AT
THE END of November, 1918, I returned to Munich. Again I went
to the replacement battalion of my regiment, which was in the
hands of 'soldiers' councils.' Their whole activity was so
repellent to me that I decided at once to leave again as soon
as possible. With Schmiedt Ernst, a faithful war comrade, I
went to Traunstein and remained there till the camp was broken
up.
In March,
1919, we went back to Munich.
The situation
was untenable and moved inevitably toward a further
continuation of the revolution. Eisner's death only hastened
the development and finally led to a dictatorship of the
Councils, or, better expressed, to a passing rule of the Jews,
as had been the original aim of the instigators of the whole
revolution.
At this time
endless plans chased one another through my head. For days I
wondered what could be done, but the end of every meditation
was the sober realization that I, nameless as I was, did not
possess the least basis for any useful action. I shall come
back to speak of the reasons why then, as before, I could not
decide to join any of the existing parties.
In the course of the new revolution of the Councils I for the
first time acted in such a way as to arouse the disapproval of
the Central Council. Early in the morning of April 27, 1919, I
was to be arrested, but, faced with my leveled carbine, the
three scoundrels lacked the necessary courage and marched off
as they had come.
A few days
after the liberation of Munich, I was ordered to report to the
examining commission concerned with revolutionary occurrences
in the Second Infantry Regiment.
This was my
first more or less purely political activity.
Only a few
weeks afterward I received orders to attend a ' course ' that
was held for members of the armed forces. In it the soldier was
supposed to learn certain fundamentals of civic thinking. For
me the value of the whole affair was that I now obtained an
opportunity of fleeting a few like-minded comrades with whom I
could thoroughly discuss the situation of the moment. All of us
were more or less firmly convinced that Germany could no longer
be saved from the impending collapse by the parties of the
November crime, the Center and the Social Democracy, and that
the so-called 'bourgeois-national' formations, even with the
best of intentions, could never repair what had happened. A
whole series of preconditions were lacking, without which such
a task simply could not succeed. The following period confirmed
the opinion we then held. Thus, in our own circle we discussed
the foundation of a new party. The basic ideas which we had in
mind were the same as those later realized in the ' German
Workers' Party.' The name of the movement to be founded would
from the very beginning have to offer the possibility of
approaching the broad masses; for without this quality the
whole task seemed aimless and superfluous. Thus we arrived at
the name of ' Social Revolutionary Party'; this because the
social views of the new organization did indeed mean a
revolution.
But the
deeper ground for this lay in the following: however much I had
concerned myself with economic questions at an earlier day, my
efforts had remained more or less within the limits resulting
from the contemplation of social questions as such. Only later
did this framework broaden through examination of the German
alliance policy. This in very great part was the outcome of a
false estimation of economics as well as unclarity concerning
the possible basis for sustaining the German people in the
future. But all these ideas were based on the opinion that
capital in any case was solely the result of labor and,
therefore, like itself was subject to the correction of all
those factors which can either advance or thwart human
activity; and the national importance of capital was that it
depended so completely on the greatness, freedom, and power of
the state, hence of the nation, that this bond in itself would
inevitably cause capital to further the state and the nation
owing to its simple instinct of self-preservation or of
reproduction. This dependence of capital on the independent
free state would, therefore, force capital in turn to champion
this freedom, power, strength, etc., of the nation.
Thus, the
task of the state toward capital was comparatively simple and
clear: it only had to make certain that capital remain the
handmaiden of the state and not fancy itself the mistress of
the nation. This point of view could then be defined between
two restrictive limits: preservation of a solvent, national,
and independent economy on the one hand, assurance of the
social rights of the workers on the other.
Previously I
had been unable to recognize with the desired clarity the
difference between this pure capital as the end result of
productive labor and a capital whose existence and essence
rests exclusively on speculation. For this I lacked the initial
inspiration, which had simply not come my way.
But now this was provided most amply by one of the various
gentlemen lecturing in the above-mentioned course: Gottfried
Feder.
For the first
time in my life I heard a principled discussion of
international stock exchange and loan capital.
