Waldorf Education and Anthroposophy I
GA 304
27 February 1921, The Hague
II. Education and Practical Life from the Perspective of Spiritual Science
In my first lecture, I drew your attention to the essence of anthroposophical spiritual science. I mentioned how methods have been sought in spiritual science that enable the spiritual investigator to penetrate a supersensible world with the same clarity as natural science penetrates the outer, sense-perceptible world with the sense organs and the intellect, which systematizes and interprets the results of sensory impressions. I described these methods in my last lecture. And I emphasized that, in addition to today’s ordinary science, another science exists. This uses spiritual methods and, by its path of research and the inner experiences unfolding along it, furnishes full proof of our being surrounded by a supersensible world, just as, in the ordinary state of consciousness, we are surrounded by the sense world. I would now like to return to a prior point, elaborated during the last lecture, that, at least to a certain extent, will form the basis of what I have to say today.
The anthroposophical science of the spirit, referred to here, is not at all opposed to what has become—over the last three or four centuries—the natural-scientific world-view. As I already pointed out, this spiritual science is opposed only to viewpoints that do not take into account the results of modern natural science and thereby become more or less dilettantish. Spiritual science wishes to be an extension or continuation of natural-scientific thinking. Only, this spiritual-scientific continuation allows a person to acquire the kind of knowledge that can answer the deepest longings in the minds and the souls of modern human beings. Thus, through spiritual science, one really comes to know human beings.
Not so long ago, modern science, in a way fully recognized by spiritual science, gave us a wonderful survey of the gradual development of living organisms right up to human beings. And yet, when all is said and done, the human being stands there only as the end product of evolution.
Biology speaks of certain muscles that are found both in human beings and in various animal species. We also know that a human being has a certain number of bones and that this number corresponds with the bones of the higher animals. Altogether, we have grown accustomed to explaining the emergence of the entire bone structure of higher animals and human beings as a development from a lower stage to a higher one. But we have no idea of the essential characteristics that are uniquely and exclusively human. Anyone willing to look at the situation without prejudice has to admit the fact that we are ignorant of what constitutes a human being. In general, natural phenomena and all living organisms are scrupulously investigated up to and including homo sapiens, and the conclusion is then drawn that human beings are encompassed by what is to be found in external nature. But, generally, there is no really adequate idea of what is essentially human.
In ordinary, practical life, we find a similar situation, very much as a result of natural-scientific thinking and knowledge. We find its effects overshadowing modern life, causing a great deal of perplexity and distress. The consequence of not knowing the essential nature of human beings becomes all too obvious in what is usually referred to as the social question. Millions of people who belong to what is called the proletariat, whom the traditional religions and confessions have abandoned, believe that reality is no longer to be found in the human soul, but only in the material aspects of life, in the processes of production within the outer economic sphere. Morality, religion, science, and art, as cultivated by humanity throughout the ages, are regarded as nothing more than a kind of ideological superstructure, built on a solid material or even economic material substructure. The moral and cultural aspects of life appear almost as a kind of vapor, rising from the only reality—material reality. Here, again, what is truly the human soul and spirit—what is psychical-spiritual in human beings—has been eliminated.
Not to be able to reach knowledge of the human being and, consequently, to be debarred from beholding and experiencing the truth of human nature, and from bringing down human ideals into will impulses in the social sphere—these seem to be the characteristic features of modern times.
Anthroposophical spiritual science, on the other hand, is only too aware of what needs to be accomplished in this direction for the sake of the deepest, yet often unconscious, longing of the souls of some of the best of our contemporaries. It is to be accomplished, first, by true knowledge of the human being and, second, by an inner sense of fulfillment strong enough to enable one to carry into public life truly social impulses arising in the soul. For, without these impulses arising from the depths of our humanity, even the best of outer practical arrangements will not lead to what in the widest circles is regarded as unrealizable, but toward which many people are striving nevertheless, namely to a dignified human existence.
The path leading into the spiritual world as I described it here a few days ago could easily be understood as something that estranges one from life rather than leading one to the two weighty questions that I have put before you once again today. For this reason, it was of paramount importance that anthroposophical spiritual science be practiced in the Goetheanum in Dornach, Switzerland. Despite the unfinished state of the building, spiritual science has the possibility of pursuing practical activities there, demonstrating how knowledge of human nature and human faculties can enter into the practical sphere of life.
One of the most important practical activities is surely education of the young.
Those who work in the field of educating children are basically dealing with what will enter the world with the next generation, and this means a very great deal. Raising and educating children are a direct way to work into the near future. In its quest for a method of understanding human nature, anthroposophical spiritual science finds itself able to understand the human being in its becoming—the child—in a wide, comprehensive manner. From such comprehensive knowledge of the growing child, spiritual science seeks to create a real art of education. For what spiritual science can provide in understanding and penetration of human nature does not end in abstractions or theories, but eventually develops into an artistic comprehension, first of the human form and then of the potential of the human soul and spirit. It is all very well to maintain that science demands what is often called a sober working with objective concepts. But, ladies and gentlemen, what if the whole world, if nature, did not work with such concepts at all? What if it were to scorn our wish to restrict its creativity to the kind of natural law into which we try to confine it? What if the creativity of the world were to elude our sober, merely external grasp and our rather lightweight logical concepts? We can certainly make our demands, but whether by doing so we will attain real knowledge depends on whether nature works and creates according to them.
At any rate, more recent scientific attitudes have failed to recognize the essence of human nature because they have failed to consider the following. In her upward climb, at each successive step of the evolutionary ladder—from the mineral kingdom, through the plant and animal kingdoms, to the human kingdom—nature’s creativity increasingly escapes our intellectual grasp and sober logic, forcing us to approach her workings more and more artistically. What ultimately lives in a human being is open to many interpretations and shows manifold aspects. And because spiritual science, in its own way, seeks the inner harmony between knowledge, religious depth, and artistic creativity, it is in a position to survey rightly—that is, spiritually—the enigmatic, admirable creation that is a human being and how it is placed in the world.
Last time, I spoke of how it is possible to look with scientific accuracy into the world where human beings live before they descend into physical existence at conception or birth. I indicated how, with mathematical clarity, the human spirit and soul, descending from the spiritual worlds, place themselves before the spiritual eyes of the anthroposophical investigator, showing themselves to be at work on the interior of the future earthly body and drawing only material substances from the stream of heredity bequeathed by previous generations.
Anyone who talks about such things today is quickly judged inconsistent. And yet the methods pursued by spiritual science are much the same as those employed by natural science. The main difference is that the work entailed in the various branches of natural science is done in the appropriate laboratories, clinics, or astronomical observatories, whereas the science of the spirit approaches human nature directly in order to observe it as methodically as a natural scientist observes whatever might belong to his or her particular field of study. In the latter case, however, the situation is more straightforward for it is easier to make one’s observations and to search for underlying laws in natural science than in spiritual science.
As a first step, I would like to draw your attention to what one can observe in a growing human being in a truly natural-scientific way. Of course, in the case of spiritual science, we must include in our observations the gradual development of the human being through several different life periods. One of those periods extends from birth to the change of the teeth; that is, until about the seventh year. To recognize a kind of nodal point around the seventh year might easily create the impression of an inclination toward mysticism which is not, however, the case. The following observations have as little to do with mysticism as the distinction between the seven colors of the rainbow has. They are simply an outcome of objective, scientific observation of the growing child. Even from a physical point of view, it is evident that a powerful change occurs when, in about a child’s seventh year, forces from within drive the second teeth out of the organism. This event does not recur, indicating that some kind of conclusion has been reached.
What is going on becomes clearer when we do not restrict our observations to the physical or change-of-teeth aspect of this seventh year, but extend them to parallel developments occurring alongside the physical changes. In this case, if we are capable of observing at all, we will see how a child’s entire soul life undergoes a gradual change during this period. We can observe how the child, who previously could form only blurred and indistinct concepts, now begins to form more sharply contoured concepts—how it is only now in fact that the child begins to form proper concepts at all. Furthermore, we notice how quite a different kind of memory is now unfolding. Formerly, when younger, the child might often have displayed signs of an excellent memory. That memory, however, was entirely natural and instinctive. Whereas there was before no need for any special effort in the act of remembering, the child who has passed this watershed must now make a mental effort to remember past events clearly. In short, it becomes obvious that, with the change of teeth around the seventh year, a child begins to be active in the realm of mental imagery, in forming simple thoughts, and in the sphere of conscious will activity.
But what is actually happening here? Where had this force been that we can now observe in the child’s soul and spirit, forming more clearly-defined mental images and thoughts? Where was that force before the child’s milk teeth were shed? This is the kind of question that remains unasked by our contemporary theorizing psychologists.
When physicists observe in a physical process an increase of warmth that is not due to external causes, they explain this phenomenon by the concept of “latent heat becoming liberated.” This implies that the heat that emerges must have existed previously within the substance itself. A similar kind of thinking must also be applied in the case of human life. Where were those forces of soul and spirit before they emerged in the child after the seventh year? They were latent in the child’s physical organism. They were active in its organic growth, in its organic structuring, until, with the pushing out of the second teeth, a kind of climax was reached, indicating the conclusion of this first period of growth, so particularly active during the child’s early years. Psychology today is quite abstract. People cogitate on the relationship of soul to body, and devise the most remarkable and grandiloquent hypotheses. Empty phrases, however, will not lead to an art of education. Spiritual science, for its part, shows that what we see emerging cognitively in a child after the seventh year was actively engaged in its inner organism before the second dentition. It shows that what appears in a child’s soul after the change of teeth was active before as an organic force that has now become liberated.
In a similar way, a true spiritual researcher observes in a concrete manner—not abstractly—the entire course of human life. To illustrate that concrete manner of observation, let us now consider a well-known and specific childhood phenomenon. Let us look at children at play, at children’s games. If we can do so without preconception and with dedicated interest in the growing human being, we know—although every game has a certain form and shares common, characteristic features—that, whatever the game, each child will play it with his or her own individual style. Now those who raise or educate young children can, to a certain extent, influence or guide how a child plays according to the child’s own nature. Also, depending on our pedagogical skills, we can try to steer our children’s play into more purposeful directions. And, if we pay attention to all this, we can clearly discriminate between the various individual styles of playing until the child reaches an age when they are no longer so clearly identifiable. Once a child enters school and other interests are crowding in, however, it becomes more difficult to see the future consequences of his or her characteristic style of playing. Nevertheless, if we do not observe superficially and, realizing that the course of life represents a whole, extend the range of our observations to span the entire earthly life, we might discover the following.
Around twenty-four or twenty-five—that is, when young adults must find their links with the outer world, and when they must fit themselves into the social fabric of the wider community—there will be those who prove themselves more skillful than others in dealing with all aspects and details of their tasks. Now, careful observation will reveal that the way in which people in their twenties adapt themselves to outer conditions of life, with greater or lesser skill, is a direct consequence of their play activity during early childhood.
Certain rivers, whose sources may be clearly traced, disappear below the earth’s surface during their course, only to resurface at a later stage. We can compare this phenomenon with certain faculties in human life. The faculty of playing, so prominent in a young child, is particularly well developed during the first years of life. It then vanishes into the deeper regions of the soul to resurface during the twenties, transmuted into an aptitude for finding one’s way in the world. Just think: by guiding the play of young children, we, as educators, are directly intervening in the happiness or unhappiness, the future destiny, of young people in their twenties!
Such insights greatly sharpen our sense of responsibility as educators. They also stimulate the desire to work toward a genuine art of education. Tight-fitting, narrow concepts cannot reach the core of human nature. To do so, a wide and comprehensive view is needed. Such a view can be gained if we recognize that such interconnections as I have mentioned affect human life. It will also make us realize that we must distinguish between definite life periods in human development, the first of which extends from birth to the change of teeth and has a character all its own.
At this point, I should mention that those who choose to become teachers or educators through anthroposophical spiritual science are filled with the consciousness that a message from the spiritual world is actually present in what they meet in such enigmatic and wondrous ways in the developing human being, the child. Such teachers observe the child with its initially indeterminate features, noticing how they gradually assume more definite forms. They see how children’s movements and life stirrings are undefined to begin with and how directness and purpose then increasingly enter their actions from the depths of their souls. Those who have prepared themselves to become teachers and educators through anthroposophical spiritual science are aware that something actually descending from the spiritual worlds lives in the way the features of a child’s face change from day to day, week to week, and year to year, gradually evolving into a distinct physiognomy. And they know too that something spiritual is descending in what is working through the lively movements of a child’s hands and in what, quite magically, enters into a child’s way of speaking.
To learn to recognize this activity of the spiritual world, which is so different from that of the physical world; to meet the child as an educator with such an inner attitude and mood as I have described: this means that we see in the vocation of teaching a source of healing. This vocation could be expressed as follows: The spiritual worlds have entrusted a human soul into my care. I have been called upon to assist in solving the riddles that this child poses. By means of a deepened knowledge of the human being—transformed into a real art, the art of education—it is my task to show this child the way into life.
Such deepened knowledge of human nature reveals that, in the first period of life, a child is what I would like to call an “imitating” being. (You will find a more detailed account of this characteristic feature in my booklet The Education of the Child in the Light of Anthroposophy.) Descending from the spiritual world, the child brings to outer expression—like an echo from the spiritual world—the last experiences undergone there. As anthroposophists, when we educate our children, we are aware that the way in which children imitate their surroundings is childish and primitive. They copy what is done before them with their movements. They learn to speak entirely and only through imitation. And, until they lose their milk teeth, they also imitate what happens morally in their environment.
What lies behind all of this can be rightly understood only with the help of spiritual science. Before conception or birth, a child lives in the spiritual world, the same spiritual world that can be known and consciously experienced if we strengthen the power of memory and develop the power of love in the ways I described during our last meeting. In that spiritual world, the relationship of one being to another is not one in which they confront one another outwardly; rather, each being is capable of living right into another—objectively, yet full of love. Children then bring this relationship of spiritual beings to one another down to earth. It is like a resonant echo of the spiritual world. We can observe here how children become creatures of imitation, how everything they learn and make their own during these first seven years, they learn through imitation. Any genuine art of education must fully respect this principle of imitation—otherwise, it is all too easy to misjudge our children’s behavior.
To illustrate this point, let me give you an example, just one of hundreds that could be chosen. The father of a boy, aged about five, once came to me and told me that a very sad thing had happened; namely, that his boy had been stealing. I suggested that we begin by carefully examining whether in fact the child had really stolen. The father told me that the boy had taken money from the drawer where his wife kept it and had then bought candy with it, which he shared with other children in the street. I asked the father what usually happened with the money kept in the drawer. He replied that the boy’s mother took the amount of money needed for the household that day out of her drawer every morning. Hearing this, I could reassure him that his boy had not stolen at all. I said, “The child is five years old. This means that he is still fully in the stage of imitation. Therefore, it is only good and proper that he should do what he sees done in his environment. His mother takes money out of the drawer every day, and so he naturally copies her. This is not stealing but merely behavior appropriate to the fundamental principle of a child’s development during the first seven-year period.”
A real teacher must know these things. During the first seven years of life, one cannot guide and direct a child by reprimands, nor by moral commands. During this period, one must guide a child by one’s own deeds and by setting an example. But there are of course imponderables to be reckoned with in human as in outer nature. We guide a child not only with external deeds, but also with inner thoughts and feelings. If children enjoy the company of grown-ups who never allow unworthy thoughts or feelings to enter into their lives, something noble and good could become of them. On the other hand, if adults allow themselves mean, ignoble thoughts or feelings when they are around young people, believing that such thoughts or feelings do not matter since everyone is safely ensheathed within an individual bodily structure, they are mistaken, for such things do work on children. Imponderables are at work.
Such imponderables also manifest themselves in the second period of life, which begins after the change of teeth—when the child enters school—and lasts until the age of puberty, around fourteen. When we were working out the fundamentals of a truly spiritual-scientific, spiritually artistic pedagogy for the Waldorf school in Stuttgart—founded by Emil Molt and directed by myself—we had to make a special study of this transition from the first life period, that of imitation, to the second period, from the change of teeth to puberty. For all teaching, education, and upbringing at the Waldorf School is to be based entirely upon anthroposophical insight into human nature. And because children change from the stage of imitation into quite a different stage—I shall say more about this presently—we had to make a special effort to study this time of transition.
During the second period, leading up to puberty, imitation alone no longer suffices to form the faculties, the child’s whole being. A new impulse now emerges from the depths of the child’s soul. The child now wishes to regard the teacher as a figure of undisputed authority. Today, when everything goes under the banner of democracy, the demand is easily made that schools, too, should be “democratized.” There are even those who would do away with the distinction between teacher and pupil altogether, advocating “community schools,” or whatever name these bright ideas are given. Such ideas are a consequence of party-political attitudes, not knowledge of human nature. But educational questions should not be judged from partisan positions; they should be judged only on their own merits. And, if you do this, you will find that, between second dentition and puberty, a child is no longer obliged to imitate, but now has a deep desire to learn what is right or wrong, good or evil, from a beloved and naturally respected authority figure.
Happy are those who throughout their lives can remember such childhood authorities and can say of themselves, “I had a teacher. When I went to visit her, opening the door to her room, I already felt full of awe. To me, it was perfectly natural that my teacher was the source of everything good and true.” Such things are not subject to argument on social or any other grounds. What is important is to gain the insight into human nature so that one can say, “Just as a young child’s urge to play, which manifests in individually different ways, resurfaces as more or less skill in fitting into life when the young person is in his or her twenties, so another, similar transformation also occurs regarding a child’s reverence for the teacher as a figure of authority. That is, only if faith in the authority of the adults in charge develops fully between the ages of approximately seven and fifteen will the right sense of freedom develop later, when the feeling for freedom must be the basis for all social life.”
People cannot become free as adults unless they found as children support in the natural authority of adults. Likewise, only those who during the first period of life are allowed to pass through the process of adjusting themselves to their environment through the inborn desire to imitate can be motivated as adults to take a loving interest in the social sphere. This ability to adjust based on imitation does not last; what is needed in later life is a social awareness, the development of which depends on how far educators of children under seven can become worthy models of imitation. We need people today who are able to place themselves into life with a genuine sense of freedom. They are those who were able to look up to their educators and teachers as persons of authority during the time between their second dentition and puberty.
If one has stated publicly—as I already did in my book Intuitive Thinking as a Spiritual Path, published in 1892—that the sense of freedom and the feeling for freedom are the basic facts of social life, one is hardly likely to speak against freedom and democracy. But, just because of this positive attitude towards freedom, one must also acknowledge that the practice of education as an art depends on the sense of authority, developed by the child during the second period of life. During this same period, the child also has to make a gradual transition from living in mental images—or pictures—to a more intellectual approach, a process that moves through and beyond another important turning point.
A true art of education must be able to penetrate such important issues.
The turning point to be discussed now occurs around a child’s ninth year—but sometimes not before the tenth or even the eleventh year. When our teachers recognize that a child is passing this point, they accompany the change with an appropriate change in pedagogy. In early childhood, a child learns to speak, gradually learning to refer to itself as “I”. Up to the ninth year, however, the distinction between the child’s “I” and the surrounding world is still rather undefined. Those who can observe things carefully recognize that the period when a child learns to differentiate between self and surroundings—approximately between the ninth and the eleventh years—is critical. It is a time when the child is actually crossing a Rubicon. The way in which the teachers respond to this change is of greatest importance for a child’s future life. Teachers must have the right feeling for what is happening. They must realize that the child no longer experiences itself as an organic part of its environment—as a finger might experience itself as a part of the body if it had its own consciousness—but as a separate, independent entity. If they do so and respond in the right way as teachers, they can create a source of lasting joy and vitality in life. But if they fail to respond rightly, they open the way to barren and weary lives for their pupils later on. It is important to realize that, prior to this significant change, the child still lives in a world of pictures so closely related to its own nature that, unable to appreciate the difference between self and environment, it merges into its surroundings. Therefore, in assisting a child to establish its relationship to the world at this stage, a teacher must use a pictorial approach.
We receive the children into our school from their parental homes. Today, we live in an age when writing and reading have produced conventional symbols no longer bearing any direct inner relationship to the human being. Compare the abstract letters of our alphabet with the picture writing used in ages past. What was fixed into written forms in ancient times still bore a resemblance to people’s mental images. But writing nowadays has become quite abstract. If we introduce children directly to these abstract letters in reading and writing lessons, we introduce them to something alien to their nature, or at least something inappropriate for six-, seven-, or eight-year olds. For this reason, we use a different method in our Waldorf school.
Instead of beginning with the letters of the alphabet, we engage our young pupils in artistic activity by letting them paint and draw; that is, work with colors and forms. In this activity, not only the head is engaged—which would have a very harmful effect—but the child’s entire being is involved. We then let the actual letters emerge out of these color-filled forms. This is how our Waldorf pupils learn writing. They learn writing first. And only afterward do they learn to read, for printed letters are even more abstract than our handwritten ones. In other words, only gradually do we develop the abstract element, so necessary today, from the artistic element which is more closely allied to life. We proceed similarly in other subjects, too. And we work in this way toward a living, artistic pedagogy that makes it possible to reach the very soul of the child. As for the nature of what we usually think of as plant, mineral, and so forth, this can be fruitfully taught only after the child has passed the turning point just characterized and can differentiate itself from its surroundings.
