Herzen entgegenkamen.
Daraus nun ergaben sich eben allerlei Unmöglichkeiten. Diese Unmöglichkeiten und vieles andere, die führten zuletzt das herbei, daß eben daran gedacht werden mußte: Die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft braucht eine Reorganisation. Sie braucht die Möglichkeit, daß in ihr menschliche Individualitäten ganz in ihrer Eigenart und mit der Möglichkeit, sich ganz auszuleben, wirklich darinnen wirkten und auch eine Atmosphäre fänden, in der sie, sich fortbildend, atmen könnten. Es waren also ganz fundamentale Probleme, die da an die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft herantraten. Es war eine Revision aller ihrer Lebensbedingungen notwendig. Und daß sie in ganz eminentem Sinne solche Lebensbedingungen hat, das geht ja einfach daraus hervor, daß eben die Jugend herankam mit dem innerlich strotzenden Leben. Aber die Gegensätze wurden immer größer.
Nun waren aber natürlich auch unter den Älteren solche Leute, die sich nie bekümmert hatten um die Kartotheken - die Kartothek ist hier nur der Repräsentant für ein ganzes System -, die also zwar vielleicht sehr alt waren, aber sich nicht um das, was schon einmal eine Notwendigkeit geworden war, bekümmern wollten. Es waren durchaus solche Mitglieder, die vielleicht schon 1902 oder 1903 Mitglieder geworden waren, die aber, wenn sie auch sonst vielleicht sich von der Jugend vielfach unterschieden, auch nicht näher herangekommen waren an dasjenige, was, ich möchte sagen, die Historie der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft ist.
Das war wirklich etwas außerordentlich Schwieriges, was da zunächst in den vorbereitenden Verhandlungen einem vor die Seele trat. Es konnte einen mit ganz unermeßlich großen Sorgen beladen. Nun, zunächst brauchen wir ja über die Verhandlungen nicht zu reden. Die Tagung der Delegierten, zu der aufgefordert worden war — diese Aufforderung war das Ergebnis der Verhandlungen -, fand also am letzten Sonntag in Stuttgart statt. Zunächst handelte es sich darum, daß jenes provisorische Führerkomitee, das sich aus allerlei Erwägungen aus dem alten Zentralvorstand heraus gebildet hatte, daß also das Neunerkomitee von sich aus über Vergangenheit, Gegenwart und Zukunft in der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft sprechen sollte, daß dann die ganze Gesellschaft innerhalb Deutschlands und Österreichs zu Worte kommen sollte durch ihre Delegierten. Nun rollte also die Sache ab. Da ich Ihnen ja nur eine kurze Skizze geben möchte von dem, was schließlich zu dem Ergebnis geführt hat, will ich nicht davon sprechen, daß es also wirklich «hagelte» von Geschäftsordnungsanträgen. Kaum war irgendein Geschäftsordnungsantrag erledigt und man fing wiederum an, sachlich zu sprechen, flugs flogen wiederum zwei, drei Geschäftsordnungsanträge auf den Präsidententisch. Es hagelte nur so; da kam man gar nicht zu Ende mit dem Besprechen dieser Geschäftsordnungsanträge. Aber davon will ich nicht sprechen. Ich will darauf hinweisen, daß wirklich Ausgezeichnetes geredet worden ist, wirklich Eindringliches, tief Anthroposophisches ist gesprochen worden. Wunderbare, herzhafte, tiefgründige Worte hat Albert Steffen gesprochen. In genialer Weise hat Werbeck die Kategorien der Gegner und ihre Beziehung zur anthroposophischen Bewegung und zur ganzen Zivilisation geschildert. Lebendig ist von Dr. Büchenbacher geschildert worden, wie so jemand, der 1917 oder 1918 oder 1919 oder 1920 oder 1923 in die Gesellschaft eingetreten ist, gefühlt hat, nach dem, was da ihm entgegengebracht worden ist. Daß nicht alles gut war und wie manches war, was dazwischen lag - nun, Sie wissen ja, darüber schweigt vielleicht besser des Sängers Höflichkeit. Aber es rollte also Ausgezeichnetes, Großartiges, neben, ich will sagen, anderem, ab. Und trotz alledem verging Sonntag, Montag, Dienstag, und man war am Dienstagabend so weit, daß man sagen konnte: Wenn das morgen — und morgen war der letzte Tag - so fortgeht, dann gehen die Delegierten wieder auseinander, wie sie zusammengetreten sind. Denn es war eigentlich nichts von dem zum Vorschein gekommen - natürlich vieles Anthroposophische, denn es war Ausgezeichnetes gesprochen worden -, was im Saale in den Menschen lebte, in den zahlreichen Menschen, die anwesend waren. Es waren doch alles Menschen, aber - nicht daß die Reden nicht von Wirklichem gehandelt hätten, die haben alle von Wirklichem gehandelt -, aber es lebte nicht Realität in der Verhandlung, es lebte nicht Wirklichkeit, es lebte Abstraktion. Also es war ein Schulbeispiel von einem abstrakten Leben. Und es war ein wirkliches Chaos am Dienstagabend. Man redete ganz aneinander vorbei.