Right after
listening to Feder's first lecture, the thought ran through my
head that I had now found the way to one of the most essential
premises for the foundation of a new party.
In my eyes
Feder's merit consisted in having established with ruthless
brutality the speculative and economic character of stock
exchange and loan capital, and in having exposed its eternal
and age-old presupposition which is interest. His arguments
were so sound in all fundamental questions that their critics
from the start questioned the theoretical correctness of the
idea less than they doubted the practical possibility of its
execution. But what in the eyes of others was a weakness of
Feder's arguments, in my eyes constituted their strength.
It is not the
task of a theoretician to determine the varying degrees in
which a cause can be realized, but to establish the cause as
such: that is to say: he must concern himself less with the
road than with the goal. In this, however, the basic
correctness of an idea is decisive and not the difficulty of
its execution. As soon as the theoretician attempts to take
account of so-called 'utility' and 'reality' instead of the
absolute truth, his work will cease to be a polar star of
seeking humanity and instead will become a prescription for
everyday life. The theoretician of a movement must lay down its
goal, the politician strive for its fulfillment. The thinking
of the one, therefore, will be determined by eternal truth, the
actions of the other more by the practical reality of the
moment. The greatness of the one lies in the absolute abstract
soundness of his idea, that of the other in his correct
attitude toward the given facts and their advantageous
application; and in this the theoretician's aim must serve as
his guiding star. While the touchstone for the stature of a
politician may be regarded as the success of his plans and
acts-in other words, the degree to which they become
reality-the realization of the theoretician's ultimate purpose
can never be realized, since, though human thought can
apprehend truths and set up crystal-clear aims, complete
fulfillment will fail due to the general imperfection and
inadequacy of man. The more abstractly correct and hence
powerful the idea will be, the more impossible remains its
complete fulfillment as long as it continues to depend on human
beings. Therefore, the stature of the theoretician must not be
measured by the fulfillment of his aims, but by their soundness
and the influence they have had on the development of humanity.
If this were not so, the founders of religion could not be
counted among the greatest men of this earth, since the
fulfillment of their ethical purposes will never be even
approximately complete. In its workings, even the religion of
love is only the weak reflection of the will of its exalted
founder; its significance, however, lies in the direction which
it attempted to give to a universal human development of
culture, ethics, and morality.
The enormous
difference between the tasks of the theoretician and the
politician is also the reason why a union of both in one person
is almost never found. This is especially true of the so-called
'successful' politician of small format, whose activity for the
most part is only an 'art of the possible,' as Bismarck rather
modestly characterized politics in general. The freer such a
'politician' keeps himself from great ideas, the easier and
often the more visible, but always the more rapid, his
successes will be. To be sure, they are dedicated to earthly
transitoriness and sometimes do not survive the death of their
fathers. The work of such politicians, by and large, is
unimportant nor posterity, since their successes in the present
are based solely on keeping at a distance all really great and
profound problems and ideas, which as such would only have been
of value for later generations.
The execution
of such aims, which have value and significance for the most
distant times, usually brings little reward to the man who
champions them and rarely finds understanding among the great
masses, who for the moment have more understanding for beer and
milk regulations than for farsighted plans for the future,
whose realization can only occur far hence, and whose benefits
will be reaped only by posterity.
Thus, from a
certain vanity, which is always a cousin of stupidity, the
great mass of politicians will keep far removed from all really
weighty plans for the future, in order not to lose the
momentary sympathy of the great mob. The success and
significance of such a politician lie then exclusively in the
present, and do not exist for posterity. But small minds are
little troubled by this; they are content.
With the
theoretician conditions are different. His importance lies
almost always solely in the future, for not seldom he is what
is described by the world as 'unworldly.' For if the art of the
politician is really the art of the possible, the theoretician
is one of those of whom it can be said that they are pleasing
to the gods only if they demand and want the impossible. He
will almost always have to renounce the recognition of the
present, but in return, provided his ideas are immortal, will
harvest the fame of posterity.