Working along these lines, it might well happen that some of our pupils learn to read and write later than pupils in other schools. But this is no drawback. On the contrary, it is even an advantage. Of course, it is quite possible to teach young children reading and writing by rote and get them to rattle off what is put before their eyes, but it is also possible to deaden something in them by doing this, and anything killed during childhood remains dead for the rest of one’s life. The opposite is equally true. What we allow to live and what we wake into life is the very stuff that will blossom and give life vitality. To nurture this process, surely, is the task of a real educator.
You will doubtless have heard of those educational ideas already published during the nineteenth century that emphasize the importance of activating a child’s individuality. We are told that, instead of cramming children with knowledge, we should bring out their inherent gifts and abilities. Certainly, no one would wish to denigrate such great geniuses of education. Important things have certainly been said by the science of education. On the other hand, though one can listen carefully to its abstract demands, such as that the individuality of the child should be developed, positive results will be achieved only if one is able to observe, day by day, how a child’s individuality actually unfolds. One must know how, during the first seven years, the principle of imitation rules the day; how, during the following period from the seventh to the fourteenth year, the principle of authority predominates; and how this latter principle is twinned with the child’s gradual transition from mental imagery—which is essentially of a pictorial or symbolic nature and based on memory—to the forming of concepts by the awakening intellect: a process that begins in the eleventh to twelfth year. If we can observe all of this and learn from a spiritual-scientific and artistic way of observing how to respond as a teacher, we shall achieve much more than if we attempt to follow an abstract aim, such as educating a child out of its individuality. Spiritual science does not create abstractions, it does not make fixed demands; rather, it looks toward what can be developed into an art through spiritual perceptiveness and a comprehensive, sharpened sense of observation.
Last time, I was able to describe only briefly the kind of knowledge of the human being given by spiritual science that can form a basis for dealing with such practical matters as education. The pressing demands of society show clearly enough the need for such knowledge today. By complementing the outer, material aspects of life with supersensible and spiritual insights, spiritual science or anthroposophy leads us from a generally unreal, abstract concept of life to a concrete practical reality. According to this view, human beings occupy a central position in the universe. Such realistic understanding of human nature and human activities is what is needed today. Let me reinforce this point with a characteristic example.
Imagine that we wanted to convey a simple religious concept—for instance, the concept of the immortality of the human soul—to a class of young children. If we approach the subject pictorially, we can do this before a child’s ninth year. For example, we can say, “Look at the butterfly’s chrysalis. Its hard shell cracks open and the butterfly flutters out into the air. A similar thing happens when a human being dies. The immortal soul dwells in the body. But, when death breaks it open, just as the butterfly flies from the chrysalis into the air, so the soul flies away from the dead body into the heavenly world, only the human soul remains invisible.”
When we study such an example from the point of view of a living art of education, we come face to face with life’s imponderables. A teacher might have chosen such a comparison by reasoning somewhat as follows: “I am the one who knows, for I am much older than the child. I have thought out this picture of the caterpillar and the butterfly because of the child’s ignorance and immaturity. As someone of superior intelligence, I have made the child believe something in which I myself do not believe. In fact, from my own point of view, it was only a silly little story, invented solely for the purpose of getting the child to understand the concept of the immortality of the soul.” If this is a teacher’s attitude, he or she will achieve but little. Although to say this might sound paradoxical in our materialistic age, it is nevertheless true: if teachers are insincere, their words do not carry much weight.
To return to our example. If Waldorf teachers had chosen this comparison for their classes, the situation, though outwardly similar, would have been very different. For they would not have used it—nor, for that matter, any other picture or simile—unless they were convinced of its inherent truth. A Waldorf teacher, an anthroposophically oriented spiritual researcher, would not feel, “I am the intelligent adult who makes up a story for the children’s benefit,” but rather: “The eternal beings and powers, acting as the spiritual in nature, have placed before my eyes a picture of the immortal human soul, objectively, in the form of the emerging butterfly. Believing in the truth of this picture with every fibre of my being, and bringing it to my pupils through my own conviction, I will awaken in them a truly religious concept. What matters is not so much what I, as teacher, say to the child, but what I am and what my heartfelt attitude is.” These are the kinds of things that must be taken more and more seriously in the art of education.
You will also understand when I tell you that visitors to our Waldorf school, who come to see the school in action and to observe lessons, cannot see the whole. It is almost as if, for instance, you cut a small piece out of a Rembrandt painting, believing that you could gain an overall impression of the whole picture through it. Such a thing is not possible when an impulse is conceived and practiced as a comprehensive whole—as the Waldorf school is—and when it is rooted in the totality of anthroposophical spiritual science.
You might have been wondering which kind of people would make good teachers in such a school. They are people whose entire lives have been molded by the spiritual knowledge of which I spoke last time. The best way of learning to know the Waldorf school and of becoming familiar with its underlying principles is by gaining knowledge of anthroposophical spiritual science itself at least as a first step. A few short visits in order to observe lessons will hardly convey an adequate impression of Waldorf pedagogy.
Plain speaking in such matters is essential, because it points toward the character of the new spirit that, flowing from the High School of Spiritual Science centered in Dornach, is to enter all practical spheres of life—social, artistic, educational, and so forth.
If you consider thoroughly all that I have been telling you, you will no longer think it strange that those who enter more deeply into the spirit underlying this art of education find it absolutely essential to place themselves firmly upon the ground of a free spiritual life. Because education has become dependent on the state on the one hand and on the economic sphere on the other, there is a tendency for it to become abstract and programmatic. Those who believe in the anthroposophical way of life must insist on a free and independent cultural-spiritual life. This represents one of the three branches of the threefold social order about which I wrote in my book The Threefold Commonwealth.
One of the demands that must be made for spiritual life—something that is not at all utopian, that may be begun any day—is that those actively engaged in spiritual life (and this means, above all, those involved in its most important public domain; namely, education) should also be entrusted with all administrative matters, and this in a broad and comprehensive way.
The maximum number of lessons to be taught—plus the hours spent on other educational commitments—should allow teachers sufficient time for regular meetings, in both smaller and larger groups, to deal with administrative matters. However, only practicing teachers—not former teachers now holding state positions or retired teachers—should be called on to care for this side of education. For what has to be administered in each particular school—as in all institutions belonging to the spiritual-cultural life—should be only a continuation of what is being taught, of what forms the content of every word spoken and every deed performed in the classroom. Rules and regulations must not be imposed from outside the school. In spiritual life, autonomy, self-administration, is essential.
I am well aware that people who like to form logical “quickly tailored” concepts, as well as others who, somewhat superficially, favor a more historical perspective, will readily object to these ideas. But in order to recognize the necessity of making spiritual- cultural life into a free and independent member of the social organism, one really must be acquainted with its inherent nature. Anyone who has been a teacher at a working-class adult education center for several years—as I was in the school founded by Wilhelm Liebknecht, thereby gaining first-hand experience of the social question—knows only too well that this is not merely a matter of improving external arrangements or of dealing with dissatisfaction caused by unjust outer conditions. As I say, if one has taught in such circles, one knows that one word comes up repeatedly in proletarian circles, but extends far beyond proletarian life, namely, the word “ideology,” the meaning of which is set out in the first chapter of The Threefold Commonwealth. Now, what is hidden behind this?
Long ago, in the ancient East, people spoke of the great illusion or “maya.” According to this view—already decadent today and hence unsuited to our Western ways—maya refers to the external sensory world which offers us only semblance or outer appearance. To ancient sages, true reality of being—the reality that sustained human beings—lived and grew in the soul. All else, all that the outer senses beheld, was only maya.
We live today in an age that expresses—especially in its most radical philosophies—a total reversal of this ancient view. For most people today true reality resides in outer, physical nature and in the processes of production, while what can be found inwardly in the human soul as morality, art, religion, knowledge is maya, illusion. If we want to translate the word maya correctly, we must translate it as “ideology.” For modern humanity, all other translations fail. But ideology refers to exactly the opposite of what maya was for the ancient oriental. The widest circles of the population today call maya what the ancient oriental called the sole reality. And this reversal of the word’s meaning is of great significance for life today.
I have known people of the leading classes who lived under the influence of the philosophy that gave rise to ideology. I have learned to know the perplexity of people who reasoned thus: if we trust what natural science tells us, the entire origin of the cosmos can be traced to a primeval nebula. According to these theories, all of the different species of nature began during this stage. At that time, too, human beings densified out of the nebula. And, while this process continued, something not unlike soap bubbles unfolded in the human soul. According to natural science, what rises in the human soul as ethics, religion, science or art, does not represent reality. Indeed, if we look toward the end of earthly evolution as it is presented by science, all that is offered is the prospect of an immense cemetery. On earth, death would follow, due either to general glaciation, or to total annihilation by heat. In either case, the result would be a great cemetery for all human ideals—for everything considered to be the essence of human values and the most important aspect of human existence. If we are honest in accepting what natural science tells us—such people had to conclude—then all that remains is only a final extinction of all forms of existence.
I have witnessed the sense of tragedy and the deep-seated pain in the souls of such materialistically minded members of today’s leading circles, who could not escape the logical conclusions of the natural-scientific outlook and who were consequently forced to look on all that is most precious in the human beings as mere illusion. In many people, I have seen this pessimism, which was a result of their honest pursuit of the natural-scientific conception of the world.
This attitude took a special form in the materialism of the working class. There, everything of a spiritual nature is generally looked upon as a kind of a superstructure, as mere smoke or fog; in a word, as “ideology”. And what enters and affects the soul condition of modern people in this way is the actual source of the contemporary anti-social sentiment—however many other reasons might be constantly invented and published. They amount only to a form of self deception. It is the influence of this attitude which is the real origin of the dreadful catastrophes that are dawning—undreamt of by most people—in the whole East. So far, they have started in Russia, where they have already assumed devastating proportions. They will assume even greater dimensions unless steps are taken to replace an ideology by a living grasp of the spirit.
Anthroposophical spiritual science gives us not only ideas and concepts of something real but also ideas and concepts by which we know that we are not just thinking about something filled with spirit. Spiritual science gives us the living spirit itself, not just spirit in the form of thoughts. It shows human beings as beings filled with living spirit—just like the ancient religions. Like the ancient religions, the message of spiritual science is not just “you will know something,” but “you will know something, and divine wisdom will thereby live in you. As blood pulses in you, so by true knowing will divine powers too pulse in you.” Spiritual science, as represented in Dornach, wishes to bring to humanity precisely such knowledge and spiritual life.
To do so, we need the support of our contemporaries. Working in small ways will not lead to appropriate achievements. What is needed is work on a large scale. Spiritual science is free from sectarianism. It has the will to carry out the great tasks of our times, including those in the practical spheres of life. But to bring this about, spiritual science must be understood in a living way by contemporary society. It is not enough to open a few schools here and there, modeled on the Waldorf school, as some people wish. This is not the way forward, for it will not lead to greater freedom in spiritual life.
Often, I have had to suffer the painful experience of witnessing the conduct of certain people who, because of their distrust in orthodox, materialistic medicine, approached me, trying to tempt me into quackery. They wanted to be cured by creeping through the back door, as it were. I have experienced it to the point of revulsion. There was, for instance, a Prussian government official, who publicly supported materialistic medicine in parliament, granting it sole rights, only to enter by the back door to be treated by the very people whom he had opposed most violently in parliament.
The Anthroposophical Society—which could, from a certain point of view, be justly described as willing to make sacrifices and whose members have dedicated themselves to the cultivation of anthroposophical spiritual science—seeks a powerful impetus, capable of affecting and working into the world at large. What is at issue today is nothing less than the following—that a true spiritual life, such as our present society needs, can be created only by those interested in it, which fundamentally includes everyone, many of whom have children, and that these must bring about the right conditions in which children can mature into free human beings so that those children, in turn, can create an existence worthy of humanity. As far as spiritual- cultural life is concerned, everyone is an interested party and should do his or her share to work for what the future will provide in the form of spiritual-cultural life.
Thus, what I would like to call “a world school movement,” based on the ideas I have put forward today, should meet with approval in the widest quarters. What really ought to happen is that all those who can clearly see the need for a free spiritual-cultural life should unite to form an international world school movement. An association of that kind would offer a stronger and more-living impetus for uniting nations than many other associations being founded these days on the basis of old and abstract principles. Such a union of nations, spiritually implied in a world school movement, could be instrumental in uniting peoples all over the globe by their participation in this great task. The modern state school system superseded the old denominational schools relatively recently. It was good and right that this happened. And yet, what was a blessing at the time when the state took this step would cease to be one if state-controlled education were to become permanent; for then, inevitably, education would become the servant of the state. The state can train theologians, lawyers, or other professionals to become its civil servants, but if the spiritual life is to be granted full independence, all persons in a teaching capacity must be responsible solely to the spiritual world, to which they can look up in the light of anthroposophically oriented spiritual science.
A world school movement, as I envisage it, would have to be founded on an entirely international basis by all who understand the meaning of a truly free spiritual life and what our human future demands in social questions. Gradually, such a world school movement would give birth to the general opinion that schools must be granted independence from the state and that the teachers in each school must be given the freedom to deal with that school’s own administration. We must not be narrow minded or pedantic in these matters, as many are who doubt that enough parents would send their children to such schools. That is the wrong kind of thinking. One must be clear that freedom from state interference in education will be the call of the future. Even if there are objections from some parents, ways and means will have to be found for getting children to attend school without coercion by the state. Instead of opposing the founding of independent schools because of dissenting parents, ways and means will have to be found of helping free schools to come into existence despite possible opposition or criticisms—which must then be overcome in an appropriate way. I am convinced that the founding of a world school movement is of the greatest importance for the social development of humanity. Far and wide, it will awaken a sense for a real and practical free spiritual life. Once such a mood becomes universal, there will be no need to open Waldorf schools tucked away in obscure corners and existing at the mercy of governments, but governments will be forced into recognizing them fully and refraining from any interference, as long as these schools are truly founded in a free spiritual life.
What I have said so far about freedom in the cultural-spiritual sphere of life—namely that it has to create its own forms of existence—applies equally to the social sphere known by spiritual science as the sphere of economic life. Just as the sphere of cultural spiritual life must be formed on the basis of the capacities of every individual, so too must economic life be formed on the basis of its own principles, different though these are. Fundamentally, such economic principles derive from the fact that, in economics, a judgment made by an individual cannot be translated directly into deeds, into economic actions. In the cultural-spiritual sphere, we recognize that human souls strive for wholeness, for inner harmony. Teachers and educators must take that wholeness into account. They approach a child with that wholeness as their aim. In the economic sphere, on the other hand, we can be competent in a professional sense only in narrower, more specialized areas. In economics, therefore, it is only when we join together with people working in other areas that something fruitful may be achieved. In other words, just as free spiritual-cultural life emerged as one member of the threefold social organism, so likewise must economic life, based upon the associative principle, arise as another, independent member of this same threefold organism. In the future, economic life will be run on a basis quite different from what we are used to out of the past.
Economic life today is organized entirely according to past practices, for there is no other yardstick for earnings and profits. Indeed, people are not yet ready to contemplate a change in the economic system which is still entirely motivated by profit. I would like to clarify this by an example that, though perhaps not yet representing purely and simply the economic sphere, nevertheless has its economic aspects. It shows how the associative principle can be put into practice in the material realm.
There is, as you know, the Anthroposophical Society. It might well be that there are many people who are not particularly fond of it and regard it as sectarian, which it certainly is not. Or they may be under the impression that it dabbles in nebulous mysticism, which again is not the case. Rather, it devotes itself to the cultivation of anthroposophical spiritual science. Many years ago, this Society founded the Philosophic- Anthroposophic Publishing Company in Berlin. To be exact, two people who were in harmony with the Anthroposophical Society’s mode of thinking founded it. This publishing company, however, does not work as other profit-making companies, which are the offspring of modern economic thinking, do. And how do these profit-making enterprises work? They print books. This means that so and so many people have to be employed for processing paper; so and so many compositors, printers, bookbinders; and so on. But now I ask you to look at those strange and peculiar products that make their appearance every year and which are called “crabs” in the book trade. These are newly printed books, which have not been purchased by the book sellers and which, consequently, at the next Easter Fair wander back to the publishers to be pulped. Here we have a case where wares have been put on the market, the production of which had occupied a whole host of workers, but all to no avail.
Such unnecessary and purposeless expenditure of labor represents one important aspect of the social question. Nowadays, because one prefers to live with phrases rather than an objective understanding, there is too much talk about “unearned income.” It would be better to look at the situation more realistically, for similar situations arise in all branches of our external, material life. Until now, the Philosophic-Anthroposophic Publishing Company has not printed one single copy in vain. At most, there are a few books that were printed out of courtesy to our members. That was our conscious motive; they were printed as a kind of offering to those members. Otherwise there was always a demand for whatever we printed. Our books always sold out quickly and nothing was printed unnecessarily. Not a single worker’s time was wasted and no useless labor was performed within the social framework. A similar situation could be achieved in the whole economic sphere if one organized cooperation between consumers who have an understanding of needs and demands in a particular domain, traders who trade in certain products, and last, the actual producers. Consumers, traders, and producers would form an association whose main task would be the fixing of prices. Such associations would have to determine their own size; if they grew too large, they would no longer be cost effective. Such associations could then unite to form larger associations. They could expand into what might be called global or world-economic associations—for the characteristic feature of recent economics is its expansion of economies into a world economy.
A great deal more would have to be said to give an adequate account of what I can indicate here only in principle. I must, however, say that the concept of associative life implies nothing organizational. In fact, although I come from Germany (and have lived there frequently even though my main sphere of activity is now Dornach, Switzerland) the mere word “organization” produces a thoroughly distasteful effect in me. “Organization” implies an ordering from above, from a center. This is something that economic life cannot tolerate. Because the Middle-European states, penned in between the West and the East, were trying to plan their economies, they were actually working against a healthy form of economic life. The associative principle which must be striven for in economics leaves industry, as also industrial cooperatives, to their own devices. It only links them together according to levels of production and consumption regulated by the activity of the administrators of the various associations. This is done through free agreements among single individuals or various associations.
A more detailed description of this subject can be found in my book The Threefold Commonwealth, or in other of my writings, such as The Renewal of the Social Organism, which is supplementary to The Threefold Commonwealth.
Thus, in order to meet the needs of our times, anthroposophical spiritual science, based on practical life experience, calls for two independent members of the social organism—a free spiritual life and an associative economic life. Those two are essential in the eyes of anyone seriously and honestly concerned about one of the fundamental longings in the hearts of our contemporaries; namely, the longing for democracy.
Dear friends, I spent the first half of my life in Austria—thirty years—and have seen with my own eyes what it means not to take seriously society’s heartfelt demand for democracy. In the 1860s, the call for parliamentarianism was heard in Austria, too. But because it could not bring about the right social conditions, this land of political experimentation was the first to go under in the last great World War. A parliament was formed. But how was it constituted? It was composed of four assemblies: landowners, the chamber of commerce, the department of towns, markets and industrial areas, and, finally, the assembly of country parishes. In other words, only economic interests were represented. There were thus four departments, each dealing with various aspects of the national economy. Together, they constituted the Austrian Parliament, where they were supposed to come to decisions regarding political and legal matters as well as matters pertaining to general affairs of the state. This means that all decisions, reached by majority vote, represented only economic interests. Such majorities, however, can never make fruitful contributions to the social development of humanity. Nor are they the outcome of any expert knowledge. Truly, the call for democracy, for human freedom, demands honesty.
At the same time, however, one must also be clear that only certain issues are suitable for parliamentary procedures, and that democracy is appropriate only when the issues treated lie within the areas of responsibility of each person of voting age. Thus, between free spiritual life on one side and associative economic life on the other, the sphere of democracy becomes the third member of the threefold social organism. This democratic sphere represents the political sphere of rights within the social organism. Here each individual meets the other on equal terms. For instance, in such questions as the number of working hours and the rights of workers in general, each person of age must be considered competent to judge.
Let us move toward a future in which questions of cultural and spiritual life are decided freely and entirely within their own sphere, a future in which freedom in education is striven for so that schools can work out of the spirit and, consequently, produce skillful, practical people. Then, practical schools, too, will develop from such a free spiritual life. Let us move toward a future in which spiritual life is allowed to work within its own sphere and in which the powers of the state are limited to what lies within the areas of responsibility of each person of voting age; a future in which economic life is structured according to the principle of associations, where judgments are made collectively on the strength of the various members’ expertise and where agreements are made with others who are experts in their fields. If we approach the future with these aims in mind, we shall move toward a situation that will be very different from what many people, unable to adapt themselves to new conditions, imagine today.