Nun konnte ich da nicht anders als mich entschließen, im Anschlusse an den Vortrag, den ich am Dienstag zu halten hatte, selbst eine Art von Vorschlag zu machen aus dem, was da im Saale war - und es saß ja in gewissem Sinne die ganze deutsche und österreichische Anthroposophische Gesellschaft da -, aber nun mußte man aus dem, was da als Wirklichkeit saß, etwas herausbekommen, was die Kräfte zusammenfaßte. Ich hatte gerade am Dienstag über das Gemeinschaftsleben zu sprechen, denn das hatte sich als eine Notwendigkeit ergeben aus vielem, was gesagt worden war. Ich machte dann einen Vorschlag, ich sagte: Man sehe ja, daß man hier aneinander vorbeiredet, daß dasjenige, was man redet, nicht dazu führt, daß nun die Wirklichkeit wirklich herauskommt an die Oberfläche. Wenn man von allem übrigen absieht, so hat man hier zwei Typen von Empfindungsweisen, Anschauungsweisen, Meinungen. Der eine ist die alte Anthroposophische Gesellschaft mit dem Komitee, das sich herausgebildet hat; der andere besteht aus Leuten, die im Grunde genommen alle gar kein Interesse an dem haben, was vertreten wird innerhalb des Verhältnisses zwischen diesem Komitee und der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft, so will ich es genauer ausdrücken: lauter Leuten, die nicht das geringste Interesse an dem hatten, was das Komitee zum Beispiel zu sagen hatte, die aber ausgezeichnete Anthroposophen waren. Man kann sich eigentlich nichts Schöneres denken als das, was gerade bei dieser Stuttgarter Verhandlung aus der Jugend herausgekommen ist: Ein wunderbar, energisch Schönes. Großartig lebte sich die Seele der Jugend dar, mit einem stürmischen Drang, in das anthroposophische Leben hineinzukommen aber auch nichts von Interesse für das, was sich nun da in der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft als Gesellschaft zeigte, was sich da geltend machte.
An solch eine Erscheinung muß man glauben. Man muß sehen lernen eine solche Erscheinung. Man muß nicht blind sein. Man muß sich nicht die Augen verbinden vor dem, was real ist. Und so konnte ich nichts anderes sagen als: Da diese zwei Typen von Menschen hier vereint sind, ist ja jedes Reden über Verständigung, im abstrakten Sinne, unwahr. Die alte Anthroposophische Gesellschaft kann nicht anders sein, als sie ist; die andern können auch nicht anders sein, als sie sind. Daher wird die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft als Ganzes am besten weiterbestehen, wenn jeder seinen Weg geht: auf der einen Seite die alte Aristokratie — nein, also die Mitglieder der älteren Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft mit der Historie auf den Schultern und Rücken; auf der andern Seite die anstürmenden alten und jungen Leute. Nun gibt es einen alten Entwurf einer Verfassung der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft. Was da drinnen steht, kann man beiden Parteien empfehlen! Jede kann wörtlich das ausführen, was da drinnen steht, aber jede wird etwas ganz anderes dabei herausbekommen. So ist es eben im Leben. In der Theorie ist es anders, aber so ist es im Leben.
Und so schlug ich vor: Die alte Anthroposophische Gesellschaft bleibt mit ihrem Neunerkomitee. Das charakterisierte ich so, daß ich sagte: Es sind darinnen die prominenten Persönlichkeiten von Stuttgart, die ausgezeichnet ihre einzelnen Unternehmungen leiten, furchtbar viel Arbeit leisten, eigentlich sogar in den Verhandlungen am Sonntag, Montag, Dienstag, Mittwoch als wesentliches Charakteristikon zeigten, daß sie von den vorhergehenden Anstrengungen müde Leute waren. Ich sagte: Wenn ich nach Stuttgart komme und irgend etwas soll gemacht werden - so war es, sagte ich, in den letzten Jahren -, brauche ich nur auf einen Knopf zu drücken. Ein feines Verständnis haben diese führenden Persönlichkeiten in Stuttgart, sie verstehen gleich alles, man braucht nicht viel zu reden. Würde man über alles furchtbar viel reden müssen, man könnte ja nicht die Zeit aufbringen; aber sie verstehen gleich alles. Es ist ihnen absolut alles klar, man braucht nur etwas anzuschlagen. Aber sie tun es meistens nicht. Dann sind die andern, das ist die andere Partei: voller anthroposophischer Seelenhaftigkeit, ganz bei der Anthroposophie dabei. Ich kann auch zu den führenden Persönlichkeiten dieser Partei sprechen: Sie verstehen zunächst nichts von dem, was ich sage, aber sie tun gleich alles.
Ja, da ist ein großer Unterschied, da ist ein gewaltiger Unterschied: die einen verstehen furchtbar leicht und tun nichts; die andern verstehen zunächst nichts, versprechen nur, alles zu verstehen, haben innere Kraft, Gefühl, Empfindung; aber sie tun gleich alles. Es wird alles getan, was nicht verstanden ist. Ja, da muß man zwei besonders geartete Zweige der Gesellschaft machen, wenn diese Gesellschaft eine Einheit bleiben soll; da darf die eine Partei die andere niemals beirren. Da ist die Partei, wie soll ich es nennen, nun, Ausdrücke muß man haben, Sie wissen, es handelt sich um nichts anderes als um eine Terminologie: die Partei der Gebundenheit, der Tradition, der festumrissenen — es muß ja nicht immer ein physischer Zettelkatalog sein - Glieder der Kartothek, auf den kurulischen Stühlen. Man ist da etwas: Präsident, Vizepräsident und so weiter, und man verwaltet die Gesellschaft. Man sitzt da und man geht so mit Systematik vor. Dort drüben sieht mich eben ein Herr an, der mich unterrichten konnte in den letzten Tagen, bevor ich abgereist bin, wozu manchmal solche Systematik führt. Da wurde herausgeschickt zum Beispiel eine Gutschrift für 21 Mark, glaube ich; der Brief mußte rekommandiert werden mit 150 Mark! Das ist alles ganz in der Ordnung, wenn man heute ins Ausland einen Brief schickt, kostet er 150 Mark. Wenn man also jemand schreiben will: Wir haben dir in die richtige Rubrik unseres Kassabuches diese 21 Mark eingeschrieben -, so gibt man dafür 150 Mark aus, um die Sache richtig hineinzufügen. So geht es eben heute, wenn sich die Sachen nach A, B, C gliedern. Also da ist die Partei der Gebundenheit, die alte Anthroposophische Gesellschaft. Man kann in ihr ein gutes Mitglied sein. Dann ist die freie Vereinigung von Leuten, die auf all das nichts geben, die ganz nur aus dem Menschlichen heraus eine lose Vereinigung haben wollen. Diese zwei Strömungen, die sollen jetzt da sein.