In long
periods of humanity, it may happen once that the politician is
wedded to the theoretician. The more profound this fusion,
however, the greater are the obstacles opposing the work of the
politician. He no longer works for necessities which will be
understood by the first best shopkeeper, but for aims which
only the fewest comprehend. Therefore, his life is torn by love
and hate. The protest of the present which does not understand
the man, struggles with the recognition of posterity-for which
he works.
For the greater a man's works for the future, the less the
present can comprehend them; the harder his fight, and the
rarer success. If, however, once in centuries success does come
to a man, perhaps in his latter days a faint beam of his coming
glory may shine upon him. To be sure, these great men are only
the Marathon runners of history; the laurel wreath of the
present touches only the brow of the dying hero.
Among them
must be counted the great warriors in this world who, though
not understood by the present, are nevertheless prepared to
carry the fight for their ideas and ideals to their end. They
are the men who some day will be closest to the heart of the
people; it almost seems as though every individual feels the
duty of compensating in the past for the sins which the present
once committed against the great. Their life and work are
followed with admiring gratitude and emotion, and especially in
days of gloom they have the power to raise up broken hearts and
despairing souls.
To them
belong, not only the truly great statesmen, but all other great
reformers as well. Beside Frederick the Great stands Martin
Luther as well as Richard Wagner.
As I listened
to Gottfried Feder's first lecture about the 'breaking of
interest slavery,' I knew at once that this was a theoretical
truth which would inevitably be of immense importance for the
future of the German people. The sharp separation of stock
exchange capital from the national economy offered the
possibility of opposing the internationalization of the German
economy without at the same time menacing the foundations of an
independent national self-maintenance by a struggle against all
capital. The development of Germany was much too clear in my
eyes for me not to know that the hardest battle would have to
be fought, not against hostile nations, but against
international capital. In Feder's lecture I sensed a powerful
slogan for this coming struggle.
And here
again later developments proved how correct our sentiment of
those days was. Today the know-it-alls among our
bourgeois politicians no longer laugh at us: today even they,
in so far as they are not conscious liars, see that
international stock exchange capital was not only the greatest
agitator for the War, but that especially, now that the fight
is over, it spares no effort to turn the peace into a hell.
The fight
against international finance and loan capital became the most
important point in the program of the German nation's struggle
for its economic independence and freedom.
As regards
the objections of so-called practical men, they can be answered
as follows: All fears regarding the terrible economic
consequences of the ' breaking of interest slavery ' are
superfluous; for, in the first place, the previous economic
prescriptions have turned out very badly for the German people,
and your positions on the problems of national self-maintenance
remind us strongly of the reports of similar experts in former
times, for example, those of the Bavarian medical board on the
question of introducing the railroad. It is well known that
none of the fears of this exalted corporation were later
realized: the travelers in the trains of the new 'steam horse '
did not get dizzy, the onlookers did not get sick, and the
board fences to hide the new invention from sight were given
up-only the board fences around the brains of all so-called
'experts' were preserved for posterity.
In the second
place, the following should be noted: every idea, even the
best, becomes a danger if it parades as a purpose in itself,
being in reality only a means to one. For me and all true
National Socialists there is but one doctrine: people and
fatherland.
What we must
fight for is to safeguard the existence and reproduction of our
race and our people, the sustenance of our children and the
purity of our blood, the freedom and independence of the
fatherland, so that our people may mature for the fulfillment
of the mission allotted it by the creator of the universe.
Every thought
and every idea, every doctrine and all knowledge, must serve
this purpose. And everything must be examined from this point
of view and used or rejected according to its utility. Then no
theory will stiffen into a dead doctrine, since it is life
alone that all things must serve.
Thus, it was
the conclusions of Gottfried Feder that caused me to delve into
the fundamentals of this field with which I had previously not
been very familiar.
I began to
study again, and now for the first time really achieved an
understanding of the content of the Jew Karl Marx's life
effort. Only now did his Capital become really intelligible to
me, and also the struggle of the Social Democracy against the
national economy, which aims only to prepare the ground for the
domination of truly international finance and stock exchange
capital.