There will be many who believe that a nebulous kind of cultural spiritual life, alienated from ordinary life, emanates from Dornach. But such is not the case at all. However absurd it may sound, according to the spirit prevailing in Dornach, no one can be a proper philosopher who does not also know how to chop wood or dig potatoes. In short, according to this spirit, one cannot be a philosopher if one cannot turn a hand to tasks requiring at least a modicum of practical skill. Spiritual science does not estrange people from practical life; on the contrary, it helps them develop skills in coping with life. It is not abstract. It is a reality, penetrating human beings with real strength. It therefore not only increases people’s thinking activity, it also makes them generally more skillful. At the same time, spiritual science is intimately connected to a sense of inner dignity and morality; that is, to morality, religion, and art. Visitors to the Goetheanum can convince themselves of this—although the building is not finished yet by any means. Indeed, in order to bring it even into its present state, people with an understanding for the impulse it embodies have already made many sacrifices. The Goetheanum is not a result of our employing the services of an architect and a builder to erect a building in a more or less conventional style—be it in Gothic, Renaissance, or any other style. The living quality of the science of the spirit spoken of here could not have tolerated that. Spiritual science had to evolve its own style in keeping with its own nature. This manifests in the various artistic forms. Just as the same growth forces that produce a nut’s kernel also form its shell—for the shell can be formed only by the same principle as also works in the kernel—so the outer shell of our building, the center of what is being willed in Dornach, can arise only from the same spiritual sources from which all of the teaching and researching in Dornach also flows. The words spoken there and the results of research conducted there all proceed from the same sources as the artistic forms of the building’s pillars and the paintings inside the cupolas. All of the sculpture, architectural design, and painting—and these are not empty symbolism or allegories—arise from the same spiritual impulses that underlie all of the teaching and researching. And, because all this is part of the one cultural-spiritual life that we hope to quicken in the human being, the third, religious element, is closely linked to the arts and to science, forming a unity with them.
In other words, what we are striving for as spiritual science—as it enters into the practical spheres of life as the “threefolding” (or tripartition) of the social organism—brings to realization the three great ideals that resound from the eighteenth century in such a heart-rending, spirit-awakening way. I refer to the threefold call to humanity: freedom, equality, brotherhood. Learned people in the nineteenth century pointed out repeatedly that it was impossible for those three ideals to be put into practice simultaneously under any one state or government. Such was their considered opinion and, from their point of view, justifiably so. But the apparent incongruity rests on false premises. Freedom, equality, and brotherhood do resound to us from the eighteenth century as the three great and justly-claimed ideals. The source of misunderstanding is the tacit assumption that the state must be given sole prerogative in matters pertaining to all three spheres of society. The thought never occurred that, in accord with its own nature, such a monolithic state should be membered into three social organisms: the free spiritual organism; the organism representing the sphere of politics and rights, built on equality; and the organism of the economic sphere, built on the principle of association.
Objections have been raised against these views by people who expect to be taken seriously in social questions and who maintain that, by demanding a tripartition of society, I seek to destroy its unity. But the unity of the human organism is not destroyed because it naturally consists of three parts. Nor is the unity of the human being disturbed because the blood, as it circulates rhythmically through the body, is sustained by a part of the organism different from the one in which the nerves are centered. Likewise, the unity of the social organism is enhanced rather than disturbed by recognition of its threefold nature (if the human head, apart from sending forth the nerves, would also have to produce the blood, then the unity of the human organism would certainly be destroyed). All of this is explained in much greater detail in my book Riddles of the Soul.
I would like to conclude these considerations about spiritual science and its practical application in social life by pointing out that, although the three great ideals of humanity—liberty, equality, fraternity—are not realizable within the framework of an all-powerful state monopoly—where any attempted implementation would be founded upon illusion—they can nevertheless penetrate human life in the form of a threefold ordering of society. Here, the following order would prevail: full freedom in the cultural-spiritual sphere; equality in the realm where each person of voting age shares in democratic rights and responsibilities on equal terms with fellow citizens of voting age; and brotherhood in the economic sphere which will be realized by means of the principle of associations. Unity will not be destroyed by this ordering, for every human being stands in all three spheres, forming a living link toward unity.
Basically, one may consider the meaning of world evolution to reside in the fact that the particular ways of its working and its underlying forces culminate in the human being as the apex of the entire world organism. Just as the forces of nature and the entire cosmos—the macrocosm—are to be found again on a minute scale in the microcosm, in the threefold human being, so the great ideals—liberty, equality, and fraternity—must come together again in the social organism. But this must not be brought about by external or abstract means: it must proceed in accordance with reality, so that these three ideals can work in harmony with the human nature in its integral unity. As free individuals, every human being can share in the free spiritual life to which all belong. Sharing equal rights with our fellow citizens, we can all participate in the democratic life of the state, based on the principle of equality. Finally, by participating in economic life, we share in the brotherhood of all human beings.
Liberty in the cultural spiritual sphere; equality in political life and the sphere of rights; fraternity in economic life. These three working together harmoniously will lead to the healing and further evolution of humanity—to new resources in the struggle against the forces of decline.
A combination of these three in a genuine social organism, a concurrence of freedom, equality, and brotherhood in integral human nature—this appears to be the magical password for the future of humanity.
Erziehungs-, Unterrichts- Und Praktische Lebensfragen Vom Gesichtspunkte Anthroposophischer Geisteswissenschaft
Meine sehr verehrten Anwesenden! Ich habe mir erlaubt, im letzten Vortrag hinzuweisen auf das eigentliche Wesen anthroposophisch orientierter Geisteswissenschaft. Ich habe darauf hingewiesen, wie innerhalb dieser Geisteswissenschaft nach Methoden gesucht worden ist, um so in eine übersinnliche Welt einzudringen, wie man durch seine Sinnesorgane und durch den die Ergebnisse dieser Sinnesorgane kombinierenden Verstand in die äußerliche, physisch-sinnliche Welt eindringt. Ich habe diese Methoden das letzte Mal geschildert und ich habe darauf aufmerksam gemacht, wie es außer der gewöhnlichen heutigen Wissenschaft eine andere Wissenschaft gibt, eine Wissenschaft mit geistigen Methoden, die den vollen Beweis liefert durch Anschauung und Erfahrung, daß uns “eine übersinnliche Welt ebenso umgibt, wie uns eine sinnliche Welt umgibt. Ich möchte nun auf ein Ergebnis nochmals hinweisen, das ich im letzten Vortrage schon herausgearbeitet habe, und das ja in einer gewissen Art die Grundlage bilden muß für das, was ich heute werde zu sagen haben.
Die hier gemeinte anthroposophisch orientierte Geisteswissenschaft steht in keinem Gegensatz zu dem, was naturwissenschaftliche Weltanschauung der letzten drei bis vier Jahrhunderte geworden ist. Sie ist, wie ich das letzte Mal hervorgehoben habe, im Gegensatz nur zu einer, nicht mit diesen naturwissenschaftlichen Ergebnissen rechnenden, für die heutige Zeit mehr oder weniger dilettantischen Weltanschauung geworden. Geisteswissenschaft will eine Fortsetzung sein des naturwissenschaftlichen Denkens. Nur kommt man durch diese geisteswissenschaftliche Fortsetzung dazu, eben diejenige Erkenntnis zu erringen, die den: bedeutsamsten Seelensehnsuchten des modernen Menschen entgegenkommt. Man kommt dazu, den Menschen wirklich kennenzulernen.
Gerade die von der Geisteswissenschaft voll anerkannte Naturwissenschaft der neueren Zeit hat uns in der Entwickelungslehre eine wunderbare Übersicht gebracht über die allmähliche Entfaltung der Organismen bis hinauf zum Menschen; allein zuletzt steht doch der Mensch nur wie der Schlußpunkt dieser Entwickelung da.
Wir wissen innerhalb der Naturwissenschaft zu sagen: Ein Muskel, der in einer bestimmten Weise geformt ist, findet sich in der Tierreihe in dieser oder jener Form. Wir wissen: Der Mensch hat so und so viele Knochen; die Zahlen der Knochen stimmen überein mit denen der höheren Tiere. Wir gewöhnen uns, das Hervorgehen des ganzen Knochenbaus der höheren Tiere und des Menschen durch Entfaltung aus den niedrigeren zu erklären. Was aber der Mensch an sich trägt als Wesenheit, darüber kann man sich im Grunde keine Idee machen. Wer die Sache unbefangen durchschaut, muß das anerkennen. Man verfolgt die Naturerscheinungen und Naturwesen bis zum Menschen hinauf und sagt: So gliedert sich im Menschen dasjenige zusammen, was man in der übrigen Natur findet. Aber man kann nicht hinblicken auf die eigentliche Menschenwesenheit.
Was wir so in der naturwissenschaftlichen Erkenntnis haben, wir haben es auf der anderen Seite, wahrhaftig als eine Folge derselben Kräfte, die auch in der Erkenntnis wirken, im praktischen Leben. Wir haben es wirkend in dem, was mit solcher Not, in solcher Rätselhaftigkeit das moderne Leben durchzieht; wir haben es vor uns in dem, was man gewöhnlich die soziale Frage nennt. Millionen und Millionen von Menschen, welche der proletarischen Welt angehören, die die alten, traditionellen Religionen und Weltanschauungsbekenntnisse verlassen haben, geben sich dem Glauben hin, daß das einzig Wirkliche nicht der Mensch sei mit seinem Seelenleben, sondern das einzig Wirkliche sei das materielle, in den Produktionsprozessen der äußeren Wirtschaftlichkeit bestehende Leben. Dasjenige, was die menschliche Seele hervorbringt als Sitte, Religion, Wissenschaft, Kunst, das sei weiter nichts als, wie man so sagt, ein Überbau, ein ideologischer Überbau auf einem rein materiellen und sogar wirtschaftlich-materiellen Unterbau; gewissermaßen eine Art Rauch, der von dem nur Materiell-Wirklichen aufsteigt. Auch da wird das eigentliche Seelisch-Geistige des Menschen ausgeschaltet.
Das ist dasjenige, was das moderne Leben charakterisiert, daß weder die Erkenntnis wirklich heraufkommt bis zum Menschen, noch daß man das Menschliche schauen kann, empfinden kann, in seine Willensimpulse aufnehmen kann im sozialen Leben.
Die anthroposophisch orientierte Geisteswissenschaft empfindet voll, was nach dieser Richtung für die tiefsten, aber oftmals so unbewußt wirkenden Sehnsuchten der besten, modernen Menschenseelen zu leisten ist; zu leisten ist erstens auf dem Wege wahrer Menschenerkenntnis, zweitens auf dem Wege einer solchen menschlichen Erfüllung, daß der Mensch aus seiner Seele heraus wahre, soziale Impulse in das öffentliche Leben hineintragen kann. Denn ohne daß wir solche Impulse hineintragen, die aus dem tiefsten Menschlichen herauskommen, wird die beste Einrichtung im äußeren Leben nicht zu dem führen, was weiteste Kreise heute glauben entbehren zu müssen, was sie aber anstreben in sozialer Beziehung: ein menschenwürdiges Dasein.
Dasjenige, was ich nun vor ein paar Tagen hier als einen Weg in die geistige Welt charakterisiert habe, wird von vielen Menschen als etwas empfunden, was eher vom Leben wegführt, als daß es zu den zwei großen Lebensfragen hinführt, die ich heute noch einmal vor Sie hingestellt habe. Deshalb war es von so großer Bedeutung, daß diese anthroposophisch orientierte Geisteswissenschaft ihre Pflege in dem allerdings noch nicht vollendeten Goetheanum in Dornach in der Schweiz findet; daß diese Geisteswissenschaft unmittelbar auch an praktische Einrichtungen herangeht, um durch diese Einrichtungen ihre Menschenkenntnis und ihre Fähigkeit, in das menschliche praktische Leben einzugreifen, zu erweisen.
Ein wichtigstes praktisches Gebiet ist zweifellos das Erziehungs- und das Schulwesen. Indem wir die Kinder erziehen, haben wir im Grunde genommen zu handhaben dasjenige, was durch die nächste Generation erst in die Welt kommen soll, und das heißt außerordentlich viel. Es ist der Weg, in die nächste Zukunft hineinzuwirken, wenn wir durch das Erziehungs- und Schulwesen auf die Kinder wirken. Indem anthroposophisch orientierte Geisteswissenschaft gerade die Wege zum Menschenwesen sucht, gelangt sie dazu, auch das werdende Menschenwesen, das Kind, in umfassender Weise kennenzulernen. Und aus einer solchen umfassenden Erkenntnis des werdenden Menschenwesens, des Kindes, sucht die anthroposophisch orientierte Geisteswissenschaft eine wirkliche Erziehungs- und Unterrichtskunst zu gewinnen. Denn dasjenige, was aus anthroposophisch orientierter Geisteswissenschaft heraus zur Auffassung und zum Durchdringen der Menschenwesenheit führt, erschöpft sich nicht in abstrakten Begriffen, in theoretischen Vorstellungen, sondern es bildet sich zuletzt aus zu einem künstlerischen Erfassen zunächst der menschlichen Gestalt, dann aber auch der menschlichen Seelenfähigkeit und Geistesfähigkeit. Man kann lange sagen, wirkliche Wissenschaft müsse in nüchterner, trockener Weise, wie man das so nennt, mit objektiven Begriffen allein arbeiten. Ja, meine sehr verehrten Anwesenden, wenn die Natur, wenn die Welt aber nicht in solchen Begriffen schafft! Wenn die Welt spottet dem Verlangen, ihr Schaffen in solche Gesetze zu bannen, wie wir unsere Naturgesetze haben wollen, wenn sie nicht in nüchterne, bloß äußerliche, leichtgeschürzte, logische Begriffe zu fassen wäre! Wir können unsere Forderungen aufstellen, aber ob wir dadurch eine wirkliche Erkenntnis erlangen, das hängt davon ab, ob die Natur in einer solchen Weise schafft. Und die neuere Wissenschaftsgesinnung konnte deshalb nicht an den Menschen herankommen, weil sie nicht berücksichtigt: Indem die Natur hinaufsteigt durch das Mineralreich, das Pflanzenreich, das tierische Reich bis zum Menschen, wird ihr Schaffen auf jeder Stufe so, daß man es nicht mehr mit bloßen logischen Begriffen, mit nüchternem Verstande erfassen kann, sondern daß man es immer künstlerischer und künstlerischer erfassen muß. Vieldeutig, mannigfaltig ist dasjenige, was zuletzt im Menschenwesen lebt. Und weil Geisteswissenschaft in ihrer Art wiederum die innere Harmonie sucht zwischen Erkenntnis, religiöser Vertiefung, künstlerischer Ausgestaltung, so gelangt sie auch dazu, dieses so rätselhafte aber so bewundernswerte menschliche Wesen, wie es sich hereinstellt in die Welt, in der richtigen Weise ins Auge zu fassen, ich meine ins Geistesauge.
Ich habe ja das letzte Mal ausgeführt, wie wir ganz wissenschaftlich hinschauen auf die Welt, in der dieses Menschenwesen war, bevor es durch die Empfängnis oder Geburt in das physische Dasein heruntersteigt. Ich habe darauf hingewiesen, wie mit mathematischer Klarheit sich vor anthroposophische Geisteswissenschaft hinstellt das GeistigSeelische, das aus geistigen Welten heruntersteigt und innerlich arbeitet an der physischen Menschengestalt, und nur die Materialien nimmt aus der Vererbungsströmung der Generationen.
Wenn man solche Dinge bespricht, wird man heute noch vielfach paradox genommen. Allein Geisteswissenschaft geht ja nicht anders vor als eigentlich die Naturwissenschaft selber. Nur daß die Naturwissenschaft auf ihren Gebieten im Laboratorium, in der Klinik, auf der Sternwarte in entsprechender Weise arbeitet, Geisteswissenschaft aber an das Menschenwesen herantritt, um dieses Menschenwesen so zu betrachten wie es der Naturforscher gewohnt ist auf seinen Gebieten; wo es allerdings wesentlich einfacher um die Dinge steht, wo es einfacher ist, zu beobachten und nach Gesetzen zu forschen.
Ich möchte zunächst darauf hinweisen, wie wir nach ganz naturwissenschaftlicher Gesinnung hinschauen können in das Werden des Menschen. Da muß allerdings Geisteswissenschaft aus ihren Voraussetzungen heraus ins Auge fassen die allmähliche Entwickelung des Menschen durch verschiedene Lebensepochen hindurch. Wir haben eine solche Lebensepoche, von der Geburt angefangen bis zum Zahnwechsel, so um das siebente Lebensjahr herum. Es könnte leicht scheinen, als ob irgendein Hang zur Mystik dazu zwänge, gerade um das siebente Jahr herum eine Art Sprung in der menschlichen Entwickelung anzuerkennen. Das ist aber nicht der Fall. Ebensowenig wie es irgendeinem mystischen Drang entspringt, sieben Farbennuancen im Regenbogen anzuerkennen, ebensowenig entspringen die Dinge, die ich nun ausführen werde, irgendeinem mystischen Hang, sondern sie entspringen einer objektiven, unbefangenen wissenschaftlichen Beobachtung des Menschenwesens. Zunächst physisch, kann sich der Mensch sagen, geht eine gewaltige Veränderung vor, indem der Mensch so um das siebente Jahr herum etwas aus sich heraustreibt, was später nicht mehr aus ihm herausgetrieben wird: die zweiten Zähne; eine Art von Abschluß ist damit erreicht. Aber ganz klar wird die Sache, wenn wir unsere Beobachtungen nicht beschränken auf den äußeren, physischen Organismus, sondern wenn wir dasjenige beobachten, was parallel geht diesem Entwickelungsstadium im physischen Organismus. Da sehen wir, wenn wir überhaupt beobachten können, wie das ganze Seelenleben des Kindes in dieser Zeit langsam anders wird. Wir sehen, wie das Kind, während es vorher verschwommene, verschwimmende Begriffe bildete, nachher allmählich übergeht, Begriffe mit schärferen Konturen zu bilden; wie überhaupt das Begriffebilden in diesem Lebensalter erst eintritt. Wir sehen ferner, wie das Kind eine ganz andere Art von Gedächtnis entwickelt. Es hat zwar oftmals vorher schon ein ausgezeichnetes Gedächtnis, aber das ist rein natürlich ausgebildet, ohne daß das Kind irgendwie eine Kraft aufzubringen braucht, um sich etwas zu merken. Jetzt muß es eine Kraft aufbringen, um sich die Dinge, die an es herantreten, wirklich zu merken, um sich an sie zu erinnern. Kurz, es zeigt sich, daß vom Zahnwechsel ab, um das siebente Jahr, dieses Kind dazu kommt, im Vorstellungsgemäßen, im Gedanklichen, im bewußt Willensgemäßen zu arbeiten. Was liegt da eigentlich vor? Sehen Sie, da liegt dieses vor: Dieselbe Kraft, die dann als geistig-seelische Kraft beobachtbar ist im Kinde, indem es Vorstellungen in scharfen Konturen bildet, indem es sich Gedanken bildet, diese Kraft, wo war sie denn vorher? Danach fragen die heutigen abstrakten Seelenforscher oder Psychologen nicht. Wenn der Physiker bei irgendeinem Vorgang sieht, wie Wärme entsteht, ohne daß man irgendwie eine Erwärmung vorgenommen hat, dann sagt er: In dem Körper war vorher latente Wärme, dann wird die Wärme frei. Er sucht dasjenige, was als Wärme frei wird, zuerst im Inneren des Körpers. Diese Denkweise muß auch angewendet werden auf das Leben des Menschen. Dasjenige, was seelisch-geistig nach dem siebenten Jahr beim Kinde auftritt, wo war es vorher? Es war im kindlichen Organismus latent; es war in dem organischen Wachsen, in der organischen Gliederung tätig bis zu dem Moment, wo gewissermaßen der Schlußpunkt dieser besonders in den ersten kindlichen Jahren auftretenden Wachstumsperiode mit dem Heraustreiben der zweiten Zähne erreicht ist.
Wir haben heute eine Seelenkunde, eine Psychologie, die ganz abstrakt ist. Die Leute denken nach, wie sich Leib und Seele zueinander verhalten. Sie kommen da zu den merkwürdigsten, phrasenhaftesten Hypothesen. Aus diesen phrasenhaften Hypothesen heraus kann man zu keiner pädagogischen Kunst kommen. Geisteswissenschaft zeigt, wie dasjenige, was wir nach dem siebenten Jahr seelisch an dem Kinde hervortreten sehen, vor dem siebenten Jahr, vor dem Zahnwechsel in dem Organismus drinnen tätig ist; wie das Seelische erst eine organische Kraft ist, die dann frei wird.
Und so beobachtet der wirkliche Geistesforscher das ganze menschliche Leben hindurch in konkreter Art. Ich will gleich auf etwas ganz Bestimmtes hinweisen, damit Sie die besondere Art dieser methodischen Betrachtungsweise erkennen lernen.