Ich habe das zunächst rein fadengezeichnet, also angedeutet. Es ist gleich eine Rede geredet worden am selben Abend, daß es ja das Furchtbarste sei, wenn dies nun geschehen müßte, denn die Gesellschaft würde in zwei Teile gespalten werden und so weiter. Aber so war eben die Wirklichkeit! Wenn man irgend etwas tun wollte, nicht nach dem, was sich die Leute dachten — denn das, was der Mensch denkt, ist ja in der Regel nicht so bedeutend als das, was er ist -, sondern nach dem, was da war, dann mußte man das eben so machen. Das war der Ausdruck für das Wirkliche, was da war. Wie gesagt, es wurde gleich eine Rede darüber gehalten, was für eine schreckliche Konsequenz es wäre, wenn das notwendig würde und so fort.
Auch äußerlich, räumlich-physisch hatte sich ein Chaos ergeben, überall gab es Gruppen, man kam nirgends durch, überall wurde man aufgehalten, überall sollte gesagt werden, wie das oder jenes gemeint war. Es war das innere Chaos nun auch ein äußeres Chaos an jenem Dienstag, als man nach elf Uhr das Versammlungslokal verlassen wollte. Ich kam dann nach Hause, man war wirklich etwas müde. Da, um zwölf Uhr holte man mich. Ich war noch nicht ganz zum Antritt des Schlafens bereit, noch nicht ganz, aber man holte mich: Unten in der Landhausstraße wäre eine Versammlung. Ich wurde noch auf dem Wege von der zweiten Etage nach der ersten Etage aufgehalten in einer Zwischenversammlung, dann kam ich so ungefähr um dreiviertel ein Uhr in der Nacht in diese Versammlung. Da ergab sich aber sofort: die Sache war doch verstanden, war ganz richtig verstanden worden. Man konnte sich über die Details wirklich sehr gut unterhalten; es war klar geworden, daß da etwas werden könnte, wenn man es in dieser Weise machte.
Da waren Zweifel geäußert worden - es ist ja natürlich, daß sich solche Zweifel äußerten -, da ist zum Beispiel gesagt worden: Ja, aber es gibt doch Persönlichkeiten, die sympathisieren mit der Jugend, die möchten alles dasjenige, was zum Beispiel die Jugend will, aber auf der andern Seite sind sie doch historisch in die alte Gesellschaft hineingestellt. Sie haben sogar ihre Posten in der alten gebundenen Gesellschaft, da wollen sie doch weiter arbeiten.
Ich sagte: Das löst sich sehr leicht. Da braucht man nur dafür zu sorgen, wenn sie in beide Zweige eintreten, daß sie nur einmal den Mitgliedsbeitrag bezahlen. Es ist nur ein technischer Modus zu finden. Es kann sich ja gar nicht handeln darum, daß man deswegen, weil man in dem einen ist, bei dem andern ausgeschlossen ist. Es muß nur die Möglichkeit vorhanden sein, daß die Realitäten zum Vorschein kommen. — Ich sagte, auch in den Institutionen ist durchaus die Möglichkeit vorhanden, daß beiden Richtungen Rechnung getragen wird. Ich kann mir zum Beispiel die Möglichkeit vorstellen: Da ist ein Waldorflehrer, der neigt zu der losen Vereinigung, dann ist er dort; der andere [Waldorflehrer] neigt zu der Gruppe der Gebundenen, der tritt also dort ein. In der Waldorfschule wirken sie selbstverständlich harmonisch zusammen.
Gestern trat noch der Zweifel auf, wie es nun in dem oder jenem Zweige ist. Ich sagte: Warum sollen nicht im Zweige auch nebeneinander sitzen die Gebundenen und Nichtgebundenen? Aber da muß die Möglichkeit sein des Auslebens der inneren Realität, die überall vorhanden ist. Wenn etwas aus der Realität heraus gedacht ist, so läßt es sich ja überall durchführen, und es wird dadurch erst die Einheit gebildet. Es hat sogar nur bis ein Viertel nach zwei Uhr gedauert am Morgen, da war es nun der Jugend wesentlich klar geworden - aber es waren weißhaarige Jünglinge auch da, die schon eine ganze Anzahl von Dezennien hinter sich hatten —, da war es dann dieser Jugend in der Nacht von Dienstag auf Mittwoch klar geworden: die Sache geht.
Nun wurde der Mittwoch gewidmet der Auseinandersetzung über diese Intentionen. Und so hat sich dann am Mittwoch abend - ich will das jetzt resümieren, will dann noch einiges ergänzen zu dem, was ich als Bericht gebe — herausgebildet eine Realisierung dieser Idee. Da ist nun die alte Anthroposophische Gesellschaft mit dem Neunerkomitee, das ich Ihnen ja schon neulich angeführt habe, und da ist die andere, die losere, die freiere Anthroposophische Gesellschaft, die vorzugsweise darauf hinstrebt, Anthroposophie vor die Welt zu tragen, die danach strebt, das innerlich menschliche Leben zu vertiefen. Ich werde Ihnen morgen und übermorgen die wesentlichsten Inhalte meiner beiden Vorträge, die ich in Stuttgart gehalten habe, wiedergeben; die hängen innig zusammen mit dem Leben in der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft; denn der erste Vortrag handelte über die Bedingungen der Gemeinschaftsbildung, und der zweite Vortrag handelte über die Gründe, warum in Gesellschaften, die für die Brüderlichkeit begründet werden, so viel gestritten wird.
Für diese freiere Vereinigung hat sich dann zunächst ein Komitee gebildet — nicht wahr, da bedeutet der Name natürlich die Freiheit — aus Herrn Lehrs, Fräulein Dr. Röschl, Herrn Maikowski, Dr. Büchenbacher, Herrn Rath, Herrn von Grone, dem Rektor Bartsch aus Breslau und Herrn Schröder. Sie sehen, es sind nicht alle ganz jung, es sind ganz würdige Leute mit Patriarchenbärten dabei. Also es ist nicht etwa bloß jugendlicher Radikalismus da vertreten, aber er wird voll zur Geltung kommen können.
