In society the human demand at most can be satisfied, while the egoistic
must always come short.
Because it can hardly escape anybody that the present shows no such
living interest in any question as in the "social," one has to direct
his gaze especially to society. Nay, if the interest felt in it were
less passionate and dazzled, people would not so much, in looking at
society, lose sight of the individuals in it, and would recognize that a
society cannot become new so long as those who form and constitute it
remain the old ones. If, _e. g._, there was to arise in the Jewish
people a society which should spread a new faith over the earth, these
apostles could in no case remain Pharisees.
As you are, so you present yourself, so you behave toward men: a
hypocrite as a hypocrite, a Christian as a Christian. Therefore the
character of a society is determined by the character of its members:
they are its creators. So much at least one must perceive even if one
were not willing to put to the test the concept "society" itself.
Ever far from letting _themselves_ come to their full development and
consequence, men have hitherto not been able to found their societies on
_themselves_; or rather, they have been able only to found "societies"
and to live in societies. The societies were always persons, powerful
persons, so-called "moral persons," _i. e._ ghosts, before which the
individual had the appropriate wheel in his head, the fear of ghosts. As
such ghosts they may most suitably be designated by the respective names
"people" and "peoplet": the people of the patriarchs, the people of the
Hellenes, etc., at last the--people of men, Mankind (Anacharsis Clootz
was enthusiastic for the "nation" of mankind); then every subdivision
of this "people," which could and must have its special societies, the
Spanish, French people, etc.; within it again classes, cities, in short
all kinds of corporations; lastly, tapering to the finest point, the
little people of the--_family_. Hence, instead of saying that the person
that walked as ghost in all societies hitherto has been the people,
there might also have been named the two extremes,--to wit, either
"mankind" or the "family," both the most "natural-born units." We choose
the word "people"[155] because its derivation has been brought into
connection with the Greek _polloi_, the "many" or "the masses," but
still more because "national efforts" are at present the order of the
day, and because even the newest mutineers have not yet shaken off this
deceptive person, although on the other hand the latter consideration
must give the preference to the expression "mankind," since on all sides
they are going in for enthusiasm over "mankind."
The people, then,--mankind or the family,--have hitherto, as it seems,
played history: no _egoistic_ interest was to come up in these
societies, but solely general ones, national or popular interests, class
interests, family interests, and "general human interests." But who has
brought to their fall the peoples whose decline history relates? Who but
the egoist, who was seeking _his_ satisfaction! If once an egoistic
interest crept in, the society was "corrupted" and moved toward its
dissolution, as Rome, _e. g._, proves with its highly developed system
of private rights, or Christianity with the incessantly-breaking-in
"rational self-determination," "self-consciousness," the "autonomy of
the spirit," etc.
The Christian people has produced two societies whose duration will keep
equal measure with the permanence of that people: these are the
societies _State_ and _Church_. Can they be called a union of egoists?
Do we in them pursue an egoistic, personal, own interest, or do we
pursue a popular (_i. e._ an interest of the Christian _people_), to
wit, a State and Church interest? Can I and may I be myself in them? May
I think and act as I will, may I reveal myself, live myself out, busy
myself? Must I not leave untouched the majesty of the State, the
sanctity of the Church?
Well, I may not do as I will. But shall I find in any society such an
unmeasured freedom of maying? Certainly no! Accordingly we might be
content? Not a bit! It is a different thing whether I rebound from an
ego or from a people, a generalization. There I am my opponent's
opponent, born his equal; here I am a despised opponent, bound and under
a guardian: there I stand man to man; here I am a schoolboy who can
accomplish nothing against his comrade because the latter has called
father and mother to aid and has crept under the apron, while I am well
scolded as an ill-bred brat, and I must not "argue": there I fight
against a bodily enemy; here against mankind, against a generalization,
against a "majesty," against a spook. But to me no majesty, nothing
sacred, is a limit; nothing that I know how to overpower. Only that
which I cannot overpower still limits my might; and I of limited might
am temporarily a limited I, not limited by the might _outside_ me, but
limited by my _own_ still deficient might, by my _own impotence_.