Wir können betrachten das kindliche Spiel. Derjenige, der unbefangenen Sinnes und mit vollem Anteil an der werdenden Menschennatur das spielende Kind beobachten kann, der weiß, daß, trotzdem Spiele typisch sind, doch jedes Kind auf seine individuelle Art spielt. Und man kann auch, wenn man Erzieher, Pädagoge ist, in einer gewissen Weise dieses Spiel leiten und lenken. Man kann es aus der Natur des Kindes heraus leiten und lenken. Man kann ihm auch, je nachdem man dazu fähig ist, eine vernünftige Richtung zu geben versuchen. Wenn man das alles beachtet, dann kann man die Kinder genau unterscheiden in so spielende und in anders spielende und so weiter. Dann kommt dasjenige Lebensalter, wo diese besondere Art, die sich im Spiel ausdrückt, beim Kinde nicht mehr so sichtbar ist. Das Kind betritt die Schule, andere Interessen erfüllen es. Es ist schon so, daß wir dann weniger bemerken können, was eigentlich die Folgen der besonderen Eigenart des Spielens sind. Derjenige, der nun nicht nur obenhin betrachtet, sondern der weiß, daß das Menschenleben eine Einheit ist, der daher seine Beobachtungen über das ganze Menschenleben ausdehnt, kann bemerken, wie so um das vierundzwanzigste, fünfundzwanzigste Jahr herum, in derjenigen Zeit, wo der Mensch seinen Anschluß an die Welt finden soll, wo er finden soll sein Sich-Hineinfügen in die Welt, der eine mehr oder weniger für die Lebenspraxis geschickter ist, der andere ungeschickter ist, wie der eine ein Träumer wird, der nichts Praktisches geschickt anfassen kann, der andere jede Einzelheit mit besonderer Geschicklichkeit anfaßt. Die Art und Weise, wie man sich da geschickt oder ungeschickt ins Leben hineinfindet in den Zwanzigerjahren, die ist ein unmittelbares Ergebnis der spielenden Tätigkeit des Kindes. Es gibt gewisse Flüsse, die erscheinen aus ihrer Quelle, verschwinden dann unter der Erdoberfläche und treten später wieder hervor an einem anderen Ort. So sind die Fähigkeiten im Menschenleben. Die Fähigkeit, die beim Kinde im Spiel besonders zum Vorschein kommt, wirkt in den ersten Lebensjahren, dann verschwindet sie in den Untergrund der Seele und kommt wiederum hervor in den Zwanzigerjahren in der Art und Weise, wie der Mensch sich in das Leben hineinfindet. Bedenken Sie, in der Art und Weise, wie wir das Spiel des Kindes erzieherisch leiten, greifen wir ein in Glück oder Unglück, in das Schicksal des Menschen in seinen Zwanzigerlebensjahren.
Dasjenige, was man nennen könnte Verantwortung gegenüber Erziehung und Unterricht, es wird in ungeheurer Weise geschärft dadurch, daß man solchen Erkenntnissen nahe tritt. Aber zu gleicher Zeit wird dadurch auch angeregt eine wirkliche Erziehungs- und Unterrichtskunst. Denn nicht engmaschige Begriffe können an den Menschen heranreichen, sondern nur ein weites Schauen, welches gewonnen wird durch solche Zusammenhänge in der menschlichen Natur. Da finden wir, daß wir in der Tat Epochen, Etappen in der menschlichen Entwikkelung unterscheiden müssen. Die erste Etappe geht von der Geburt bis zum Zahnwechsel; sie trägt ein ganz besonderes Gepräge.
Hier möchte ich noch erwähnen, daß derjenige, der aus anthroposophisch orientierter Geisteswissenschaft heraus zum Lehrer oder Erzieher wird, durchaus von dem Bewußtsein durchdrungen ist: In demjenigen, was uns so wunderbar, so rätselvoll in dem werdenden Menschen, dem Kinde entgegentritt, ist eigentlich eine Botschaft der geistigen Welt enthalten. Wir schauen das Kind an, wie es zuerst seine unbestimmten Züge hat, wie diese aber bestimmter werden; wie es besonders auch in seinen Bewegungen und seinen Lebensregungen zunächst unbestimmt ist, und wie immer mehr und mehr aus den Tiefen der Seele heraus Bestimmtheit in diese Lebensregungen kommt. Derjenige, der zum Lehrer und Erzieher aus anthroposophisch orientierter Geisteswissenschaft heraus vorbereitet ist, der ist sich bewußt: In dem, was da von Tag zu Tag, von Woche zu Woche, von Jahr zu Jahr sich in dem Antlitz des Kindes immer mehr und mehr zur deutlichen Physiognomie umprägt, in dem, was durch die Regsamkeit der Hände hindurchwirkt, in dem, was in die Sprache hinein sich zaubert, in dem lebt dasjenige, was aus geistigen Welten heruntersteigt, Und daß man erkennen lernt diese Tätigkeit in der geistigen Welt, die ganz anders geartet ist als die in der physischen Welt, daß man mit dieser Gesinnung, mit dieser Empfindung als Erzieher dem Kinde gegenübertritt, das heißt, ein Heil in dem Erzieherberufe sehen; das heißt, in dem Erzieherberufe etwas sehen, was sich etwa mit den Worten umschreiben läßt: Mir ist aus den geistigen Welten heraus eine Menschenwesenheit gegeben; ich habe ihre Rätsel mit zu lösen; ich habe ihr Wege ins Leben hineinzuweisen durch eine wirkliche Menschenerkenntnis-Kunst.
Diese Menschenerkenntnis-Kunst aber zeigt, daß der Mensch in der ersten Epoche seines Lebens das ist, was ich nennen möchte: ein nachahmendes Wesen. Ich habe diese besondere Eigentümlichkeit des werdenden Menschen in meiner kleinen Schrift «Die Erziehung des Kindes vom Gesichtspunkte der Geisteswissenschaft» besonders dargestellt. Indem der Mensch aus der geistigen Welt in die physische Welt tritt, gelangt er ja dazu, dasjenige, was er zuletzt in der geistigen Welt erlebt hat, wie in einem Nachklang in der physischen Welt zum Ausdruck zu bringen. Wenn wir als Anthroposoph das Kind erziehen, so sagen wir uns allerdings, es ist kindlich primitiv, wie das Kind seinem Triebe nach dasjenige nachahmt, was in seiner Umgebung vorgeht; es bildet in seinen Bewegungen dasjenige nach, was ihm vorgemacht wird. Die Sprache lernt es ja nur durch Nachahmung, nicht durch etwas anderes. Aber auch dasjenige, was in seiner Umgebung in moralischer, in sonstiger Beziehung durch die Eltern oder durch andere, in seiner Nähe befindliche Menschen vorgeht, das ahmt das Kind in der Zeit bis zum Zahnwechsel nach. Da liegt etwas vor, was sich nur durch Geisteswissenschaft begreifen läßt. Das Kind war ja, bevor es empfangen oder geboren wurde, in der geistigen Welt; in der geistigen Welt, die man, wie ich das das letzte Mal dargelegt habe, durch die Ausbildung der besonderen Kraft der Erinnerungsfähigkeit und durch die Entwickelung der Liebekraft erkennt. In dieser geistigen Welt ist jedes Wesen so drinnen, daß es nicht außen von anderen Wesen steht, sondern daß es sich in jedes andere Wesen objektiv liebevoll hinüberleben kann. Dieses Stehen in der Welt, das bringt das Kind mit wie in einem Nachklang, und wir beobachten dann, wie das Kind ein nachahmendes Wesen wird, wie es alles, was es lernt, was es sich aneignet in den ersten sieben Lebensjahren, als nachahmendes Wesen sich aneignet. Und wir müssen bei einer richtigen pädagogischen Kunst auf dieses Prinzip der Nachahmung besonders hinschauen. In dieser Beziehung gibt man sich mancher Täuschung hin. Zunächst möchte ich als Beispiel eine solche Täuschung erwähnen, deren ich Hunderte anführen könnte. Es kam einmal der Vater eines etwa fünfjährigen Knaben zu mir und sagte, er habe rechtes Unglück mit seinem Kinde, sein Kind habe gestohlen. Ich sagte: Nun, das wollen wir doch erst untersuchen, ob das Kind wirklich gestohlen hat. Der Vater sagte: Ja, der Junge hat Geld genommen aus der Schublade, wo das Geld der Mutter ist; er hat für das Geld Näschereien gekauft und sie unter andere Kinder auf der Straße verteilt. - Ich frug: Was geschieht denn sonst mit dem Geld, das in der Schublade ist? - Der Vater sagte: Da nimmt die Mutter für den Hausgebrauch jeden Morgen das Nötige heraus. - Da sagte ich dem Vater: Dann hat das Kind auch nicht gestohlen. Das Kind ist fünf Jahre alt, also im vollsten Sinne noch ein nachahmendes Wesen. Etwas ist für das Kind richtig und gut zu tun, was es in seiner Umgebung tun sieht; die Mutter tut das täglich, also tut es das auch einmal. Das ist nicht gestohlen, sondern das entspricht demjenigen, was das Grundprinzip der Entwickelung in den ersten sieben Lebensjahren des Menschen ist.
Sehen Sie, diese Dinge muß der wirkliche Erzieher wissen. In den ersten sieben Lebensjahren kann man nicht durch Ermahnungen, nicht durch irgendwelche Gebote das Kind lenken und leiten; sondern man lenkt und leitet das Kind durch dasjenige, was man selber tut. Aber es gibt im Menschenwesen geradeso wie in der Natur Imponderabilien. Nicht nur durch dasjenige lenkt und leitet man das Kind, was man selber tut, sondern auch durch dasjenige, was man selber empfindet, was man selber denkt. Ist man ein Mensch, der sich nicht gestattet, gemeine und kleinliche Vorstellungen und Empfindungen in sich zu haben in der Nähe seiner Kinder, dann wird aus den Kindern auch etwas Edles, etwas Gutes. Gestattet man sich neben den Kindern - weil man denkt, es ist doch die menschliche Organisation da, und es wirkt nicht hinüber -, gestattet man sich unedle Gedanken, unedle Empfindungen, sie wirken hinüber. Es gibt Imponderabilien auf diesem Gebiet.
Diese Imponderabilien zeigen sich auch in der zweiten Lebensepoche, die nun nach dem Zahnwechsel beginnt und bis zur Geschlechtsreife dauert, um das vierzehnte Jahr herum. In dieser Lebensepoche betritt ja das Kind die Schule. Wir mußten ganz besonders den Übergang studieren von der einen Lebensepoche, von der nachahmenden, zu dieser zweiten Lebensepoche, vom Zahnwechsel bis zur Geschlechtsreife, indem begründet werden mußte eine richtige geisteswissenschaftliche und geisteskünstlerische Pädagogik für die von Emil Molt in Stuttgart gegründete und von mir geleitete Waldorfschule. An dieser Waldorfschule soll ja so unterrichtet und erzogen werden, wie es durchaus sich ergibt aus anthroposophisch orientierter Geisteswissenschaft. Da soll die Erziehung und der Unterricht gehandhabt werden als eine wirkliche Kunst, aus wahrer Menschenerkenntnis heraus. Deshalb, weil man um die Zeit, wo der Mensch aus einem nachahmenden Wesen ein anderes Wesen wird, was ich gleich noch charakterisieren will, das Kind in die Schule übernimmt, mußte man diese Zeit des Überganges besonders studieren.
In dieser zweiten Lebensepoche bis zur Geschlechtsreife hin ist es nicht mehr das bloße Nachahmen, welches die Fähigkeiten, die ganze Wesenheit des Kindes heranbildet; da tritt aus der Tiefe der kindlichen Seele heraus ein anderer Trieb. Es ist der Trieb: Es will in seinem Lehrer und Erzieher eine selbstverständliche Autorität neben sich haben. Sehen Sie, heute, wo man alles demokratisieren will, heute fordert man leicht, daß schon in der Schule demokratisiert werde. Einige wollen sogar den Unterschied zwischen dem Lehrer und dem zu Erziehenden abschaffen in den Gemeinschaftsschulen, und wie diese schönen Dinge alle heißen. Das ist aus Parteianschauungen heraus, das ist nicht aus einer Erkenntnis der menschlichen Natur und Wesenheit heraus. Nicht weil man diese oder jene Parteirichtung hat, soll man in diesen Dingen urteilen, sondern aus der Sache selbst heraus soll man urteilen. Und da zeigt sich, daß einfach vom Zahnwechsel bis zur Geschlechtsreife der Mensch in sich den Trieb hat, nun nicht bloß nachzuahmen die Umgebung, sondern zu hören von einem geliebten, als Autorität selbstverständlich anerkannten Wesen, was gut und böse, was richtig und unrichtig ist. Wohl dem Menschen, der durch das ganze Leben hindurch sich zurückerinnern kann an solche selbstverständliche Autoritäten, die neben ihm gestanden haben. Wohl dem Menschen, der sich sagen kann: Ich hatte einen Erzieher; wenn ich zu ihm kam, war es so, daß ich schon Scheu hatte, nur die Türklinke aufzumachen zu seinem Zimmer, so selbstverständlich erschien es mir, daß er eine Quelle des Wahren und des Guten sei. - Es handelt sich gar nicht darum, über diese Dinge in sozialer oder sonstiger Beziehung zu diskutieren, sondern es handelt sich darum, die menschliche Natur kennenzulernen und sich zu sagen: So wie die besondere Artung des Spieltriebes in den Zwanzigerjahren in dem geschickten oder ungeschickten Sich-ins-Leben-Hineinstellen zum Vorschein kommt, so kommt gerade in der Zeit, in der Freiheitsempfindung, Freiheitsgefühl die Grundnuance des sozialen Zusammenlebens sein muß, das richtige Freiheitsgefühl, die richtige Freiheitsempfindung dadurch zustande, daß der richtige Autoritätsglaube ungefähr vom siebenten bis zum fünfzehnten Jahr im Kinde voll zur Entfaltung gekommen ist. Niemand kann im wirklichen Sinne des Wortes später frei werden, der nicht in dieser Weise an Autoritäten sich herangebildet hat; geradesowenig wie jemand zu sozialer Menschenliebe später getrieben werden kann, der nicht durch den Nachahmungstrieb das Anschmiegen an seine Umgebung einmal durchgemacht hat. Wir haben später nicht dieses Anschmiegen, aber wir brauchen soziale Gefühle. Die hängen davon ab, wie der wirkliche Erzieher und Unterrichter in den ersten sieben Lebensjahren vom Kinde sein eigenes Wesen nachahmen läßt. Wir brauchen Menschen, die sich mit einer echten Freiheitsempfindung heute ins Leben hineinstellen sollen. Das sind aber diejenigen, denen man gegenübergestanden hat als Erzieher und Unterrichter vom Zahnwechsel bis zur Geschlechtsreife so, daß man eine selbstverständliche Autorität war.
Wer wie ich bereits im Jahre 1892 mit meiner «Philosophie der Freiheit» in der Freiheitsempfindung, in dem Freiheitsgefühl die grundsätzliche soziale Tatsache hingestellt hat, der wird ganz gewiß nicht gegen Freiheit und Demokratie sprechen; aber gerade weil er für sie sprechen will, muß er anerkennen, daß Erziehungskunst die Autorität braucht für die Lebenszeit, die vom Zahnwechsel bis zur Geschlechtsreife verläuft. - Außerdem ist das dann noch die Zeit, in der sich das Kind allmählich aus dem bildhaften Vorstellen in das mehr verstandesmäßige, intellektualistische Vorstellen hineinarbeiten muß. Das geht über einen gewissen wichtigen Zeitpunkt im Leben hinweg.
Sehen Sie, solche Dinge im Leben, die muß eine wirkliche Erziehungskunst, eine wirkliche Didaktik durchschauen.
Ungefähr um das neunte Jahr herum - es kann bis zum zehnten, ja bis zum elften Jahr dauern - ist für das Kind ein außerordentlich wichtiger Abschnitt seiner Entwickelung. Wenn wir das Kind in der Schule haben, machen wir mit ihm, es lenkend und leitend als Lehrer und Erzieher, diesen Zeitpunkt mit. In den ersten Kindesjahren lernt das Kind die Sprache; es lernt allmählich zu sich «ich» sagen. Aber diese Unterscheidung des eigenen Ich von der Umgebung ist noch etwas Unbestimmtes bis zum neunten Jahr hin. Wer wirklich das Leben beobachten kann, der weiß, daß das Kind da einen Rubikon überschreitet, daß es da zwischen dem neunten und ungefähr elften Lebensjahr sich eigentlich erst unterscheiden lernt von seiner Umgebung. Wie man an dem Zeitpunkt des Lebens, der für das eine Kind früher, für das andere später, aber doch innerhalb des charakterisierten Zeitabschnittes durchgemacht wird, sich zu dem Kinde verhält, davon hängt ungeheuer viel für das ganze folgende Leben des Kindes ab. Hat man ein Gefühl, eine Empfindung: da vollzieht das Kind seine eigentliche Unterscheidung von der äußeren Natur; es fühlt sich nicht mehr wie der Finger sich am Organismus fühlen würde, wenn er bewußt wäre, es fühlt sich jetzt als selbständiges Wesen — kann man sich da in der richtigen Weise einstellen, dann erzeugt man in dem Kinde einen Quell fortdauernder Lebensfreude und Lebensfrische. Dagegen kultiviert man Lebensöde und Lebensverdrossenheit, wenn man an diesem Zeitpunkte sich dem Kinde gegenüber nicht richtig einstellt. Es ist zu berücksichtigen, daß bis zu diesem Zeitpunkte hin das Kind vom Bilde ausgeht, von dem, womit seine eigene Natur verwandt ist. Diese Natur unterscheidet sich noch nicht von der Umgebung, sie geht noch auf in der Umgebung. Man muß berücksichtigen, daß man von dem ausgehen muß, was bildhaft ergriffen wird als Zusammenhang des Menschen mit der Umgebung.
Wir bekommen die Kinder herein aus dem Elternhaus in die Schule. Heute leben wir in einem Zeitalter, wo unser Schreiben und Lesen bereits konventionelle Zeichen hervorgebracht hat, die in keiner unmittelbaren, inneren Beziehung zum Menschen stehen. Vergleichen Sie die abstrakten Buchstaben unserer Schrift mit demjenigen, was in älteren Zeiten die Menschheit als Bilderschrift gehabt hat. Da wurde noch dasjenige fixiert in der Schrift, was man wirklich vorstellte. Heute ist die Schrift abstrakt geworden. Bringen wir diese abstrakte Schrift unmiittelbar an das Kind heran im Lesen und Schreiben, so bringen wir etwas Fremdes an das Kind heran, etwas was jedenfalls nicht für das sechste, siebente oder achte Jahr taugt. Daher erfolgt bei uns in der Waldorfschule der Unterricht in einer anderen Weise. Wir beginnen überhaupt nicht mit den abstrakten Buchstaben im Lesen und Schreiben, sondern wir arbeiten aus dem Künstlerischen heraus. Wir lassen das Kind zunächst sogar malen und zeichnen, mit Farben arbeiten, in Formen arbeiten. Da wird nicht bloß der Kopf beschäftigt, was eine große Schädlichkeit wäre für das Kind, sondern da wird der ganze Mensch beim Kinde beschäftigt. Aus diesen Formen, die sogar farbig sind, lassen wir dann die Buchstaben entstehen. Dadurch lernt das Kind schreiben, und nach dem Schreiben lernt es erst lesen, da ja unsere Lesebuchstaben noch abstrakter sind als unsere Schreibbuchstaben. So entwickeln wir aus dem Künstlerischen heraus, das dem Leben nahesteht, das abstrakte Element, das wir heute auch brauchen. - Ähnlich machen wir es auch mit anderen Gegenständen. Dadurch erlangen wir eine lebensvolle, kunstartige Pädagogik; dadurch kommen wir wirklich an die Seele des Kindes heran. Was wir im gewöhnlichen Leben Begreifen von Pflanze oder Stein und dergleichen nennen, das kann erst nach dem Zeitpunkte beim Kinde eintreten, den ich eben charakterisiert habe, in dem sich das Kind von seiner Umgebung unterscheiden lernt.
Vielleicht lernt manches Kind in unserer Waldorfschule später lesen und später schreiben als an anderen Schulen. Das ist kein Nachteil, das ist im Gegenteil ein großer Vorteil; denn man kann dem Kinde das abstrakte Lesen und Schreiben eintrichtern, und man kann dabei nicht nur etwa das Herplappern desjenigen entwickeln, worauf die Augen fallen, sondern man kann auch etwas ertöten, und was man im kindlichen Lebensalter ertötet, ist für das ganze menschliche Dasein zwischen Geburt und Tod ertötet. Was wir lebensfähig lassen und lebensfähig machen, ist dasjenige, was im Menschen das ganze Leben hindurch als Frisches, Blühendes da sein soll, und das zu entwickeln ist die Aufgabe eines wirklichen Erziehers.