Ja, und so wäre nun die Sache! Es handelt sich nur darum, daß sie in der richtigen Weise gehandhabt wird. Diese losere Vereinigung hat sich dann namentlich auch die Aufgabe gesetzt, engere Gemeinschaften zu bilden, gewissermaßen für die Arbeit der Anthroposophie im Großen exoterisch zu arbeiten und esoterisch zu arbeiten im kleinen für Gemeinschaften, die weniger durch eine schematische Organisation als durch eine Art inneren Karmas zusammengehalten werden. Also wie gesagt, das waren die beiden Gruppen. Ich werde morgen und übermorgen noch davon sprechen. Das also ist doch notwendig geworden! Das Lebendige läßt sich nicht in der alten Form, in der alten Schablone erhalten. Man muß mit den Einrichtungen durchaus einem Lebendigen nachkommen.
Sie wissen, ich habe, als ich von hier nach Stuttgart fortgegangen bin, gesagt: Eigentlich ist das ganze Problem der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft ein Schneiderproblem. Die Anthroposophie ist eben gewachsen, und der Anzug, die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft - denn sie ist allmählich zum Anzug geworden - ist zu klein geworden: da geht der Rock nicht einmal bis zu den Ellenbogen und die Beinkleider nicht bis zu den Knien. Nun, ich will das nicht weiter ausführen; die Sache schaute eben grotesk aus, und das wurde bemerkt von denjenigen, die in der letzteren Zeit mit vollem Herzen hereinkamen.
Nun wird es sich darum handeln, ob dieser Versuch, nicht das alte Kleid auseinanderzuziehen, denn da würde es ja reißen, sondern ein neues Kleid, aber mit etwas größerer Zweckmäßigkeit zu machen, ob das eben gelingt. Innerlich hat es durchaus die Fähigkeit zu gelingen. Es wird sich darum handeln, ob die Menschen die Kräfte finden werden, in dieser Weise nun zu arbeiten. Geradeso wie im Leben alles anders möglich ist als in der Theorie, so ist es eben auch hier so: Es handelt sich wirklich darum, daß etwas Lebensfähiges geschaffen wird. Da haben Sie den Herrn von Grong; er ist Mitglied sowohl des einen Komitees der gebundenen Leute wie auch des freien Komitees der freien Leute, er ist in beiden Komitees drinnen. Und so wird es am besten gehen, wenn man jeden in seiner Art sein läßt, entweder einen Patriarchen oder einen jugendlich begeisterten Menschen, und wenn einer alles beides zugleich sein will, warum soll einer nicht auch ein Geschöpf mit zwei Köpfen sein können? Es ist also durchaus notwendig, daß wirklich sich die Kräfte in freier Weise entfalten. Manches geht ja natürlich nicht. Es wurde mir zum Beispiel erzählt, daß in einem der Zweige der Vorsitzende einmal die Überraschung erlebt hat, daß das Wort begehrt worden ist, und während der eine nun eine flammende Rede gehalten hat, hat ein anderer immer dazwischengeredet. Da sagte der Vorsitzende: Ja aber, liebe Freunde, das geht doch nicht! - Warum soll das nicht gehen? — war die Antwort. Wir wollen doch nach der Freiheitsphilosophie leben, da kann man sich doch nicht die Freiheit einschränken lassen, daß immer nur einer redet! Warum sollen da nicht mehrere zu gleicher Zeit reden? — Nun, nicht wahr, manche Sachen gehen eben nicht, aber manche Sachen werden auch nicht immer gerade verlangt.
Ich meinerseits bin nun vollständig überzeugt, daß es nun wiederum eine Weile gehen wird. Nicht immer; man kann nichts für die Ewigkeit begründen. Wir werden schon in einiger Zeit vor die Notwendigkeit gestellt werden, wiederum das, was anthroposophischer Organismus ist, mit neuen Kleidern zu versehen. Aber dieses Schicksal hat man ja als Mensch auch: man kann nicht immer dieselben Kleider anhaben. Und jede Organisation ist ja schließlich doch für das, was lebt, ein Kleid. Warum sollte man just in einem sozial organischen Gebilde für die Ewigkeit arbeiten wollen! Was leben will, muß sich wandeln, und eigentlich ist nur, was sich wandelt, lebensvoll. Daher müssen wir gerade für das, was im eminentesten Sinne lebensvoll sein soll, für die anthroposophische Bewegung eine Organisation haben, die eben auch lebt. Natürlich können wir uns nicht jeden Tag mit einer Reorganisation befassen, aber alle paar Jahre wird es schon notwendig sein! Sonst werden die Stühle, auf denen die führenden Persönlichkeiten sitzen, eben gerade dadurch zu kurulischen. Wenn auf der einen Seite die besondere Spezialität eintritt des Ruhens auf den kurulischen Stühlen, dann juckt es die andern, die nicht darauf sitzen. Und so müssen wir schon die Möglichkeit finden, daß es auch die auf den kurulischen Stühlen juckt! Also wir müssen eben anfangen, die Stühle ein bißchen zu schütteln. Aber wenn man die richtigen Einrichtungen trifft, so kann das alles auf die beste Art von der Welt gehen.
Meine lieben Freunde, ich wollte Ihnen einen Bericht geben. Es ist mir gar nicht spaßhaft gewesen, aber manches nimmt sich eben so aus, daß man nur mit Worten, die ein bißchen humoristisch klingen, gerade das Reale schildern kann.
Eighth Lecture
The Stuttgart meeting concluded the evening before last, and you will probably think that I should now tell you something about what happened there. The fact is that a certain outcome has already emerged, an outcome that cannot be otherwise in view of the actual circumstances. In order to fully understand what has happened, it will be necessary to give a brief outline of how things developed. You know from the hints I have given over the past few weeks that the Stuttgart meeting was preceded by weeks of preparation. These preparations, which were actually quite exhausting for everyone involved, amounted to giving the Anthroposophical Society a future for the near future by bringing its conditions into being.In all these matters, it must be taken into account that what happened in Stuttgart was completely unaffected, at least in its starting points and origins, by the sad events of the Goetheanum fire. For I had already discussed with a member of the Executive Council at the beginning of December that something had to be done to consolidate the Society, with the request that the entire Central Executive Council, together with other personalities, should deal with the matter. So what happened in Stuttgart is a direct continuation of what I had said to Mr. Uehli on December 10 as a result of my observations of the current situation in the Anthroposophical Society.