Sie werden immer ‚gehört haben, daß ja auch die Pädagogik des 19. Jahrhunderts vielfach betont hat, man solle aus der Individualität des Kindes heraus entwickeln; man soll nicht etwa bloß in das Kind hineinpfropfen wollen, sondern man solle dasjenige, was im Kinde veranlagt ist, aus dem Kinde herausholen. Gewiß, auch die Pädagogik hat große Genien, das soll nicht geleugnet werden; vieles ist schon auf dem Gebiete der wissenschaftlichen Pädagogik ausgesprochen worden. Allein wenn man noch so oft den abstrakten Satz und alles dasjenige Abstrakte, was sonst schon gesagt worden ist, vor sich hinstellt, das Kind solle als Individualität entwickelt werden - man hat ja erst etwas davon, wenn man nun konkret von Tag zu Tag beobachten kann, wie diese kindliche Individualität sich entfaltet; wenn man weiß, wie das Nachahmungsprinzip in den ersten sieben Lebensjahren herrscht, wie in der nächsten Lebensepoche vom siebenten bis vierzehnten Lebensjahr das Autoritätsprinzip vorherrscht in Verbindung mit demjenigen Prinzip des Überganges vom bildlich-symbolischen, gedächtnismäßigen Vorstellen zu dem Vorstellen aus dem Intellekt heraus, aus dem Begriff heraus, das dann im elften, zwölften Jahr eintritt. Wenn man das alles beobachten kann, wenn man aus geisteswissenschaftlich-künstlerischer Weltbeobachtung lernt, wie man das befolgen soll, dann ist mehr erreicht, als was man da durch abstrakte Forderung aufstellen kann, man soll das Kind aus seiner Individualität heraus entwickeln. - Anthroposophisch orientierte Geisteswissenschaft stellt keine Abstraktionen, keine bloßen Forderungen hin, sondern sie sieht darauf hin, was durch den Geist, durch den allseitig geschärften Beobachtungssinn sich zur Kunst ausbilden kann, wie ich das auch das letzte Mal geschildert habe.
Ich konnte nur in einzelnen Zügen dasjenige charakterisieren, was aus anthroposophisch orientierter Geisteswissenschaft als Menschenerkenntnis hervorgehen und die Grundlage bilden kann für diejenige Lebenspraxis, die sich in Erziehung und Unterricht auslebt. Die großen sozialen Forderungen der Gegenwart zeigen uns, daß wir so etwas brauchen. Geisteswissenschaft leitet überall von der bloßen unwirklichkeitsgemäßen Erfassung des äußeren Lebens zu der konkreten Wirklichkeit hin, indem sie zu dem äußeren Materiellen auch das ÜbersinnlichGeistige fügt. Dadurch aber wird der Mensch überall in den Mittelpunkt des Weltenwesens hineingestellt, sowohl in realer Betrachtung wie auch im Wirken. Und das ist notwendig. Das will ich noch erhärten an einem Beispiel der Erziehungskunst. Ich möchte etwas Charakteristisches anführen: Denken Sie sich, wir wollen einem Kinde einfache religiöse Vorstellungen beibringen, zum Beispiel eine solche von der Unsterblichkeit der Seele. Wir können, wenn wir dieses dem Kinde vor dem neunten, zehnten Jahr beibringen wollen, aus dem Bildlichen herausarbeiten. Wir müssen dem Kinde zum Beispiel sagen: Sieh dir einmal die Schmetterlingspuppe an; da bricht die Umhüllung durch, der Schmetterling flattert heraus in die Luft. So ist es auch mit dem Menschen. Die unsterbliche Seele wohnt im physischen Leibe. Der Tod zerbricht diesen Leib. Die unsterbliche Seele ist dem Schmetterling vergleichbar, nur unsichtbar flattert sie aus dem physischen Leibe in die übersinnliche Welt hinein, wie der Schmetterling aus der Puppe in die Luft fliegt. Sehen Sie, wenn man solch eine Sache gerade mit Rücksicht auf lebendige Erziehungskunst studiert, so kommt man auf die Imponderabilien des Lebens. Ich kann als Lehrer oder Erzieher mir sagen: Ich bin sehr gescheit, ich bin alt geworden; das Kind ist noch jung, es ist sehr dumm. Also denke ich mir einen solchen Vergleich von Puppe und Schmetterling aus. Ich mache dem Kinde an dem, was ich selber nicht glaube, was ich selber für eine Dummheit ansehe, etwas vor als gescheiter Mensch, damit es die Unsterblichkeit der Seele begreift. - Viel wird man nicht damit erreichen. In einem materialistischen Zeitalter erscheint das als paradox, aber wahr ist es doch: viel wird man damit nicht erreichen. Indem der anthroposophisch orientierte Geistesforscher die Sache anschaut, wird sie etwas anderes. Der glaubt selber an das, was er als Bild hinstellt. Er sagt nicht: Ich bin der Gescheite und mache dem Kinde etwas vor —, sondern er sagt: Die ewigen Wesenheiten und Mächte, die als Geistiges in der Natur wirken, haben im Schmetterling ganz objektiv das Bild des unsterblichen Menschen hingestellt. Und indem ich selber mit jeder Faser meines Wesens glaube an dieses Bild, und von diesem meinem Glauben aus zu dem Kinde spreche, erwecke ich im Kinde eine wirklich religiöse Vorstellung. - Nicht darauf kommt es an, was ich dem Kindesage, sondern wie ich selbst bin, wie ich selbst zu den Dingen stehe. Das wird immer mehr und mehr in die Erziehungskunst hereinkommen.
Und in solcher Weise müssen Sie es auch verstehen, wenn ich sage: In die Waldorfschule kommen manche Menschen, um sie anzuschauen, um einmal an einer Reihe von Unterrichtsstunden teilzunehmen und dergleichen. Das ist gerade so, wie wenn Sie aus einem Gemälde von Rembrandt ein Stück herausschneiden wollten und glaubten, daraus könne man eine Vorstellung bekommen von dem ganzen Gemälde. Das kann man niemals, wenn etwas so als ein Ganzes gedacht und aufgebaut ist, wie es die Waldorfschule ist, wenn etwas so herausgegliedert ist aus dem Ganzen der anthroposophisch orientierten Geisteswissenschaft. — Welche Lehrer sind da zu brauchen? Diejenigen, die ihr ganzes Leben aus jener Geist-Erkenntnis geformt haben, von der ich das letzte Mal hier gesprochen habe. Die beste Art, die Waldorfschule kennenzulernen, die beste Art, die Pädagogik der Waldorfschule kennenzulernen, ist, anthroposophisch orientierte Geisteswissenschaft kennenzulernen zunächst. Denn sich die Dinge anzuschauen und in der Waldorfschule hospitieren zu wollen, dadurch wird man von der Waldorfschule nicht viel erfahren können.
Diese Dinge müssen schon ausgesprochen werden, weil sie zeigen, wie jener neue Geist beschaffen sein muß, der gerade in das praktische Leben von dem Geiste der Dornacher Freien Hochschule für Geisteswissenschaft aus in das soziale, in das künstlerische, in das erzieherische Leben, in die ganze Lebenspraxis hineinkommen soll.
Nun werden Sie, wenn Sie dieses durchdenken, es nicht mehr sonderbar finden, daß derjenige, der sich in ein solches Geistesleben, wie es dieser Erziehungskunst zugrunde liegt, vertieft, in der Tat auf den Boden eines freien Geisteslebens sich stellen muß. Was wir heute im Geistesleben drinnen haben, ist ein gewisser Zug der Abstraktion, es ist ein gewisser Zug zum Programmäßigen; ein Zug, der dem Geistesleben aufgedrückt worden ist dadurch, daß das Geistesleben in der neueren Zeit abhängig geworden ist vom Staatsleben auf der einen Seite, vom Wirtschaftsleben auf der anderen Seite. Dasjenige, was zunächst durch die Weltanschauung, über die ich hier spreche, gefordert werden muß, das ist ein auf sich selbst gestelltes Geistesleben. Dieses Geistesleben würde das erste Glied in dem sein, was ich in meinem Buche «Die Kernpunkte der sozialen Frage» den dreigliedrigen sozialen Organismus genannt habe. Was für das Geistesleben gefordert werden muß, was nicht utopistisch ist, sondern was jeden Tag in Angriff genommen werden kann zu erfüllen, das ist, daß derjenige, der im wirklichen Geistesleben, das heißt, gerade im wichtigsten, öffentlichen Teil des Geisteslebens, im Unterricht und in der Erziehung drinnensteht, zu gleicher Zeit im umfassenden Sinne der Verwalter dieses Geisteslebens ist. Im Unterrichts- und Erziehungswesen soll derjenige, der in lebendiger Tätigkeit drinnensteht, nur so viele Stunden im Unterricht und in der Erziehung zu tun haben, daß ihm noch Zeit übrigbleibt, mit den anderen zusammen, in kleineren oder größeren Korporationen das Unterrichts- und Erziehungswesen auch zu verwalten. Nicht diejenigen, die aus dem Erziehungs- und Unterrichtswesen herausgenommen und in Staatsstellen hineingestellt werden oder die pensioniert sind, sondern diejenigen, die im lebendigen Unterrichten drinnenstehen, sind allein berufen, auch die Verwaltung des Unterrichtswesens als solchem zu besorgen. Denn das, was im Unterrichtswesen, überhaupt im Geistesleben verwaltet wird, darf nur die Fortsetzung desjenigen sein, was auch gelehrt wird, was den Inhalt eines jeden Wortes, einer jeden Tat in der Klasse bildet. Da dürfen nicht von außen her, vom Staate oder vom Wirtschaftsleben her, Vorschriften erfließen. Autonomie, Selbstverwaltung des geistigen Lebens ist notwendig.
Ich weiß es gut, wer bloß leichtgeschürzte, logische Begriffe formen will, oder wer sich auf den Boden einer oberflächlich historischen Betrachtungsweise stellt, der wird mancherlei einzuwenden haben, denn man muß wirklich in der ganzen Natur des Geisteslebens drinnenstehen, um die Notwendigkeit der Befreiung dieses Geisteslebens als eines selbständigen Gliedes des sozialen Organismus zu erkennen. Wer wie ich jahrelang Lehrer gerade an einer Proletarierschule war - an derjenigen, die von Wilhelm Liebknecht begründet war -, wer das Proletarierleben, die in ihm lebende Form der sozialen Frage kennengelernt hat, der weiß, daß diese soziale Frage nicht bloß eine Frage äußerer Einrichtungen, nicht bloß eine Frage der Unzufriedenheit mit äußeren Einrichtungen ist, der weiß etwas ganz anderes. Der weiß, daß ein Wort, welches immer wieder und wiederum angetroffen wird innerhalb des proletarischen Lebens, aber weit über dasselbe hinausgehend, das Wort «Ideologie» ist, in der Deutung, wie ich es im ersten Kapitel meiner «Kernpunkte der sozialen Frage» auseinandergesetzt habe. Was ist hinter diesem Wort Ideologie verborgen?
Nun, einstmals im alten Orient sprach man von der großen Illusion, von Maja. Man verstand darunter die äußere Sinneswelt, die uns nur ein Scheingebilde liefert, nach alter orientalischer Anschauung, die heute im Orient schon in Dekadenz gekommen und für uns nicht brauchbar ist. Das wahre Wirkliche, dasjenige Wirkliche, das den Menschen voll trägt, war für die alten orientalischen Weisen dasjenige, was in der Seele sich heranentwickelt, was in der Seele lebt; was die äußeren Sinne schauen, das war nur Maja.
Wir leben heute in einem Zeitalter, wo sich gerade die radikalsten Weltanschauungen zur Umkehrung dieses Gesichtspunktes bekennen. Heute gilt in weitesten Kreisen das äußere Naturhafte oder das Materielle, das in den Produktionsprozessen Lebende, als die einzige Wirklichkeit, und Maja ist dasjenige, was im Inneren der Menschenseele als Sitte, als Religion, als Kunst, als Wissenschaft aufgeht. Will man das orientalische Wort Maja in der richtigen Weise übersetzen, so muß man sagen: Ideologie. Alle anderen Übersetzungen sind für unsere modernen Menschen nicht zutreffend. Aber Ideologie bezieht sich gerade auf das Umgekehrte von dem, was die Maja für den alten Orientalen war. Maja nennt heute der weiteste Umkreis der modernen Bevölkerung dasjenige, was der alte Orientale die einzige Wirklichkeit genannt hat. Und das hat eine wichtige Bedeutung für das Leben.
Ich habe sie kennengelernt, solche Menschen, welche aus den führenden Klassen heraus unter dem Einfluß einer Weltanschauung lebten, die zu einer solchen Ideologie kam. Menschen habe ich kennengelernt, die sich sagten: Die Naturwissenschaft, wenn wir ihr vertrauen müssen, leitet die ganze Entstehung des Kosmos auf einen Urnebel zurück. Da sind die verschiedenen Wesen der Natur entstanden. Auch der Mensch hat sich da herausgeballt. Indem er sich herausballte, entwickelte er etwas in seiner Seele wie eine große Illusion, wie Seifenblasen. Die Naturwissenschaft zeigt uns keine Realität desjenigen, was als Sitte, als Religion, als Wissenschaft, als Kunst aus der Seele des Menschen aufsteigt. Und schaut man wiederum hin auf das Ende der Erdenentwickelung, dann bietet sich dem Aspekt der große Kirchhof dar. Auf der Erde erfolgt Vereisung oder der Wärmetod, jedenfalls der große Kirchhof für die Ideale, für dasjenige, was wir als das eigentliche Menschenwerte, als das Wichtigste und Wesentlichste im Menschen betrachten. Da ist nur ein Verschwinden des Daseins, wenn wir der Naturwissenschaft ehrlich vertrauen wollen.
Ich habe die ganze Tragik, den ganzen Schmerz bei solchen materialistisch gesinnten Seelen der führenden Menschheit der modernen Zeit sehen können, die nicht entkommen konnten der Lebenslage, ernst zu nehmen die naturwissenschaftlichen Folgerungen, und die deshalb alles dasjenige, was dem Menschen als sein Inneres seinen größten Wert gibt, für Illusion genommen haben. Ich habe jenen Pessimismus, der aus einer wirklich ehrlichen Verfolgung naturwissenschaftlicher Weltgesinnung entspringt, bei vielen Menschen kennengelernt.
Diese Anschauung aber hat ihre besondere Gestaltung gefunden in dem Materialismus der modernen Arbeiterschaft. Da gilt alles dasjenige, was Geistiges ist, als Überbau, als ein Rauch, ein Dunst, als Ideologie. Und das, was dadurch als Seelenverfassung in den modernen Menschen hineinkommt — wenn man auch immer anderes erfindet und anderes hinstellt, wodurch man sich selber täuscht -, das ist der eigentliche Ursprung des modernen antisozialen Empfindens; das ist der eigentliche Ursprung jener furchtbaren Katastrophen, die für die meisten Menschen noch ungeahnt heraufdämmern im ganzen Osten, die in Rußland zunächst beginnen, und die heute schon sehr verheerende Dimensionen angenommen haben, die aber noch größere Dimensionen annehmen werden, wenn man sich nicht entschließen wird, an die Stelle einer Ideologie eine lebendige Erfassung des Geistes zu setzen.
Anthroposophisch orientierte Geisteswissenschaft gibt uns nicht bloß Ideen und Begriffe über ein Wirkliches, sondern sie gibt uns auch Ideen und Begriffe, durch die wir wissen: Wir denken nicht nur über etwas Geist-Erfülltes - lebendigen Geist, nicht bloß gedachten Geist gibt uns Geisteswissenschaft. Sie zeigt den Menschen so, daß ihn lebendiger Geist erfüllt. Wie die alten Religionen ihm lebendigen Geist gegeben haben, wie sie ihm nicht gesagt haben: Du sollst nur etwas wissen -, sondern wie sie ihm gesagt haben: Du sollst etwas wissen, wodurch die göttliche Wissenschaft in dir lebt. Wie dein Blut in dir pulst, so pulsieren göttliche Kräfte durch ein wirkliches Wissen in dir. - Solch ein Wissen, solch ein Geistesleben will anthroposophische Geisteswissenschaft, wie sie in Dornach vertreten wird, der Menschheit überliefern.
Aber sie braucht die Unterstützung der Menschen der Gegenwart. Man wird nicht dadurch etwas erreichen, daß man im Kleinen auf diesem Boden wirkt, man braucht ein Wirken im Großen. Geisteswissenschaft hat nichts Sektiererisches in sich; sie will die großen Aufgaben der Gegenwart auch im praktischen Leben erfassen. Aber sie braucht dazu das lebendige Verständnis der Zeitgenossenschaft. Es genügt nicht, daß man da oder dort nach dem Muster der Waldorfschule Winkelschulen errichtet, wie so manche wollen. Nicht darauf kommt es an, denn dadurch wird unser Geistesleben nicht freier.
Ich habe oftmals zu meinem großen Schmerz erleben müssen, wie die Menschen ein gewisses Mißtrauen hatten gegen die gewöhnliche, materialistische Medizin. Dann wollen sie zu einem kommen und zur Kurpfuscherei verleiten. Durch Hintertüren sozusagen wollen sie geheilt werden. Ich habe das bis zum Abstoßenden erfahren; habe erfahren, daß ein preußischer Minister vor seinem Parlament die materialistische Medizin vertreten hat, der er die einzige Autorität zugeschrieben hat; dann ist er aber selber durch Hintertüren gekommen, und hat sich von allen möglichen Leuten kurieren lassen wollen, die er aufs heftigste bekämpft hatte im Parlament.
Diejenige Gesellschaft, die von einer gewissen Seite aus mit Recht als opferwillig bezeichnet werden kann, die sich der Pflege anthroposophischer Geisteswissenschaft gewidmet hat, sie strebt nach einem durchgreifenden Impuls, der bis ins große Volle zu wirken vermag. Heute handelt es sich um nichts Geringeres, als daß ein wirkliches Geistesleben, wie es die moderne Menschheit braucht, nur geschaffen werden kann dadurch, daß zunächst die Interessenten für das Geistesleben - und das sind im Grunde genommen alle Menschen, zum Teil haben die Menschen auch Kinder -, ein Geistesleben brauchen, das die Kinder für die Zukunft zu freien Menschen macht, die ein menschenwürdiges Dasein sich schaffen. Jeder Mensch ist ein Interessent für das Geistesleben und muß mitarbeiten an demjenigen, was die Zukunft bringen soll durch das Geistesleben. In weitesten Kreisen sollte das Anklang finden, was ich nennen möchte: einen durch solche Ideen, wie ich sie heute dargestellt habe, geforderten Weltschulverein. Im Grunde genommen müßten aus allen Nationen diejenigen Menschen, die heute einsehen, daß ein freies, emanzipiertes Geistesleben dem Erziehungs-, dem Schulsystem zugrunde liegen muß, sich vereinigen zu einem internationalen Weltschulverein, der mehr wirklich reale Lebenskräfte zur Einigung der Völker bringen würde als mancher andere Bund, der aus alten Verwaltungsgrundsätzen und aus alten abstrakten Prinzipien heraus heute gegründet wird. Ein solcher Völkerbund, wie er liegen würde spirituellgeistig in einem Weltschulverein, würde die Menschen über das weite Erdenrund in einer großen, einer Riesenaufgabe für ein Stück zusammenführen.
Es handelt sich darum, daß im Verlaufe der neueren Zeit mit Recht aus den alten Konfessionen heraus der moderne Staat die Schule übernommen hat. Aber dasjenige, was dazumal, als der Staat dieses geleistet hat. ein Segen war, das würde fernerhin kein Segen sein, wenn es so bliebe. Der Staat kann nicht etwas anderes aus der Schule machen als seinen Diener. Er kann Theologen als Staatsbeamte, Juristen und so weiter als Staatsbeamte ausbilden lassen. Wenn aber das Geistesleben auf seinem Eeignen Grund und Boden stehen soll, so muß jeder Lehrende und Erziehende einzig und allein verantwortlich sein der geistigen Welt, zu der er aufschauen kann aus anthroposophisch orientierter Geisteswissenschaft heraus. Ein Weltschulverein müßte gegründet werden auf ganz internationalem Boden von seiten aller derjenigen, welche auf der einen Seite Verständnis haben für ein wirklich freies Geistesleben, und auf der anderen Seite Verständnis haben für dasjenige, was die Zukunft der Menschheit in sozialer Beziehung fordert. Ein solcher Weltschulverein wird allmählich über die ganze zivilisierte Welt hin die Anschauung erzeugen, daß die Schulen wiederum frei sein müssen; daß in den Schulen die freie Lehrerschaft auch die Verwaltung selber besorgen muß. In solchen Dingen kann man nicht so kleinlich und philiströs denken, wie viele denken. Sie sagen: Werden denn in diese freien Schulen die Kinder auch hineingeschickt werden? - So darf man nicht denken. Man muß sich klar sein: Diese freie Schule ist eine Forderung der Zukunft, Es müssen Mittel und Wege gefunden werden, wie man die Kinder, selbst wenn es auch in der Zukunft noch abgeneigte Eltern geben sollte, in die Schule hineinbringt ohne Staatszwang. Es handelt sich nicht darum, daß man sagt: Es ist die freie Schule aus einer solchen Rücksicht heraus zu bekämpfen; sondern es handelt sich darum, daß man Mittel und Wege für die freie Schule findet, trotzdem vielleicht von dieser Seite her manches gegen sie spricht, was eben in der entsprechenden Weise dann ausgebildet werden muß. Ich bin überzeugt davon, daß die wichtigste Angelegenheit für die soziale Menschheitsentwickelung die Begründung eines solchen Weltschulvereins ist, der in den weitesten Kreisen den Sinn für reales, konkretes, freies Geistesleben erweckt. Wenn solche Stimmung über die Welt hin existieren wird, dann wird man nicht Waldorfschulen als Winkelschulen errichten müssen, die von Staatsgnaden bestehen, sondern dann werden die Staaten gezwungen sein, da wo freies Geistesleben wirklich Schulen begründet, aus ihren eigenen Bedingungen heraus diese Schulen voll anzuerkennen, ohne von staatlicher Seite aus irgendwie hineinzureden.
Dasjenige, was ich Ihnen hier für das freie Geistesleben entwickele, daß es aus sich selbst heraus gestaltet werden muß, gilt auch für diejenige Gestaltung des öffentlichen Lebens, welche sich anthroposophisch orientierte Geisteswissenschaft für das Wirtschaftsleben denken muß. Geradeso wie das Geistesleben auf die Fähigkeit der einzelnen Menschenindividualität gestellt sein muß, so muß das Wirtschaftsleben gestellt sein auf etwas anderes, nämlich darauf, daß wir im Grunde genommen im Wirtschaftsleben gar nicht als einzelne ein Urteil fällen können, welches sich in Handlungen, in wirtschaftliche Handlungen umsetzen läßt. Sehen Sie, in bezug auf das Geistesleben müssen wir anerkennen: Nach Totalität, nach innerer Harmonie strebt die menschliche Seele. Die Individualität des Lehrers, des Erziehers muß nach dieser inneren Totalität streben. Dem Kinde muß man so beikommen, daß man nach dieser Totalität strebt. - Im Wirtschaftsleben stehen wir so drinnen, daß wir fach- und sachtüchtig nur in den engeren Branchen sein können, und daß etwas Gedeihliches nur herauskommen kann, wenn man sich vereinigt mit Leuten anderer Branchen. Und so hat man zu denken, daß mit einer ebensolchen Notwendigkeit, wie das freie Geistesleben sich herausbilden muß als ein Glied des sozialen Organismus, sich das auf das assoziative Prinzip gebaute Wirtschaftsleben herausbilden muß als ein anderes selbständiges Glied des dreigliedrigen sozialen Organismus. Wir werden in Zukunft aus anderen Grundlagen heraus das Wirtschaftsleben gestalten müssen, wie wir es aus der Vergangenheit herein gewöhnt sind. Man gestaltet heute das Wirtschaftsleben nur aus der Vergangenheit; man hat ja keinen anderen Maßstab für den Erwerb, das Erträgnis; und an die Umgestaltung dieser Erwerbs-Wirtschaftsgesellschaft in etwas anderes denken die Menschen heute doch nicht. Ich möchte dies an einem Beispiel erörtern, das ja vielleicht noch nicht aus dem reinen Wirtschaftsleben hergenommen ist, das aber doch seine wirtschaftliche Seite hat, und zeigt, wie auch auf ganz materiellem Gebiete in das assoziative Prinzip des Wirtschaftens hineingegangen werden kann. Ich möchte da darauf aufmerksam machen: Wir haben die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft. Viele Menschen mögen sie ja nicht besonders lieben, mögen sie als etwas Sektiererisches betrachten, was sie ganz gewiß nicht ist, oder als etwas Nebulos-Mystisches, was sie auch ganz gewiß nicht ist. Diese Gesellschaft widmet sich der Pflege anthroposophisch orientierter Geisteswissenschaft. Nun hat diese Anthroposophische Gesellschaft vor vielen Jahren in Berlin den Philosophisch-Anthroposophischen Verlag begründet; eigentlich zwei Menschen haben ihn zunächst begründet, aber aus der Denkweise der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft heraus. Dieser Verlag nun arbeitet nicht wie eine Erwerbsgesellschaft, wie ein anderer Verlag, der aus der wirtschaftlichen Denkweise der modernen Zeit hervorgeht. Wie arbeiten die anderen Verlagsunternehmungen? Sie drucken Bücher. Das bedeutet: Man muß so und so viele Leute in Anspruch nehmen, die an der Papierbearbeitung beteiligt sind, so und so viele Setzer, Drucker, Einbinder und so weiter. Nun bitte, schauen Sie sich jedes Jahr jene merkwürdigen Gebilde an, welche man im Buchhandel die Krebse nennt. Es sind diejenigen Bücher, die bei den Sortimentern draußen nicht gekauft werden, sondern bei der nächsten Östermesse wieder zurückwandern an den Verleger zum Einstampfen. Da hat man auf den Markt hinausgebracht Waren, für die man ein ganzes Heer von Menschen beschäftigt hat, und unnötig beschäftigt hat.
Das ist eine wesentliche Seite der sozialen Frage: die unnötigen, die nicht zweckentsprechenden Arbeiten. Man redet heute allzuviel, weil man in Phrasen, nicht in Sachkenntnis leben will, von erwerbslosem Einkommen. Man sollte vielmehr in die realen Verhältnisse hineinschauen. Denn auf dem Gebiet des ganzen äußerlich-materiellen Lebens ist in vieler Beziehung auch solches vorhanden. Der PhilosophischAnthroposophische Verlag hat bis jetzt kein einziges Buch vergeblich gedruckt, höchstens einige, die wir aus besonderer Liebenswürdigkeit für Mitglieder gedruckt haben, und von denen wir von vorneherein wußten, sie sind nur aus Liebenswürdigkeit gedruckt, wo wir die Sache also gewissermaßen geschenkt haben. Aber was sonst gedruckt wurde, dafür war von vorneherein der Konsum da, waren die Konsumenten da. Unsere Bücher waren immer rasch ausverkauft, nichts wurde unnötig gedruckt. Kein Arbeiter wurde unnötig in Anspruch genommen, keine unnötige Arbeit wurde geleistet im sozialen Verkehr. So etwas läßt sich auf dem ganzen weiten Gebiet des Wirtschaftslebens erreichen, wenn man zusammengliedert diejenigen Menschen, die auf der einen Seite ein Verständnis haben für die Bedürfnisse auf irgendeinem Gebiet, mit denjenigen, die Handel treiben mit gewissen Produkten, mit denjenigen, die produzieren. Aus den Konsumenten, denjenigen, die Handel treiben und den Produzenten werden sich Assoziationen bilden, die vor allen Dingen mit der Regelung des Preises sich zu schaffen machen werden. Es würden diese Assoziationen, die sich ihre eigene Größe geben - wenn sie zu groß sind, würden sie unübersichtlich, wenn sie zu klein sind, würden sie zu teuer -, wiederum vereinigen zu großen Assoziationen; sie werden dann sich erweitern können zu dem, was man die Weltwirtschaftsassoziation nennen muß. Denn das ist ja das Charakteristikon der neueren Wirtschaft, daß sie zur Weltwirtschaft geworden ist.
Ich müßte noch viel sagen, wenn ich das, was ich nur dem Prinzip nach dargestellt habe, ausführen wollte. Das assoziative Leben ist nicht gemeint als ein organisatorisches. Trotzdem ich aus Deutschland komme - ich habe ja vielfach in Deutschland gelebt, habe allerdings jetzt meinen Wirkungskreis in Dornach, in der Schweiz -, so wirkt doch auf mich das Wort Organisation wie etwas, was mir schrecklich ist. Denn Organisieren bedeutet: etwas von oben herab bestimmen, von oben herab einrichten, von einem Zentrum aus einrichten. Das verträgt das Wirtschaftsleben nicht. Indem die mitteleuropäischen Staaten ihr Wirtschaftsleben organisieren wollten, haben gerade sie, die eingepfercht waren zwischen Westen und Osten, einem gesunden Wirtschaftsleben entgegengearbeitet. Das assoziative Wirtschaftsleben, das angestrebt werden muß, das läßt die Industrien, auch die industriellen Genossenschaften bestehen, es schließt sie nur zusammen nach Produktion und Konsumtion, die durch die Tätigkeit derjenigen, die die Assoziationen verwalten, geregelt werden; geregelt werden durch freie Verträge vom Einzelnen zum Einzelnen oder von Assoziation zu Assoziation.
Dasjenige, was hier zu sagen ist, finden Sie näher ausgeführt in meinen «Kernpunkten der sozialen Frage» oder in anderen Schriften, zum Beispiel in dem Buche, das diese «Kernpunkte» ergänzt: «In Ausführung der Dreigliederung.»
So fordert dasjenige, was gerade den modernsten Bedürfnissen entgegenkommt als anthroposophisch orientierte Geisteswissenschaft, aus Lebenspraxis, zwei selbständige Glieder des sozialen Organismus: Das freie Geistesleben; das assoziativ gestaltete Wirtschaftsleben. Diese muß gerade der fordern, der es mit einer Grundkraft des ganzen modernen Menschenwesens, mit einer Grundsehnsucht der neuesten Zeit vollständig ernst und ehrlich nimmt, mit der Sehnsucht nach Demokratie.
Meine sehr verehrten Anwesenden, ich habe meine halbe Lebenszeit, dreißig Jahre, in Österreich zugebracht, habe gesehen, was es heißt: nicht Ernstnehmen im ganzen sozialen Wesen dasjenige, was die modernste Forderung, die Forderung nach Demokratie ist. In den sechziger Jahren des vorigen Jahrhunderts wurde in diesem Experimentierlande Österreich, das gerade aus dem Grunde, weil es nicht verstanden hat, in einer richtigen Weise die sozialen Verhältnisse herbeizuführen, das erste war, das in der großen Weltkatastrophe völlig untergegangen ist, in diesem Österreich erhob sich in den sechziger Jahren auch der Ruf nach Parlamentarismus. Man bildete ein Parlament. Aber wie setzte man dieses Parlament zusammen? Aus vier Kurien: Der Kurie der Großgrundbesitzer, der Kurie der Handelskammer, der Kurie der Städte, Märkte und Industrieorte, der Kurie der Landgemeinden. Also lauter Wirtschaftsinteressen; vier Gruppen von Wirtschaftsinteressen. Die schickte man ins Parlament. Da sollten sie über die politisch-juristischen, über allgemeine staatliche Verhältnisse entscheiden. Sie entschieden immer aus ihren wirtschaftlichen Interessen heraus, daraus bildeten sie eine Majorität. Solche Majoritäten können aber niemals etwas konkret Fruchtbares in die Menschheitsentwickelung, in die soziale Entwickelung hineinbringen. Solche Majoritäten entstehen ja nicht aus dem Sachverständnis heraus. Ehrlich muß man es meinen mit dem Ruf nach Demokratie, mit dem Ruf nach Menschenfreiheit.
Aber man muß sich da durchaus auch klar sein, daß parlamentarisiert werden darf nur über gewisse Dinge, daß Demokratie wirken kann nur über gewisse Dinge, über dasjenige, worüber ein jeder mündig gewordene Mensch kompetent ist. Das demokratische Gebiet bleibt als drittes Glied zwischen dem geistigen Gebiet, das auf freien geistigen Boden gestellt ist einerseits, und zwischen dem wirtschaftlichen Gebiet, das auf assoziativ gestalteten Boden gestellt wird auf der anderen Seite. Es bleibt dazwischen dieses dritte, das staatlich-rechtliche Glied des sozialen Organismus, wo jeder Mensch dem anderen als Gleicher gegenübersteht. In einer solchen Frage wie zum Beispiel der Frage der Arbeitszeit, des Maßes und der Art der Arbeit ist jeder mündig gewordene Mensch als solcher kompetent.
Gehen wir entgegen einer Zukunft, in der über das Geistesleben aus der freien Geistigkeit heraus entschieden wird, in der angestrebt wird eine freie Schule, die aus dem Geiste heraus arbeitet und deshalb auch geschickte und praktische Menschen erzeugt - denn auch die praktischen Schulen werden aus einem solchen Geistesleben heraus sich entwickeln; gehen wir einer Zukunft entgegen, in der ein solches Geistesleben als freies Geistesleben wirkt, in der ein Staatsleben sich auf das beschränkt, wofür jeder mündig gewordene Mensch kompetent ist, in der ein Wirtschaftsleben in Assoziationen gegliedert ist, wo ein Kollektivurteil entsteht dadurch, daß der eine Mensch das in die Assoziation hineinbringt, worinnen er sachtüchtig ist und Verträge abschließt mit dem anderen Menschen, der auf seinem Gebiete sachtüchtig ist - gehen wir einer solchen Zukunft entgegen, dann gehen wir etwas anderem entgegen, als heute sehr viele Menschen glauben, die sich nicht in etwas Neues hineinfügen können.
Es wird viele Menschen geben, die glauben, von Dornach ginge ein nebuloses Geistesleben, ein lebensfremdes Geistesleben aus. Nein, das ist nicht der Fall, in Dornach herrscht der Geist, der mit einer gewissen Paradoxie, die aber berechtigt ist, sagt: Keiner kann ein wirklicher Philosoph werden, der nicht auch versteht Holz zu hacken und Kartoffeln auszunehmen, der nicht Hand anlegen kann an die äußere, praktische Welt. Aus Geisteswissenschaft können keine lebensfremden Menschen hervorgehen, sondern nur solche Menschen, die zu gleicher Zeit für das Leben geschickt sind. Denn Geisteswissenschaft ist nicht eine Abstraktion, sie ist eine Wirklichkeit. Sie durchdringt den Menschen mit einer wirklichen Kraft. Sie macht ihn nicht nur denkerischer, sondern auch geschickter. Sie steht zugleich im Zusammenhang mit dem, was der Mensch als seine Würdigung, seine Moralität empfinden muß, mit Moralität, mit Religion, mit der Kunst. Davon kann jeder sich überzeugen, der den Dornacher Bau sich anschaut. Er ist noch lange nicht fertig; verständnisvolle Menschen haben, damit er bis zum heutigen Punkte gebracht werden konnte, Opfer genug bringen müssen. Dieser Bau ist nicht so entstanden, daß man bei einem Baumeister einen Bau bestellt hätte, der dann aufgeführt worden wäre etwa in gotischem Stil, in Renaissancestil oder dergleichen. Das hätte das Lebensvolle der Geisteswissenschaft, wie sie hier gemeint ist, nicht ertragen. Die Geisteswissenschaft bringt aus sich selber auch ihren Stil in den Kunstformen hervor. So wie die Nuß aus denselben Wachstumskräften, aus denen der Kern entsteht, um sich herum die Nußschale bildet, und wie die Nußschale nicht anders aufgebaut sein kann, wie sie eben ist, aus dem im Nußkern wirkenden Prinzip, so konnte die äußere Bauhülle für das, was in Dornach gewollt wird, aus nichts anderem hervorgehen als aus denselben geistigen Quellen, aus denen in Dornach geforscht und gelehrt wird. Das Wort, das verkündet wird, die Ergebnisse, die erforscht werden, gehen aus denselben Quellen hervor, aus denen künstlerisch die Formen der Säulen, die Ausmalung der Kuppeln, hervorgegangen sind. Gebildhauert, als Architekt gewirkt, gemalt wird dort aus denselben geistigen Impulsen, nicht in strohernen Symbolen oder Allegorien, sondern in mit wahrer Kunst arbeitenden Impulsen, wie gelehrt und geforscht wird. Und dadurch, daß das alles zusammenhängt mit dem lebendigen Geistesleben, das im Menschen rege gemacht werden soll, ist auch das dritte Element, das Element des Religiösen in eine Einheit mit Kunst und Wissenschaft verbunden.
Und so wird das, was hier als Geisteswissenschaft angestrebt wird, indem es praktisch in die Welt eintritt, durch die Dreigliederung des sozialen Organismus verwirklichen dasjenige, was als drei Devisen herübertönt auf eine herzergreifende, Menschengeist erweckende Art aus dem 18. Jahrhundert. Da klingen zu uns herüber die drei großen Ideale: Freiheit, Gleichheit, Brüderlichkeit. Aber gescheite Menschen haben im 19. Jahrhundert immer wiederum eingewendet: In dem Staate läßt sich nicht zu gleicher Zeit Freiheit und Gleichheit und auch wiederum die Brüderlichkeit pflegen. Gescheite Menschen haben das gesagt, haben das gegen diese drei Ideale eingewendet. Sie haben es mit Recht eingewendet. Aber das beruht auf etwas anderem, als man gewöhnlich denkt; es beruht darauf, daß wohl als drei große berechtigte soziale Ideale aus dem 18. Jahrhundert herüberklingen: Freiheit, Gleichheit, Brüderlichkeit, daß man aber bis heute gestanden hat unter der Suggestion des Einheitsstaates; daß man nicht daran gedacht hat, daß dieser Einheitsstaat sich naturgemäß gliedern muß in die drei sozialen Glieder, den freien Geistesorganismus, den auf Gleichheit gebauten Staats- und Rechtsorganismus, und den auf das assoziative Prinzip gebauten Wirtschaftsorganismus.
Man hat mir einmal eingewendet von einer gewissen Seite, die ernst genommen werden will in sozialen Fragen, daß ich die Einheit zersprengen würde, indem ich eine Dreiheit verlange. Ebensowenig wie die Einheit des menschlichen Organismus zersprengt wird dadurch, daß er dasjenige erfüllt, was ich auseinandergesetzt habe in meinem Buche «Von Seelenrätseln», dadurch daß er auch von Natur in drei Glieder zerfällt, ebensowenig wie die Einheit des Menschen dadurch gestört wird, daß das Blut von einem anderen Teile des menschlichen Organismus her in rhythmischer Zirkulation durch den Leib erhalten wird, als von dem die Nerven ausgehen, ebensowenig wie dadurch die Einheit zerstört wird, ja wie sie sogar zerstört würde, wenn der Kopf neben dem, daß er die Nerven ausschickt, auch das Blut erzeugen müßte, ebensowenig wie die Einheit des menschlichen Organismus durch diese Dreiheit gestört wird, ebensowenig wird die Einheit des sozialen Organismus durch diese Dreiheit gestört. Und ich möchte die Betrachtung über Geisteswissenschaft und ihre soziale Lebenspraxis damit beschließen, daß ich darauf hinweise, wie die drei großen Ideale der Menschheit nicht im Einheitsstaate verwirklicht werden können, wie ihre Verwirklichung da eine Illusion werden würde, wie aber diese drei Ideale in das menschliche Leben eindringen können im dreigegliederten sozialen Organismus, in dem herrschen wird: volle Freiheit im freien Geistesleben; Gleichheit der Menschen in demjenigen Gebiet, wo ein jeder kompetent ist, wo als mündig gewordener Mensch jeder als gleicher dem anderen mündig gewordenen Menschen entgegentritt. Die Brüderlichkeit wird im Wirtschaftsleben praktisch erfüllt sein durch das assoziative Prinzip. Nicht die Einheit wird zerstört sein, denn der Mensch steht in allen drei Gliedern drinnen und bildet die lebendige Einheit. Und dazu ist doch im Grunde genommen alle Weltentwickelung da, daß die einzelnen Wirkungsweisen und Wirkungskräfte zuletzt in dem Gipfel der Weltorganisation, im Menschen zusammentreffen. Wie die Naturkräfte, wie sich der ganze Makrokosmos im Mikrokosmos Mensch zusammentreffend wiederfinden im Kleinen, so müssen sich auch die drei großen Ideale, Freiheit, Gleichheit, Brüderlichkeit nicht äußerlich abstrakt treffen im sozialen Organismus, sondern in Wirklichkeit, damit sie zusammenwirken, in der einheitlichen Menschennatur. Der Mensch wird angehören als ein freier Mensch dem freien Geistesleben, zu dem jeder Mensch gehört. Dadurch, daß er ein gleicher dem anderen Menschen gegenüber ist, gehört er an dem staatlich demokratischen Leben, dem Leben der Gleichheit. Dadurch, daß er dem Wirtschaftsleben angehört, steht er in der Brüderlichkeit drinnen.
Freiheit im Geistesleben, Gleichheit im Staats- oder Rechtsleben, Brüderlichkeit im Wirtschaftsleben - ihr harmonisches Zusammenwirken führt zum Heil und zur wahrhaftigen Weiterentwickelung der Menschheit, führt in Aufgangskräfte hinein, die die Niedergangskräfte bekämpfen.
Ein Zusammenwirken durch die drei Glieder des echten sozialen Organismus, ein Zusammenwirken von Freiheit, Gleichheit und Brüderlichkeit in der einheitlichen Menschennatur, das scheint das Zauberwort und Losungswort für die Zukunft der Menschheit werden zu müssen.