The fire at the Goetheanum was a painful event that coincided with these developments. But even if the Goetheanum were still standing here today as it was before, all these things would have had to happen in exactly the same way. For what was the situation? What was at stake was that the Anthroposophical Society, as it had gradually developed over two decades, had taken on a certain form and structure, a form and structure that had been modified in particular since 1919 by the various undertakings that had been incorporated into it.
It might easily seem as if, when one says something like this: the various undertakings that have been incorporated into the Anthroposophical Society – one is passing a disparaging judgment on these undertakings. But that is not the case at all. I need only mention the Waldorf School, which is one of these enterprises, and it will be clear to you that this is something quite different from expressing any kind of superficial judgment. Nothing is to be said against the value and significance of these enterprises, not even in relation to the most important ones, nothing against the management or leadership of these enterprises.
What has been discussed and should be discussed was solely the Anthroposophical Society, its structure, its entire configuration as such. Now, it is difficult to describe this structure of the Anthroposophical Society, which is widely ramified, in a realistic way, but I think that each of you knows from a certain point of view what the Anthroposophical Society has become to this day, and you can also describe many things for yourselves based on what I have said here over the last few weeks; and you can then supplement this description.
Now, one of the particularly important events that has taken place in the life of this Anthroposophical Society is that the leading personalities, or at least a large number of the leading personalities, have taken on very specific, namely anthroposophical, tasks for the Anthroposophical Society from what has developed out of it. These anthroposophical tasks have been awaiting their solution since 1919. They had not been solved, and therefore, on December 10 of last year, when things had, I might say, become very clear, it was necessary to speak to the Central Executive Council in Stuttgart in the manner I have just done.
One of the latest developments to emerge from the anthroposophical movement is the movement for religious renewal, which has contributed significantly to the crisis in the Anthroposophical Society in recent times. That is one side of the facts that have arisen in the life of the Anthroposophical Society.
The other side is that young people have come forward, young people with a deep enthusiasm for anthroposophy, for everything that anthroposophy contains, especially academic youth, with very specific expectations, with very specific ideas of what can be found in the Anthroposophical Society, with certain feelings that could be characterized as follows: With strong inner impulses of the heart, young people approached the Anthroposophical Society and were particularly sensitive to everything that came their way from the ranks of anthroposophists, taking everything in with a sharp, though not intellectual, emotional judgment. What was the basis for this?
Yes, my dear friends, the youth of today have inner soul experiences that, in a certain sense, are entering human development for the first time. It is not enough to speak abstractly and superficially about the contrast between the older and younger generations. This contrast has always existed in a certain sense, and it was particularly evident among those who, as strong individuals in their youth, wanted to prepare themselves for life in various educational institutions. One need only recall some typical examples. Read in Goethe's “Poetry and Truth” how, instead of going to college in Leipzig because he found it terribly boring, he went to the pretzel baker's across the street and talked with his friends while Professor Ludwig and others were imparting their clever teachings in the lecture halls. But despite this contrast, which was always present, even these somewhat radical members of the youth movement always ran into what had been inherited from the older generation. Even the brilliant people fell into line. Goethe certainly remained an immeasurable genius until his death; but when it came to immersing himself in everyday life, he became not only the genius Goethe, but also the fat privy councilor with the double chin. That is also true.
Well, you just have to look at these things with an open mind. Until the last third of the 19th century, the contrast between old and young, which is still talked about superficially today, already existed, but it was balanced out in the sense of philistinism, in that young people became more and more philistine towards what had been inherited from the old, they ran into this inheritance. But that is no longer possible today.
If one wanted to speak in terms of terminology taken from Eastern wisdom, one would have to say: this is no longer possible after the end of the Kali Yuga, because the principle of authority no longer permeates social life in the same way as it did in the past. It is becoming increasingly apparent that humanity has entered the age of consciousness soul development. And this lives on in a way that is not clearly defined, but instinctively extremely strong in those people who were born in the 1890s or perhaps also at the beginning of the 20th century, or later, and who have an inner life that should really be viewed lovingly by their elders if it is to be understood. And that cannot be so easy, because our culture and civilization have taken on such forms, especially in our educational institutions, that the balance between old and young that always existed in the past is no longer there. Young people today feel this; it is their inner destiny. This is something that, I would say, shapes the course of their entire lives and creates a certain kind of longing for life. This means that young people today are seekers, but seekers in a completely different way than older people were seekers.
This is true in all areas of life, especially in all areas of intellectual life. The culture of old age has long since reacted to youth in a remarkable way. I have not failed to give characteristic examples of this here as well. I remind you of the lecture I gave on Gregor Mendel. In the 20th century, the opinion arose quite sporadically and with a certain vehemence among natural scientists that Gregor Mendel from Moravia, the lonely schoolteacher, high school teacher, and later abbot, was a genius who had achieved something magnificent in establishing the laws of heredity. However, when we consider Gregor Mendel's relationship with the educational institutions he attended, we must not forget that when he reached the required age and was supposed to take his teaching exam, he failed miserably. He was then given a period of time after which he could retake the teaching exam. He failed again. Now, in the 1850s, people were even more tolerant than they were later: despite failing the teaching exam twice, he was hired as a high school teacher. And he then became the person who developed what is considered one of the greatest achievements in the field of natural science today.
Or take something very obvious: Röntgen – no one today would doubt that Röntgen is one of the greatest minds of our time. He was expelled from high school one day because he couldn't get through it at all. It was also only with great difficulty that he got the lectureship at all, because, well, it didn't work out at the educational institutions, because, as I said, he had already been expelled from high school and was later provisionally placed at a college where it then worked out. But there, too, he was unable to obtain the lectureship in the subject in which he was supposed to obtain it. Now, however, he became the architect of one of the most epoch-making achievements in the field of practical and theoretical natural science. Yes, one could multiply these examples ad infinitum. Everywhere we see this flash of lightning, this unbridgeable contradiction between the legacy of older times and that which simply lives in an indefinable way in youth.
Now, to put it somewhat radically, one could say that this youth is certainly quite indifferent to how many royal tombs are still being opened in Egypt; that is not so important to them. But what is important to this youth is to find something that serves to stimulate humanity from much more original sources than the opening of ancient royal tombs. Young people feel that we are now at a point in human development where we must draw on much more elementary, more original sources for humanity.
Now, it can certainly be said that young people sought many things with this desire during the first two decades of the 20th century. These young people became acquainted with anthroposophy and felt that it touched on something fundamental, something that touched the deepest sources of humanity. And then these young people approached the Anthroposophical Society. One of the representatives of these young people said on Monday or Tuesday in Stuttgart: And now they were shocked, because when they approached it, they were truly horrified by how the Anthroposophical Society is towards anthroposophy. — Yes, isn't it true, it is one of the most important facts; it cannot be decreed away. You only have to consider what these young people, especially the academic youth, had to go through in the end.
So, in one of the most intellectually free branches of teaching and learning, for example in literary history, these young people wanted to go through this course of education and then do their doctorate. What was it like in the last third of the 19th century? How did most people come to write a dissertation, a doctoral thesis? The professor—of course, one has to summarize things and describe them in radical terms—had set himself the task of writing a book about the Romantic schools. Now he had his students to choose from: he gave one a task about Novalis, another a task about Friedrich Schlegel, another about August Wilhelm Schlegel, and the third about Ernst Theodor Amadeus Hoffmann—if all went well. If things didn't go well, the candidate in question was given a dissertation on punctuation or on the use of parentheses in Ernst Theodor Amadeus Hoffmann's sentence structure. The professor then had to work through all of this, and the result was the content of his book on the Romantic school. Everything was, I would say, drawn into the mechanical. The young person had become a link in a mechanism, in an intellectual mechanism. What revolted against this was what, if I may use the expression again, lived as something quite elementary in the youthful soul after the end of the Kali Yuga. Of course, countless other phenomena could be cited.
Now, these two things stood side by side: the Anthroposophical Society as it had become over two decades — as I said, I don't need to describe it, everyone can describe it from their own perspective — and, on the other hand, the academic youth. But basically, in contrast to the Anthroposophical Society, this academic youth was only the sharpest, most radical representative of what was otherwise also present. This became very apparent at the Stuttgart meeting.
On the one hand, you had the leading figures of the old Anthroposophical Society everywhere, committed, I would say, to what had developed there in fixed forms. One was a Waldorf teacher, the other was the office manager at “Kommender Tag.” Yes, these people had – and this is to be taken very seriously – an enormous amount to do. I would say that everything that was free in the Anthroposophical Society had flowed into these foundations. Now, whether rightly or wrongly, this also led to a certain, let's say, bureaucracy and schematism in the Anthroposophical Society. One of these foundations was the “Association for the Threefold Social Order.” From the moment it was founded in 1919, it had a leader, and after working with this association for some time, I was forced to say: This cannot go on, I will no longer participate. And, as I expressed it in Stuttgart these days, I had to elbow my way in and simply say one day: This is not working, I'm not participating anymore.Now another leader came, an excellent person. I didn't come to Stuttgart for several weeks at that time, then came back, so I had to find out what had happened. They wanted to make arrangements for the future. A meeting was held, and I was informed about what had happened. I was told: Yes, we are now ready to set up a card index. We have smaller slips of paper on which we write the smaller newspaper clippings, with the content roughly in the bottom right-hand corner, and these are then placed in racks. Then there are larger slips of paper, made of slightly thicker paper, on which the larger journal articles are written. Then there are slips of paper of a different format, on which the letters received are placed. And so it went on. For many hours, the creation of the card index was described and described, how for many weeks people had worked with tremendous self-sacrifice and dedication to create this card index, and what was in it, how everything was in absolute order. Now I had a mental image of this card index in front of me, with slips of paper in all possible formats, everything wonderfully recorded, what had happened in the Anthroposophical Society, what had happened on the part of its opponents. Everything was wonderfully recorded! The piles of slips of paper lying on top of each other must have been enormous. And the people who were sitting there disappeared completely, like ghosts; they were no longer there, only a card index remained. Everything was recorded.
I said: Yes, my dear friends, do you also have heads for this card index? I am not interested in the whole card index, but only in what is inside your heads. - No, I don't want to criticize that at all, I just want to tell you about it, because those who had done it sighed under their enormous workload. But on the other hand, just think about it: when enthusiastic young people with the most comprehensive ideals for the future came in and were told about a card index! I'm not saying that the card index is unnecessary, nor am I saying that it was bad. I'm saying that it was excellent and also extremely necessary, but it just doesn't work that way. It needed hearts that met hearts halfway.
This resulted in all kinds of impossibilities. These impossibilities and many other things ultimately led to the realization that the Anthroposophical Society needed to be reorganized. It needed to enable human individuals to work within it in their own unique way, with the opportunity to express themselves fully, and to find an atmosphere in which they could breathe and continue their education. So these were very fundamental problems facing the Anthroposophical Society. A revision of all its living conditions was necessary. And the fact that it has such living conditions in a very eminent sense is simply evident from the fact that young people came along with their inner life bursting forth. But the contradictions became ever greater.
Now, of course, there were also people among the older members who had never cared about the card indexes – the card index is only representative of an entire system here – who may have been very old, but who did not want to concern themselves with what had once become a necessity. There were certainly members who had perhaps joined as early as 1902 or 1903, but who, even though they may have differed in many ways from the younger generation, had not come any closer to what I would call the history of the Anthroposophical Society.