Questions of Education, Teaching, and Practical Life from the Perspective of Anthroposophical Spiritual Science
Dear attendees, In my last lecture, I took the liberty of pointing out the true nature of anthroposophically oriented spiritual science. I pointed out how, within this spiritual science, methods have been sought to penetrate into a supersensible world, just as one penetrates into the external, physical-sensory world through one's sense organs and through the intellect, which combines the results of these sense organs. I described these methods last time and pointed out how, apart from ordinary modern science, there is another science, a science with spiritual methods, which provides full proof through observation and experience that "a supersensible world surrounds us just as much as a sensory world surrounds us. I would now like to refer once again to a conclusion that I already elaborated on in my last lecture, and which in a certain sense must form the basis for what I am going to say today.
The anthroposophically oriented spiritual science referred to here is in no way opposed to what has become the scientific worldview of the last three to four centuries. As I emphasized last time, it has only become opposed to a worldview that does not take these scientific findings into account and is more or less dilettantish for the present day. Spiritual science aims to be a continuation of scientific thinking. However, it is through this spiritual scientific continuation that we can attain the very knowledge that meets the most significant spiritual longings of modern human beings. We come to truly know the human being.
It is precisely the modern natural sciences, which are fully recognized by spiritual science, that have given us a wonderful overview of the gradual development of organisms up to the human being in the theory of evolution; but in the end, the human being stands only as the final point of this development.
Within natural science, we can say that a muscle that is shaped in a certain way is found in the animal kingdom in this or that form. We know that humans have so many bones; the number of bones corresponds to that of higher animals. We are accustomed to explaining the emergence of the entire skeletal structure of higher animals and humans through development from lower forms. But what humans carry within themselves as beings is something we cannot really conceive of. Anyone who looks at the matter impartially must acknowledge this. We follow natural phenomena and natural beings up to humans and say: this is how what we find in the rest of nature is structured in humans. But we cannot look at the actual human being.
What we have in scientific knowledge, we also have in practical life, truly as a consequence of the same forces that are at work in knowledge. We see it at work in what pervades modern life with such hardship and mystery; we see it before us in what is commonly called the social question. Millions and millions of people who belong to the proletarian world, who have abandoned the old, traditional religions and worldviews, devote themselves to the belief that the only reality is not the human being with his or her soul life, but that the only reality is the material life that exists in the production processes of external economic efficiency. What the human soul produces in the form of customs, religion, science, and art is nothing more than, as they say, a superstructure, an ideological superstructure on a purely material and even economic-material substructure; in a sense, a kind of smoke rising from the only material reality. Here, too, the actual soul-spiritual aspect of the human being is eliminated.
This is what characterizes modern life: that neither knowledge really reaches the human being, nor can one see or feel the human aspect, or take it into account in one's impulses of will in social life.
Anthroposophically oriented spiritual science fully senses what needs to be done in this direction for the deepest, but often so unconsciously acting, longings of the best modern human souls; what needs to be done is, first, on the path of true human knowledge, and second, on the path of such human fulfillment that human beings can carry true social impulses from their souls into public life. For without bringing in such impulses, which come from the deepest human nature, even the best institutions in outer life will not lead to what the widest circles today believe they must do without, but what they strive for in social relations: a dignified existence.
What I characterized here a few days ago as a path into the spiritual world is perceived by many people as something that leads away from life rather than toward the two great questions of life that I have presented to you again today. That is why it was so important that this anthroposophically oriented spiritual science found its home in the Goetheanum in Dornach, Switzerland, which is still not complete; that this spiritual science also approaches practical institutions directly in order to demonstrate through these institutions its knowledge of human nature and its ability to intervene in practical human life.
One of the most important practical areas is undoubtedly education and schooling. When we educate children, we are essentially dealing with what the next generation will bring into the world, and that means an extraordinary amount. It is a way of influencing the near future when we influence children through education and schooling. By seeking the paths to the human being, anthroposophically oriented spiritual science also comes to know the developing human being, the child, in a comprehensive way. And from such a comprehensive knowledge of the developing human being, the child, anthroposophically oriented spiritual science seeks to gain a true art of education and teaching. For what leads to an understanding and penetration of the human being out of anthroposophically oriented spiritual science is not exhausted in abstract concepts, in theoretical ideas, but ultimately develops into an artistic grasping, first of the human form, but then also of the human soul and spirit. One can say at length that real science must work in a sober, dry manner, as it is called, using objective concepts alone. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, but nature, the world, does not create in such concepts! If the world mocks the desire to banish its creation into such laws as we want our laws of nature to be, if it cannot be grasped in sober, merely external, easily stirred up, logical concepts! We can make our demands, but whether we thereby attain real knowledge depends on whether nature creates in such a way. And the newer scientific mindset could not approach human beings because it does not take into account that as nature ascends through the mineral kingdom, the plant kingdom, the animal kingdom, and up to human beings, its creation at each stage becomes such that it can no longer be grasped with mere logical concepts, with sober understanding, but must be grasped in an increasingly artistic way. What ultimately lives in the human being is ambiguous and manifold. And because spiritual science, in its own way, seeks inner harmony between knowledge, religious deepening, and artistic expression, it also manages to perceive this enigmatic but admirable human being, as it enters the world, in the right way, I mean with the spiritual eye.
Last time, I explained how we look very scientifically at the world in which this human being existed before descending into physical existence through conception or birth. I pointed out how, with mathematical clarity, anthroposophical spiritual science presents the spiritual-soul aspect that descends from spiritual worlds and works inwardly on the physical human form, taking only the materials from the stream of heredity of the generations.
When one discusses such things today, one is often regarded as paradoxical. Yet spiritual science proceeds in no other way than natural science itself. The only difference is that natural science works in its own fields in the laboratory, in the clinic, and in the observatory, while spiritual science approaches the human being in order to observe it in the same way that the natural scientist is accustomed to doing in his own fields, where things are, of course, much simpler, where it is easier to observe and to search for laws.
I would first like to point out how we can look at human development from a purely scientific perspective. Spiritual science must, of course, take into account the gradual development of the human being through different stages of life. We have one such epoch of life, from birth to the change of teeth, around the age of seven. It might easily seem as if some mystical inclination compels us to recognize a kind of leap in human development around the age of seven. But that is not the case. Just as recognizing seven color nuances in the rainbow does not arise from any mystical urge, neither do the things I am about to explain arise from any mystical inclination, but rather from an objective, unbiased scientific observation of the human being. First of all, physically, one can say that a tremendous change takes place when, around the age of seven, the human being expels something from itself that will not be expelled again later: the second teeth; a kind of completion is thus achieved. But the matter becomes quite clear when we do not limit our observations to the external, physical organism, but observe what goes on in parallel with this stage of development in the physical organism. Then we see, if we are able to observe at all, how the whole soul life of the child slowly changes during this period. We see how the child, who previously formed vague, blurred concepts, gradually begins to form concepts with sharper contours; how concept formation generally only begins at this age. We also see how the child develops a completely different kind of memory. It often already has an excellent memory, but this is purely natural, without the child having to exert any effort to remember something. Now it has to exert an effort to really remember the things that come its way, to recall them. In short, it becomes apparent that from the time of tooth replacement, around the age of seven, this child begins to work in the realm of imagination, thought, and conscious will. What is actually happening here? You see, this is what is happening: the same power that can then be observed as a spiritual-soul power in the child, in that it forms images with sharp contours, in that it forms thoughts – where was this power before? Today's abstract soul researchers or psychologists do not ask this question. When physicists observe heat being generated in a process without any heating having taken place, they say: there was latent heat in the body beforehand, and now the heat is being released. They first look for what is being released as heat inside the body. This way of thinking must also be applied to human life. Where was the soul-spiritual element that appears in children after the age of seven? It was latent in the child's organism; it was active in organic growth and organic structure until the moment when, so to speak, the end point of this period of growth, which occurs particularly in the early years of childhood, is reached with the eruption of the second teeth.
Today we have a psychology that is entirely abstract. People think about how the body and soul relate to each other. They come up with the strangest, most phrase-like hypotheses. These phrase-like hypotheses cannot lead to any pedagogical art. Spiritual science shows how what we see emerging in the child's soul after the age of seven is already active in the organism before the age of seven, before the change of teeth; how the soul is first an organic force that then becomes free.
And so the true spiritual researcher observes in a concrete way throughout the whole of human life. I would like to point out something very specific so that you can learn to recognize the special nature of this methodical approach.
We can observe children's play. Anyone who can observe a child at play with an unbiased mind and with full participation in the developing human nature knows that, although games are typical, each child plays in its own individual way. And if you are an educator or teacher, you can also guide and direct this play in a certain way. One can guide and direct it based on the nature of the child. One can also try to give it a reasonable direction, depending on one's ability to do so. If one takes all this into account, one can distinguish precisely between children who play in one way and those who play in another, and so on. Then comes the age when this special nature, which is expressed in play, is no longer so visible in the child. The child enters school and other interests fulfill them. It is true that we are then less able to notice what the consequences of the special nature of play actually are. Those who do not just look at things superficially, but who know that human life is a unity and therefore extend their observations to the whole of human life, can notice how, around the age of twenty-four or twenty-fifth year, at the time when human beings are supposed to find their connection to the world, when they are supposed to find their place in the world, one is more or less skilled for practical life, the other is less skilled, one becomes a dreamer who cannot handle anything practical skillfully, the other handles every detail with particular skill. The way in which one finds one's way into life, skillfully or unskillfully, in one's twenties is a direct result of the child's play activities. There are certain rivers that appear from their source, then disappear beneath the earth's surface, and later reappear in another place. So it is with abilities in human life. The ability that is particularly evident in children at play is effective in the first years of life, then disappears into the depths of the soul and reappears in one's twenties in the way that people find their way into life. Consider that in the way we guide children's play for educational purposes, we are intervening in their happiness or unhappiness, in the fate of human beings in their twenties.
What might be called responsibility for education and teaching is sharpened enormously by approaching such insights. But at the same time, it also inspires a true art of education and teaching. For it is not narrow concepts that can reach people, but only a broad vision gained through such connections in human nature. We find that we must indeed distinguish between epochs, stages in human development. The first stage goes from birth to the change of teeth; it bears a very special character.
Here I would like to mention that those who become teachers or educators based on anthroposophically oriented spiritual science are thoroughly imbued with the awareness that what we encounter as so wonderful and mysterious in the developing human being, the child, actually contains a message from the spiritual world. We look at the child, how it first has its indeterminate features, but how these become more definite; how it is initially indeterminate, especially in its movements and life impulses, and how more and more certainty comes into these life impulses from the depths of the soul. Those who are prepared to become teachers and educators based on anthroposophically oriented spiritual science are aware that In what is transformed more and more into a distinct physiognomy in the child's face from day to day, week to week, year to year, in what works through the liveliness of the hands, in what is conjured into language, there lives that which descends from spiritual worlds, And that one learns to recognize this activity in the spiritual world, which is of a completely different nature than that in the physical world, that one approaches the child as an educator with this attitude, with this feeling, that is, to see a salvation in the teaching profession; that is, to see in the teaching profession something that can be described in words such as: I have been given a human being from the spiritual worlds; I have to help solve its mysteries; I have to show it the way into life through a true art of human knowledge.
This art of human knowledge shows, however, that in the first epoch of its life, the human being is what I would call an imitative being. I have described this particular characteristic of the developing human being in detail in my little book, The Education of the Child from the Point of View of Spiritual Science. When human beings enter the physical world from the spiritual world, they express what they have most recently experienced in the spiritual world as if in an echo in the physical world. When we as anthroposophists educate children, we say to ourselves that it is childishly primitive how children instinctively imitate what is going on around them; they imitate in their movements what is shown to them. It learns language only through imitation, not through anything else. But the child also imitates what is happening in its environment in moral and other respects, through its parents or other people in its vicinity, during the period until its teeth change. There is something here that can only be understood through spiritual science. Before it was conceived or born, the child was in the spiritual world; in the spiritual world, which, as I explained last time, can be recognized through the training of the special power of memory and through the development of the power of love. In this spiritual world, every being is so immersed that it does not stand outside other beings, but can objectively live itself into every other being with love. The child brings this standing in the world with it, as if in an echo, and we then observe how the child becomes an imitative being, how it acquires everything it learns, everything it appropriates in the first seven years of life, as an imitative being. And in a proper pedagogical art, we must pay particular attention to this principle of imitation. In this regard, people succumb to many delusions. First, I would like to mention one such delusion as an example, of which I could cite hundreds. Once, the father of a boy of about five years old came to me and said that he had real trouble with his child, that his child had stolen. I said, “Well, let's first investigate whether the child really did steal.” The father said, “Yes, the boy took money from the drawer where his mother keeps her money; he bought sweets with the money and distributed them to other children on the street.” I asked, “What else happens to the money in the drawer?” The father said, “Every morning, the mother takes out what she needs for household use.” Then I said to the father, Then the child did not steal. The child is five years old, so in the fullest sense still an imitative being. Something is right and good for the child to do what it sees done in its environment; the mother does it every day, so it does it once too. That is not stealing, but corresponds to the basic principle of development in the first seven years of human life.
You see, a real educator must know these things. In the first seven years of life, you cannot guide and direct the child through admonitions or commands of any kind; instead, you guide and direct the child through what you yourself do. But just as in nature, there are imponderables in human beings. You guide and lead the child not only by what you yourself do, but also by what you yourself feel and think. If you are a person who does not allow yourself to have mean and petty ideas and feelings in the presence of your children, then your children will also become noble and good. If, in the presence of children, you allow yourself to have base thoughts and feelings because you think that human organization is there and it will not have any effect, then they will have an effect. There are imponderables in this area.
These imponderables also manifest themselves in the second phase of life, which begins after the change of teeth and lasts until sexual maturity, around the age of fourteen. In this phase of life, the child enters school. We had to study the transition from one phase of life, the imitative phase, to this second phase of life, from the change of teeth to sexual maturity, in particular, in order to establish a proper spiritual and artistic pedagogy for the Waldorf school founded by Emil Molt in Stuttgart and directed by me. At this Waldorf school, teaching and education are to be based entirely on anthroposophically oriented spiritual science. Education and teaching are to be practiced as a true art, based on a genuine understanding of human nature. This is because, at the time when the human being changes from an imitative being into another being, which I will characterize in a moment, the child is taken into school, and this period of transition had to be studied in particular.
In this second phase of life, up to puberty, it is no longer mere imitation that develops the child's abilities and whole being; another impulse emerges from the depths of the child's soul. It is the impulse to have a natural authority figure in the form of a teacher or educator. You see, today, when everything is to be democratized, it is easy to demand that schools also be democratized. Some even want to abolish the difference between the teacher and the pupil in community schools, and whatever else these beautiful things are called. This is based on party politics, not on an understanding of human nature and essence. One should not judge these things based on one's political views, but rather based on the matter itself. And it is clear that from the time they lose their baby teeth until they reach sexual maturity, human beings have an innate urge not only to imitate their surroundings, but also to listen to a loved one, a being who is naturally recognized as an authority, to learn what is good and evil, what is right and wrong. Blessed is the person who, throughout their entire life, can remember such natural authorities who stood by their side. Blessed is the person who can say to themselves: I had a teacher; when I came to them, I was already afraid to even open the door handle to their room, so natural did it seem to me that they were a source of truth and goodness. It is not a matter of discussing these things in social or other contexts, but rather of getting to know human nature and saying to oneself: just as the special nature of the play instinct in the twenties is revealed in the skillful or unskillful way of entering into life, so too, in the age of freedom, the feeling of freedom must be the fundamental nuance of social coexistence, the right feeling of freedom, the right sense of freedom, comes about through the right belief in authority having fully developed in the child from about the age of seven to fifteen. No one who has not developed in this way in relation to authority can become free in the true sense of the word later on, just as no one who has not once gone through the process of imitating their environment through the urge to imitate can be driven to social philanthropy later on. We do not have this imitation later on, but we need social feelings. These depend on how the real educator and teacher allows the child to imitate his own nature during the first seven years of life. We need people who can enter life today with a genuine sense of freedom. But these are the people who, as educators and teachers, were confronted with the child from the time of tooth replacement to sexual maturity in such a way that they were a natural authority.
Anyone who, like me, already in 1892 with my “Philosophy of Freedom,” placed the fundamental social fact in the sense of freedom, in the feeling of freedom, will certainly not speak against freedom and democracy; but precisely because he wants to speak in favor of them, he must recognize that the art of education needs authority for the period of life that runs from the change of teeth to sexual maturity. Moreover, this is also the time when the child must gradually work its way from pictorial imagination to more rational, intellectual imagination. This goes beyond a certain important point in life.
You see, such things in life must be understood by a true art of education, a true didactics.
Around the age of nine — it can last until the age of ten or even eleven — is an extremely important stage in a child's development. When we have the child in school, we accompany them through this stage, guiding and directing them as teachers and educators. In the first years of childhood, the child learns language; it gradually learns to say “I.” But this distinction between its own self and its surroundings remains somewhat vague until the age of nine. Anyone who can truly observe life knows that the child crosses a Rubicon at this point, that between the ages of nine and about eleven it actually learns to distinguish itself from its surroundings. How one behaves towards the child at this point in life, which comes earlier for some children and later for others, but still within the period described, has an enormous impact on the child's entire future life. One has a feeling, a sense: the child is making its own distinction from the external world; it no longer feels like a finger would feel on the organism if it were conscious; it now feels itself to be an independent being — if one can adjust oneself in the right way at this point, one creates in the child a source of lasting joy and freshness of life. On the other hand, if one does not adjust oneself correctly to the child at this point, one cultivates a bleak and disenchanted outlook on life. It must be taken into account that up to this point, the child proceeds from the image with which its own nature is related. This nature does not yet differ from its surroundings; it is still absorbed in its surroundings. One must take into account that one must proceed from what is grasped pictorially as the connection between the human being and its surroundings.
We bring children into school from their parents' homes. Today we live in an age where our writing and reading have already produced conventional symbols that have no immediate, inner connection to human beings. Compare the abstract letters of our writing with what humanity had in older times as pictorial writing . Back then, writing captured what was actually imagined. Today, writing has become abstract. If we introduce this abstract writing directly to children in reading and writing, we are introducing something foreign to them, something that is certainly not suitable for six-, seven-, or eight-year-olds. That is why we teach differently at Waldorf schools. We do not start with abstract letters in reading and writing at all, but work from an artistic perspective. We first let the child paint and draw, work with colors, and work with shapes. This does not just engage the head, which would be very harmful for the child, but engages the whole person. We then let the letters emerge from these shapes, which are even colored. In this way, the child learns to write, and after writing, it learns to read, since our reading letters are even more abstract than our writing letters. In this way, we develop the abstract element that we need today from the artistic, which is close to life. We do the same with other objects. In this way, we achieve a lively, artistic pedagogy; in this way, we truly reach the soul of the child. What we call understanding plants or stones and the like in everyday life can only occur in children after the point I have just described, when the child learns to distinguish itself from its surroundings.
Perhaps some children in our Waldorf school learn to read and write later than in other schools. This is not a disadvantage, but on the contrary a great advantage; for one can drum abstract reading and writing into the child, and in doing so one can not only develop the parroting of whatever the eyes fall on, but one can also kill something, and what one kills in childhood is killed for the whole of human existence between birth and death. What we allow to remain viable and make viable is that which should be present in human beings throughout their lives as something fresh and blossoming, and it is the task of a true educator to develop this.
You will always have heard that 19th-century pedagogy also emphasized in many ways that one should develop from the individuality of the child; one should not merely want to graft something into the child, but one should bring out what is predisposed in the child. Certainly, pedagogy also has great geniuses, that should not be denied; much has already been said in the field of scientific pedagogy. But no matter how often one repeats the abstract statement and all the other abstract things that have already been said, that the child should be developed as an individual, one only benefits from this if one can observe concretely, day by day, how this childlike individuality unfolds; when one knows how the principle of imitation prevails in the first seven years of life, how in the next phase of life, from the age of seven to fourteen, the principle of authority prevails in connection with the principle of transition from pictorial-symbolic, memory-based imagination to imagination based on the intellect, on concepts, which then occurs in the eleventh and twelfth year. If one can observe all this, if one learns from spiritual-scientific and artistic observation of the world how to follow this, then more is achieved than can be achieved by abstract demands; one should develop the child from its individuality. Anthroposophically oriented spiritual science does not present abstractions or mere demands, but looks at what can develop into art through the spirit, through the universally sharpened sense of observation, as I described last time.