It was really something extraordinarily difficult that first struck one's soul in the preparatory negotiations. It could burden one with immeasurably great worries. Well, first of all, we don't need to talk about the negotiations. The meeting of delegates that had been called for — this call was the result of the negotiations — took place last Sunday in Stuttgart. The first issue was that the provisional leadership committee, which had been formed from the old Central Executive Committee for various reasons, i.e., the committee of nine, was to discuss the past, present, and future of the Anthroposophical Society on its own initiative, and that the entire Society within Germany and Austria was then to have its say through its delegates. So that's how things unfolded. Since I only want to give you a brief outline of what ultimately led to the result, I won't mention that there was a veritable “hailstorm” of motions on points of order. No sooner had one procedural motion been dealt with and people had begun to speak objectively again than two or three more procedural motions were quickly thrown onto the president's table. It was raining motions; it was impossible to finish discussing them all. But I don't want to talk about that. I want to point out that some truly excellent things were said, some truly powerful, deeply anthroposophical things were said. Albert Steffen spoke wonderful, heartfelt, profound words. Werbeck brilliantly described the categories of opponents and their relationship to the anthroposophical movement and to civilization as a whole. Dr. Büchenbacher vividly described how someone who joined the society in 1917 or 1918 or 1919 or 1920 or 1923 felt after what they encountered there. That not everything was good and how some things were in between – well, you know, it is perhaps better for the singer's politeness to remain silent about that. But so something excellent, something magnificent, unfolded alongside, shall we say, other things. And despite all that, Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday passed, and by Tuesday evening we had reached the point where we could say: If tomorrow — and tomorrow was the last day — continues like this, then the delegates will go their separate ways again, just as they came together. For nothing had actually come to light — of course, much that was anthroposophical, because excellent things had been said — that lived in the people in the hall, in the numerous people who were present. They were all human beings, but — not that the speeches did not deal with reality, they all dealt with reality — but there was no reality in the proceedings, there was no reality, there was abstraction. So it was a textbook example of an abstract life. And it was real chaos on Tuesday evening. People were talking completely at cross-purposes.
Now I could not help but decide, following the lecture I had to give on Tuesday, to make a kind of proposal myself based on what was there in the hall – and in a certain sense the entire German and Austrian Anthroposophical Society was sitting there – but now we had to get something out of what was sitting there as reality, something that would bring the forces together. I was supposed to talk about community life on Tuesday, because that had emerged as a necessity from much of what had been said. I then made a suggestion, I said: It is clear that we are talking at cross-purposes here, that what we are saying is not leading to reality really coming to the surface. If we disregard everything else, we have two types of sensibilities, ways of seeing things, opinions. One is the old Anthroposophical Society with the committee that has been formed; the other consists of people who, basically, have no interest whatsoever in what is represented within the relationship between this committee and the Anthroposophical Society. To put it more precisely: people who had not the slightest interest in what the committee had to say, for example, but who were excellent anthroposophists. One can hardly imagine anything more beautiful than what emerged from the young people at this meeting in Stuttgart: something wonderfully, energetically beautiful. The soul of youth manifested itself magnificently, with a stormy urge to enter into anthroposophical life, but also with no interest in what was now presenting itself in the Anthroposophical Society as a society, what was asserting itself there.
One must believe in such a phenomenon. One must learn to see such a phenomenon. One must not be blind. One must not blindfold oneself to what is real. And so I could say nothing else but: since these two types of people are united here, any talk of understanding, in the abstract sense, is untrue. The old Anthroposophical Society cannot be other than it is; the others cannot be other than they are either. Therefore, the Anthroposophical Society as a whole will continue to exist best if everyone goes their own way: on the one hand, the old aristocracy — no, that is, the members of the older Anthroposophical Society with history on their shoulders and backs; on the other hand, the storming old and young people. Now there is an old draft of a constitution for the Anthroposophical Society. What is written in it can be recommended to both parties! Each can carry out literally what is written in it, but each will come up with something completely different. That's how it is in life. In theory it is different, but that's how it is in life.
And so I proposed: The old Anthroposophical Society remains with its committee of nine. I characterized this by saying: It includes the prominent personalities from Stuttgart, who do an excellent job of leading their individual enterprises, do a tremendous amount of work, and in fact, in the negotiations on Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, showed as an essential characteristic that they were tired people from their previous efforts. I said: When I come to Stuttgart and something needs to be done – as has been the case in recent years, I said – I only need to press a button. These leading figures in Stuttgart have a fine understanding; they understand everything immediately, without much discussion. If one had to talk about everything at length, one would not have the time; but they understand everything immediately. Everything is absolutely clear to them; you only need to mention something. But they usually don't do it. Then there are the others, the other party: full of anthroposophical soulfulness, completely committed to anthroposophy. I can also speak to the leading figures of this party: at first they don't understand anything I say, but they do everything right away.
Yes, there is a big difference, there is a huge difference: some understand very easily and do nothing; others don't understand anything at first, only promise to understand everything, have inner strength, feeling, sensitivity; but they do everything right away. Everything that is not understood is done. Yes, two distinct branches of society must be created if this society is to remain a unity; one party must never mislead the other. There is the party, how shall I call it, well, one must have expressions, you know, it is nothing more than terminology: the party of bondage, of tradition, of clearly defined — it does not always have to be a physical card index — members of the card index, on the kurul chairs. One is something there: president, vice president, and so on, and one manages the society. One sits there and proceeds systematically. Over there, a gentleman is looking at me who was able to teach me in the last few days before I left what such a systematic approach sometimes leads to. For example, a credit note for 21 marks, I believe, was sent out; the letter had to be sent by registered mail at a cost of 150 marks! That's all quite normal; if you send a letter abroad today, it costs 150 marks. So if you want to write to someone: We have entered these 21 marks in the correct section of our cash book — you spend 150 marks to enter it correctly. That's how it is today when things are organized according to A, B, C. So there is the party of bondage, the old Anthroposophical Society. You can be a good member of it. Then there is the free association of people who don't care about any of that, who want to have a loose association based entirely on humanity. These two currents should now be there.
I initially sketched this out in broad strokes, just as an indication. That same evening, someone gave a speech saying that it would be terrible if this had to happen, because the society would be split into two parts, and so on. But that was the reality! If you wanted to do anything, not according to what people thought — because what people think is usually not as important as what they are — but according to what was there, then you had to do it that way. That was the expression of the reality that was there. As I said, a speech was immediately given about what a terrible consequence it would be if that became necessary, and so on.
Outwardly, spatially and physically, chaos had also ensued. There were groups everywhere, you couldn't get through anywhere, you were stopped everywhere, everywhere you had to explain what this or that meant. The inner chaos was now also an outer chaos on that Tuesday when people wanted to leave the meeting place after eleven o'clock. I then came home, everyone was really a little tired. At twelve o'clock, they came to get me. I wasn't quite ready to go to sleep yet, not quite, but they came to get me: there was going to be a meeting down on Landhausstraße. I was stopped on my way from the second floor to the first floor at an interim meeting, then I arrived at this meeting at about a quarter to one in the morning. But it immediately became clear that the matter had been understood, had been understood quite correctly. It was possible to discuss the details very well; it had become clear that something could come of it if it was done in this way.
Doubts had been expressed—it is natural that such doubts were expressed—for example, it was said: Yes, but there are personalities who sympathize with the youth, who want everything that the youth wants, for example, but on the other hand, they are historically embedded in the old society. They even have their positions in the old, bound society, and they want to continue working there."
I said: That can be solved very easily. All you have to do is make sure that if they join both branches, they only pay the membership fee once. It's just a matter of finding a technical solution. It can't be the case that because you are in one, you are excluded from the other. There just has to be the possibility for the realities to come to light. — I said that even in institutions there is every possibility of both directions being taken into account. For example, I can imagine the following possibility: there is a Waldorf teacher who tends toward the loose association, so he is there; the other [Waldorf teacher] tends toward the group of the bound, so he joins there. In the Waldorf school, of course, they work together harmoniously.
Yesterday, doubts arose as to how things are in this or that branch. I said: Why shouldn't the bound and the unbound sit side by side in the branch? But there must be the possibility of living out the inner reality that is present everywhere. If something is thought out of reality, it can be carried out everywhere, and only then is unity formed. It only took until a quarter past two in the morning for it to become clear to the young people—but there were also white-haired young people there who already had quite a few decades behind them—then it became clear to these young people on the night from Tuesday to Wednesday: it will work.
Wednesday was then devoted to discussing these intentions. And so, on Wednesday evening — I will now summarize this and then add a few things to what I am reporting — a realization of this idea took shape. There is now the old Anthroposophical Society with the Committee of Nine, which I mentioned to you recently, and there is the other, looser, freer Anthroposophical Society, which primarily strives to bring anthroposophy to the world, which strives to deepen inner human life. Tomorrow and the day after tomorrow, I will recount the most essential contents of my two lectures that I gave in Stuttgart; they are closely connected with life in the Anthroposophical Society, for the first lecture dealt with the conditions for community building, and the second lecture dealt with the reasons why there is so much strife in societies that are founded on brotherhood.
A committee was then formed for this freer association — and of course the name implies freedom — consisting of Mr. Lehrs, Dr. Röschl, Mr. Maikowski, Dr. Büchenbacher, Mr. Rath, Mr. von Grone, Rector Bartsch from Breslau, and Mr. Schröder. As you can see, not all of them are very young; there are some very dignified people with patriarchal beards among them. So it is not just youthful radicalism that is represented here, but it will be able to come into its own.
Yes, and that would be the way to do it! It is just a matter of handling it in the right way. This looser association has also set itself the task of forming closer communities, working exoterically for the work of anthroposophy on a large scale, so to speak, and working esoterically on a small scale for communities that are held together less by a schematic organization than by a kind of inner karma. So, as I said, those were the two groups. I will talk about this again tomorrow and the day after tomorrow. This has become necessary! The living cannot be preserved in the old form, in the old template. The institutions must be adapted to the living.
You know, when I left here for Stuttgart, I said: Actually, the whole problem of the Anthroposophical Society is a tailor's problem. Anthroposophy has grown, and the suit, the Anthroposophical Society — for it has gradually become a suit — has become too small: the skirt doesn't even reach the elbows and the trousers don't reach the knees. Well, I don't want to go into that any further; the situation just looked grotesque, and this was noticed by those who came in wholeheartedly in recent times.
Now it will be a question of whether this attempt to make a new suit, not by tearing apart the old one, because then it would tear, but with a little more practicality, will succeed. Inwardly, it certainly has the ability to succeed. The question will be whether people will find the strength to work in this way. Just as in life everything is possible other than in theory, so it is here: it is really a matter of creating something viable. There you have Mr. von Grong; he is a member of both the committee of bound people and the free committee of free people; he is in both committees. And so it will work best if everyone is allowed to be themselves, either a patriarch or a youthfully enthusiastic person, and if someone wants to be both at the same time, why shouldn't they be able to be a creature with two heads? It is therefore absolutely necessary that forces are allowed to develop freely. Of course, some things are not possible. For example, I was told that in one of the branches, the chairman was once surprised to find that the floor had been requested, and while one person was giving a fiery speech, another kept interrupting. The chairperson said, “But, dear friends, that's not acceptable!” “Why shouldn't it be acceptable?” was the reply. “We want to live according to the philosophy of freedom, so we can't allow our freedom to be restricted to only one person speaking at a time! Why shouldn't several people speak at the same time?” Well, some things are simply not possible, but some things are not always required either.
For my part, I am now completely convinced that it will work for a while. Not forever; nothing can be established for eternity. In time, we will be faced with the necessity of providing the anthroposophical organism with new clothes. But this is also the fate of human beings: we cannot always wear the same clothes. And every organization is, after all, a garment for what lives. Why should one want to work for eternity in a social organic structure? What wants to live must change, and in fact, only what changes is full of life. Therefore, precisely for what should be full of life in the most eminent sense, we must have an organization for the anthroposophical movement that also lives. Of course, we cannot deal with reorganization every day, but every few years it will be necessary! Otherwise, the chairs on which the leading personalities sit will become just that: curule chairs. When, on the one hand, the special privilege of resting on the curule chairs comes into play, then it makes the others who are not sitting on them itch. And so we must find a way to make those sitting on the curule chairs feel restless too! So we just have to start shaking the chairs a little. But if you make the right arrangements, it can all work out in the best possible way.
My dear friends, I wanted to give you a report. It was not at all fun for me, but some things are such that you can only describe the reality with words that sound a little humorous.