I was only able to characterize in individual features what can emerge from anthroposophically oriented spiritual science as knowledge of human beings and form the basis for the practice of life that is lived out in education and teaching. The great social demands of the present show us that we need something like this. Spiritual science leads everywhere from the mere unrealistic grasp of outer life to concrete reality by adding the supersensible-spiritual to the outer material. In this way, however, the human being is placed at the center of the world's being, both in real observation and in action. And that is necessary. I would like to reinforce this with an example from the art of education. I would like to cite something characteristic: Imagine we want to teach a child simple religious ideas, for example, the immortality of the soul. If we want to teach this to a child before the age of nine or ten, we can work from the figurative. We must say to the child, for example: Look at the butterfly chrysalis; the shell breaks open and the butterfly flutters out into the air. It is the same with human beings. The immortal soul dwells in the physical body. Death breaks this body. The immortal soul is comparable to the butterfly, only invisibly fluttering out of the physical body into the supersensible world, just as the butterfly flies out of the chrysalis into the air. You see, when one studies such a thing with regard to the art of living education, one comes to the imponderables of life. As a teacher or educator, I can say to myself: I am very clever, I have grown old; the child is still young, it is very stupid. So I come up with a comparison between the chrysalis and the butterfly. I pretend to the child, as a clever person, something that I myself do not believe, something that I myself consider stupid, so that it understands the immortality of the soul. This will not achieve much. In a materialistic age, this seems paradoxical, but it is true: it will not achieve much. When the anthroposophically oriented spiritual researcher looks at the matter, it becomes something else. They themselves believe in what they present as an image. They do not say: I am the intelligent one and I am deceiving the child — instead they say: The eternal beings and powers that work as spiritual forces in nature have objectively placed the image of the immortal human being in the butterfly. And by believing in this image with every fiber of my being and speaking to the child from this belief, I awaken a truly religious idea in the child. It is not what I say to the child that matters, but how I myself am, how I myself relate to things. This will increasingly become part of the art of education.
And you must also understand it in this way when I say: Some people come to the Waldorf school to look at it, to attend a series of lessons and the like. It is just as if you wanted to cut out a piece of a painting by Rembrandt and believed that you could get an idea of the whole painting from it. You can never do that when something is conceived and structured as a whole, as is the case with the Waldorf school, when something is so separated from the whole of anthroposophically oriented spiritual science. — What kind of teachers are needed there? Those who have shaped their entire lives from the spiritual knowledge I spoke about here last time. The best way to get to know the Waldorf school, the best way to get to know the pedagogy of the Waldorf school, is to first get to know anthroposophically oriented spiritual science. Because just looking at things and wanting to sit in on classes at the Waldorf school will not allow you to learn much about the Waldorf school.
These things need to be said because they show what the nature of the new spirit must be that is to enter practical life, starting from the spirit of the Dornach School of Spiritual Science, into social, artistic, and educational life, into the whole of practical life.
Now, if you think this through, you will no longer find it strange that those who immerse themselves in such a spiritual life as underlies this art of education must indeed stand on the ground of a free spiritual life. What we have in intellectual life today is a certain tendency toward abstraction, a certain tendency toward programmatic thinking; a tendency that has been imposed on intellectual life by the fact that in recent times intellectual life has become dependent on state life on the one hand and economic life on the other. What must first be demanded by the worldview I am talking about here is a spiritual life that stands on its own. This spiritual life would be the first link in what I have called the threefold social organism in my book “The Key Points of the Social Question.” What must be demanded of spiritual life, which is not utopian but can be tackled every day, is that those who are involved in real spiritual life, that is, in the most important, public part of spiritual life, in teaching and education, should at the same time be the administrators of this spiritual life in the broadest sense. In the teaching and education system, those who are actively involved should only have to spend so many hours teaching and educating that they still have time left to administer the teaching and education system together with others in smaller or larger corporations. It is not those who have been taken out of education and teaching and placed in government positions, or those who are retired, but those who are actively involved in teaching who are called upon to administer education as such. For what is administered in education, and indeed in intellectual life in general, must be nothing more than a continuation of what is taught, of what constitutes the content of every word and every action in the classroom. Regulations must not be imposed from outside, by the state or by economic interests. Autonomy, self-administration of intellectual life, is necessary.
I know very well that those who want to form facile, logical concepts, or who base their views on a superficial historical perspective, will have many objections, for one must truly be immersed in the whole nature of spiritual life in order to recognize the necessity of liberating this spiritual life as an independent member of the social organism. Anyone who, like me, has been a teacher for many years at a proletarian school—the one founded by Wilhelm Liebknecht—anyone who has become acquainted with proletarian life, with the form of the social question that lives within it, knows that this social question is not merely a question of external institutions, not merely a question of dissatisfaction with external institutions; they know something quite different. They know that a word that is encountered again and again within proletarian life, but which goes far beyond it, is the word “ideology,” in the interpretation I have set out in the first chapter of my “Key Points of the Social Question.” What is hidden behind this word ideology?
Well, in ancient times in the Orient, people spoke of the great illusion, of Maya. By this they meant the external sensory world, which, according to ancient Oriental beliefs, provides us only with an illusion, beliefs which have now fallen into decline in the Orient and are of no use to us. For the ancient Oriental sages, the true reality, the reality that fully sustains human beings, was that which develops in the soul, that which lives in the soul; what the external senses perceive was only Maya.
We live today in an age in which even the most radical worldviews profess to reverse this point of view. Today, in the widest circles, the external natural or material, that which lives in the production processes, is regarded as the only reality, and Maya is that which arises within the human soul as custom, religion, art, and science. If one wants to translate the Oriental word Maya correctly, one must say: ideology. All other translations are inaccurate for our modern people. But ideology refers precisely to the opposite of what Maya was for the ancient Orientals. Today, the broadest circle of the modern population calls Maya what the ancient Orientals called the only reality. And that has an important significance for life.
I have met such people, who lived among the leading classes under the influence of a worldview that led to such an ideology. I have met people who said to themselves: If we are to trust natural science, it traces the entire origin of the cosmos back to a primordial nebula. That is where the various beings of nature came into being. Human beings also emerged from this. As they emerged, they developed something in their souls like a great illusion, like soap bubbles. Natural science does not show us the reality of what arises from the human soul as customs, religion, science, and art. And if we look again at the end of the Earth's development, we see the great graveyard. On Earth, there is glaciation or heat death, in any case the great graveyard for ideals, for what we consider to be the true human values, the most important and essential things in human beings. There is only a disappearance of existence if we want to trust natural science honestly.
I have been able to see all the tragedy, all the pain in such materialistically minded souls of the leading humanity of modern times, who could not escape the situation of having to take the conclusions of natural science seriously, and who therefore took everything that gives human beings their greatest value as their innermost being to be an illusion. I have encountered this pessimism, which springs from a truly honest pursuit of a scientific worldview, in many people.
This view, however, has found its particular expression in the materialism of the modern working class. There, everything spiritual is regarded as superstructure, as smoke, as haze, as ideology. And what this instills in the modern human being's state of mind—even if one always invents and presents something else, thereby deceiving oneself—is the actual origin of modern antisocial sentiment; that is the real origin of those terrible catastrophes which are still dawning unimagined for most people throughout the East, which are beginning in Russia first, and which have already taken on very devastating dimensions today, but which will take on even greater dimensions if we do not decide to replace ideology with a living grasp of the spirit.
Anthroposophically oriented spiritual science does not merely give us ideas and concepts about reality, but also gives us ideas and concepts through which we know that we are not only thinking about something filled with spirit – spiritual science gives us living spirit, not merely conceptual spirit. It shows human beings in such a way that they are filled with living spirit. Just as the ancient religions gave him living spirit, just as they did not say to him: You should only know something – but rather: You should know something through which divine science lives in you. Just as your blood pulses within you, so divine forces pulse through you through real knowledge. Such knowledge, such spiritual life, is what anthroposophical spiritual science, as represented in Dornach, wants to pass on to humanity.
But it needs the support of the people of the present. Nothing will be achieved by working on a small scale in this field; large-scale action is needed. Spiritual science has nothing sectarian about it; it wants to grasp the great tasks of the present in practical life as well. But to do so, it needs a living understanding of the contemporary world. It is not enough to set up small schools here and there based on the model of the Waldorf school, as some people want to do. That is not what matters, because it does not make our spiritual life any freer.
I have often had to experience, to my great sorrow, how people have a certain distrust of conventional, materialistic medicine. Then they want to come to you and induce you to perform quackery. They want to be healed through back doors, so to speak. I have experienced this to the point of repulsion; I have learned that a Prussian minister defended materialistic medicine before his parliament, attributing sole authority to it; but then he himself came through the back door and wanted to be cured by all kinds of people whom he had fought most vehemently in parliament.
The society that, from a certain point of view, can rightly be described as willing to make sacrifices, that has devoted itself to the cultivation of anthroposophical spiritual science, strives for a radical impulse that can have an effect on the whole. Today, it is nothing less than this: a real spiritual life, as modern humanity needs it, can only be created if those interested in spiritual life — and that is basically all people, some of whom also have children — need a spiritual life that will make their children free human beings for the future, who can create a dignified existence for themselves. Every human being is interested in spiritual life and must work together on what the future should bring through spiritual life. What I would like to call a world school association, based on ideas such as those I have presented today, should find resonance in the widest possible circles. Basically, people from all nations who today recognize that a free, emancipated spiritual life must underlie the education and school system should unite to form an international world school association, which would bring more real life forces to the unification of peoples than many other alliances that are being founded today on the basis of old administrative principles and old abstract principles. Such a league of nations, as it would lie spiritually in a world school association, would bring people together across the wide globe in a great, a giant task for a piece.
The point is that in recent times, the modern state has rightly taken over the school from the old denominations. But what was a blessing at the time when the state did this would no longer be a blessing if it remained so. The state cannot make anything other than its servant out of the school. It can train theologians as civil servants, lawyers, and so on as civil servants. But if spiritual life is to stand on its own ground, then every teacher and educator must be solely responsible to the spiritual world, which he can look up to from an anthroposophically oriented spiritual science. A world school association would have to be founded on a completely international basis by all those who, on the one hand, have an understanding of a truly free spiritual life and, on the other hand, have an understanding of what the future of humanity demands in social terms. Such a world school association will gradually create the view throughout the civilized world that schools must once again be free; that in schools, the free teaching staff must also take care of the administration itself. In such matters, one cannot think as narrow-mindedly and philistinely as many do. They say: Will children also be sent to these free schools? One must not think like that. We must be clear: this free school is a demand of the future. Ways and means must be found to bring children into school without state coercion, even if there are still reluctant parents in the future. It is not a question of saying: the free school must be opposed out of such considerations; rather, it is a question of finding ways and means for the free school, even though there may be some arguments against it from this side, which must then be developed in the appropriate manner. I am convinced that the most important matter for the social development of humanity is the establishment of such a world school association, which awakens a sense of real, concrete, free spiritual life in the widest circles. If such a mood exists throughout the world, then it will not be necessary to establish Waldorf schools as niche schools that exist by the grace of the state; instead, the states will be forced to fully recognize these schools on their own terms, without any interference from the state, wherever free spiritual life truly establishes schools.
What I am developing here for free spiritual life, that it must be shaped from within, also applies to the shaping of public life, which anthroposophically oriented spiritual science must conceive for economic life. Just as spiritual life must be based on the ability of the individual human personality, so economic life must be based on something else, namely on the fact that, in economic life, we cannot, as individuals, make judgments that can be translated into actions, into economic actions. You see, with regard to spiritual life, we must recognize that the human soul strives for totality, for inner harmony. The individuality of the teacher, of the educator, must strive for this inner totality. We must approach the child in such a way that we strive for this totality. In economic life, we are so involved that we can only be professionally and technically competent in the narrower sectors, and that something fruitful can only come out of it if we unite with people from other sectors. And so we must think that, just as free intellectual life must develop as a member of the social organism, economic life based on the associative principle must develop as another independent member of the threefold social organism. In the future, we will have to shape economic life on a different basis than we have been accustomed to in the past. Today, economic life is shaped solely on the basis of the past; we have no other yardstick for earnings and income, and people today do not think about transforming this profit-oriented economic society into something else. I would like to discuss this using an example that may not be taken from purely economic life, but which nevertheless has its economic side and shows how the associative principle of economic activity can also be applied in the purely material sphere. I would like to draw your attention to the Anthroposophical Society. Many people may not particularly like it, may regard it as something sectarian, which it certainly is not, or as something nebulous and mystical, which it certainly is not either. This society is dedicated to the cultivation of anthroposophically oriented spiritual science. Many years ago, this Anthroposophical Society founded the Philosophisch-Anthroposophischer Verlag (Philosophical-Anthroposophical Publishing House) in Berlin; actually, two people founded it initially, but based on the thinking of the Anthroposophical Society. This publishing house does not operate like a commercial enterprise, like other publishing houses that have emerged from the economic thinking of modern times. How do other publishing companies work? They print books. This means that they have to employ a certain number of people to work with the paper, a certain number of typesetters, printers, bookbinders, and so on. Now, please take a look at those strange creatures that are called “crayfish” in bookstores every year. These are the books that are not bought by retailers, but are returned to the publisher at the next Easter fair to be pulped. Goods have been brought onto the market for which an entire army of people has been employed, and employed unnecessarily.
This is an essential aspect of the social question: unnecessary, inappropriate work. Today, people talk too much about unearned income because they want to live in phrases, not in expertise. Instead, we should look at the real circumstances. For in the realm of external, material life, such things also exist in many respects. The Philosophisch-Anthroposophischer Verlag has not printed a single book in vain to date, except for a few that we printed out of special kindness for members, and which we knew from the outset were only printed out of kindness, where we gave the matter away, so to speak. But for everything else that was printed, there was a market for it from the outset, there were consumers. Our books always sold out quickly; nothing was printed unnecessarily. No worker was employed unnecessarily, no unnecessary work was done in social interaction. This can be achieved across the whole broad field of economic life if you bring together those people who, on the one hand, have an understanding of the needs in a particular area with those who trade in certain products, with those who produce. Associations will be formed between consumers, traders, and producers, which will primarily concern themselves with regulating prices. These associations, which determine their own size – if they are too large, they become confusing; if they are too small, they become too expensive – would in turn unite to form large associations; they would then be able to expand into what must be called the world economic association. For that is the characteristic feature of the modern economy, that it has become a world economy.
I would have much more to say if I wanted to elaborate on what I have only outlined in principle. Associative life is not meant to be organizational. Although I come from Germany – I have lived in Germany many times, but now my sphere of activity is in Dornach, Switzerland – the word “organization” strikes me as something terrible. For organizing means determining something from above, setting something up from above, setting something up from a center. Economic life cannot tolerate this. By wanting to organize their economic life, the Central European states, which were hemmed in between West and East, worked against a healthy economic life. The associative economic life that must be strived for allows industries, including industrial cooperatives, to exist; it only brings them together according to production and consumption, which are regulated by the activities of those who administer the associations; regulated by free contracts between individuals or between associations.
What needs to be said here is explained in more detail in my “Key Points of the Social Question” or in other writings, for example in the book that supplements these “Key Points”: “In Execution of the Threefold Social Order.”
Thus, what meets the most modern needs as an anthroposophically oriented spiritual science, based on practical experience, requires two independent members of the social organism: free spiritual life and associatively structured economic life. This must be demanded by those who take completely seriously and honestly a fundamental force of the whole modern human being, a fundamental longing of the latest times, the longing for democracy.
Ladies and gentlemen, I have spent half my life, thirty years, in Austria, and I have seen what it means not to take seriously, in the whole social being, what is the most modern demand, the demand for democracy. In the 1960s, in Austria, a country of experimentation, which was the first to be completely destroyed in the great world catastrophe precisely because it had failed to bring about social conditions in the right way, the call for parliamentarianism also arose in the 1960s. A parliament was formed. But how was this parliament composed? Of four curias: the curia of large landowners, the curia of the chamber of commerce, the curia of cities, markets, and industrial centers, and the curia of rural communities. In other words, all economic interests; four groups of economic interests. They were sent to parliament. There they were to decide on political and legal matters and on general state affairs. They always decided based on their economic interests, and from this they formed a majority. But such majorities can never bring anything concrete and fruitful to human development, to social development. Such majorities do not arise from expertise. One must be sincere in calling for democracy, in calling for human freedom.But it must also be clear that parliamentarization is only permissible for certain matters, that democracy can only work for certain matters, for those matters in which every mature human being is competent. The democratic sphere remains as the third link between the spiritual sphere, which is based on free intellectual ground, on the one hand, and the economic sphere, which is based on associatively structured ground, on the other. Between them remains this third, the state-legal link of the social organism, where every human being stands as an equal to every other. In such matters as, for example, the question of working hours, the amount and nature of work, every person who has reached the age of majority is competent as such.
Are we moving toward a future in which intellectual life is determined by free intellectuality, in which the goal is a free school that works from the spirit and therefore also produces skilled and practical people—for practical schools will also develop from such intellectual life? let us move toward a future in which such spiritual life functions as free spiritual life, in which state life is limited to what every mature person is competent to do, in which economic life is organized into associations, where collective judgment arises one person brings into the association that in which he or she is skilled and concludes contracts with another person who is skilled in his or her field – if we are moving towards such a future, then we are moving towards something different from what many people today believe, who cannot fit into something new.
There will be many people who believe that Dornach is the source of a nebulous spiritual life, a spiritual life that is alien to life. No, that is not the case. In Dornach, the spirit prevails that says, with a certain paradox that is nevertheless justified: No one can become a true philosopher who does not also understand how to chop wood and peel potatoes, who cannot lend a hand in the external, practical world. Spiritual science cannot produce people who are alienated from life, but only those who are at the same time skilled in life. For spiritual science is not an abstraction, it is a reality. It permeates the human being with a real power. It makes him not only more thoughtful, but also more skilled. At the same time, it is connected with what the human being must feel as his dignity, his morality, with morality, with religion, with art. Anyone who looks at the Dornach building can see this for themselves. It is still far from finished; understanding people have had to make enough sacrifices to bring it to its present state. This building did not come about by commissioning an architect to design a building in, say, Gothic or Renaissance style or the like. That would not have been compatible with the vitality of spiritual science as it is meant here. Spiritual science brings forth its own style in the art forms. Just as the nut forms the shell around itself from the same forces of growth that produce the kernel, and just as the shell cannot be constructed any other way than it is, from the principle at work in the kernel, so the outer building shell for what is intended in Dornach could arise from nothing other than the same spiritual sources from which research and teaching take place in Dornach. The word that is proclaimed, the results that are researched, arise from the same sources from which the artistic forms of the columns and the painting of the domes have emerged. Sculpted, designed as an architect, painted there from the same spiritual impulses, not in straw symbols or allegories, but in impulses working with true art, as taught and researched. And because all this is connected with the living spiritual life that is to be stimulated in human beings, the third element, the element of religion, is also united with art and science.
And so, what is strived for here as spiritual science, by entering the world in a practical way, realizes through the threefold social organism what resounds from the 18th century in a heart-rending, human spirit-awakening way as three mottos. The three great ideals resound to us: liberty, equality, fraternity. But intelligent people in the 19th century repeatedly objected: in the state, it is not possible to cultivate freedom and equality and also brotherhood at the same time. Intelligent people said this, objecting to these three ideals. They were right to object. But this is based on something other than what is commonly thought; it is based on the fact that three great and justified social ideals from the 18th century resonate: freedom, equality, fraternity, but that until today we have been under the suggestion of the unitary state; that we have not thought that this unitary state must naturally be divided into three social members, the free intellectual organism, the state and legal organism based on equality, and the economic organism based on the associative principle.
I was once objected to by a certain party, which wants to be taken seriously in social matters, that I would destroy unity by demanding a trinity. Just as the unity of the human organism is not destroyed by fulfilling what I have set out in my book “Von Seelenrätseln” (On the Mysteries of the Soul), by fulfilling what I have set apart in my book “Von Seelenrätseln” (On Soul Riddles), indeed, as it would be destroyed if the head, in addition to sending out the nerves, also had to produce the blood, just as the unity of the human organism is not disturbed by this trinity, so the unity of the social organism is not disturbed by this trinity. And I would like to conclude my reflection on spiritual science and its social practice by pointing out that the three great ideals of humanity cannot be realized in a unitary state, that their realization there would be an illusion, but that these three ideals can penetrate human life in a threefold social organism in which the following will prevail: full freedom in free spiritual life; equality of human beings in the sphere where each is competent, where, as mature human beings, each encounters the other as an equal. Brotherhood will be fulfilled in practical terms in economic life through the associative principle. Unity will not be destroyed, for human beings are present in all three members and form a living unity. And, after all, the whole of world development is there so that the individual modes of action and forces of action ultimately converge in the summit of the world organization, in the human being. Just as the forces of nature, just as the entire macrocosm, come together and are reflected in the microcosm of the human being, so too must the three great ideals of freedom, equality, and brotherhood not meet abstractly in the social organism, but in reality, so that they can work together in the unified nature of the human being. As a free human being, man belongs to the free spiritual life to which every human being belongs. By being equal to other human beings, he belongs to democratic state life, the life of equality. By belonging to economic life, he stands within brotherhood.
Freedom in spiritual life, equality in state or legal life, brotherhood in economic life—their harmonious interaction leads to the salvation and true further development of humanity, leads to forces of ascent that combat the forces of decline.
Cooperation through the three members of the true social organism, cooperation between freedom, equality, and brotherhood in the unified human nature—this seems to be the magic word and slogan for the future of humanity.