However, "the Guard dies, but does not surrender!" Above all, only a
bodily opponent!
I dare meet every foeman
Whom I can see and measure with my eye,
Whose mettle fires my mettle for the fight,--etc.
Many privileges have indeed been cancelled with time, but solely for the
sake of the common weal, of the State and the State's weal, by no means
for the strengthening of me. Vassalage, _e. g._, was abrogated only that
a single liege lord, the lord of the people, the monarchical power,
might be strengthened: vassalage under the one became yet more rigorous
thereby. Only in favor of the monarch, be he called "prince" or "law,"
have privileges fallen. In France the citizens are not, indeed, vassals
of the king, but are instead vassals of the "law" (the Charter).
_Subordination_ was retained, only the Christian State recognized that
man cannot serve two masters (the lord of the manor and the prince,
etc.); therefore one obtained all the prerogatives; now he can again
_place_ one above another, he can make "men in high place."
But of what concern to me is the common weal? The common weal as such is
not _my weal_, but only the furthest extremity of _self-renunciation_.
The common weal may cheer aloud while I must "down";[156] the State may
shine while I starve. In what lies the folly of the political liberals
but in their opposing the people to the government and talking of
people's rights? So there is the people going to be of age, etc. As if
one who has no mouth could be _muendig_![157] Only the individual is
able to be _muendig_. Thus the whole question of the liberty of the
press is turned upside down when it is laid claim to as a "right of the
people." It is only a right, or better the might, of the _individual_.
If a people has liberty of the press, then _I_, although in the midst of
this people, have it not; a liberty of the people is not _my_ liberty,
and the liberty of the press as a liberty of the people must have at its
side a press law directed against _me_.
This must be insisted on all around against the present-day efforts for
liberty:
Liberty of the _people_ is not _my_ liberty!
Let us admit these categories, liberty of the people and right of the
people: _e. g._ the right of the people that everybody may bear arms.
Does one not forfeit such a right? One cannot forfeit his own right, but
may well forfeit a right that belongs not to me but to the people. I may
be locked, up for the sake of the liberty of the people; I may, under
sentence, incur the loss of the right to bear arms.
Liberalism appears as the last attempt at a creation of the liberty of
the people, a liberty of the commune, of "society," of the general, of
mankind; the dream of a humanity, a people, a commune, a "society,"
that shall be of age.
A people cannot be free otherwise than at the individual's expense; for
it is not the individual that is the main point in this liberty, but the
people. The freer the people, the more bound the individual; the
Athenian people, precisely at its freest time, created ostracism,
banished the atheists, poisoned the most honest thinker.
How they do praise Socrates for his conscientiousness, which makes nun
resist the advice to get away from the dungeon! He is a fool that he
concedes to the Athenians a right to condemn him. Therefore it certainly
serves him right; why then does he remain standing on an equal footing
with the Athenians? Why does he not break with them? Had he known, and
been able to know, what he was, he would have conceded to such judges no
claim, no right. That _he did not escape_ was just his weakness, his
delusion of still having something in common with the Athenians, or the
opinion that he was a member, a mere member of this people. But he was
rather this people itself in person, and could only be his own judge.
There was no _judge over him_, as he himself had really pronounced a
public sentence on himself and rated himself worthy of the Prytaneum. He
should have stuck to that, and, as he had uttered no sentence of death
against himself, should have despised that of the Athenians too and
escaped. But he subordinated himself and recognized in the _people_ his
_judge_; he seemed little to himself before the majesty of the people.
That he subjected himself to _might_ (to which alone he could succumb)
as to a "right" was treason against himself: it was _virtue_. To
Christ, who, it is alleged, refrained from using the power over his
heavenly legions, the same scrupulousness is thereby ascribed by the
narrators. Luther did very well and wisely to have the safety of his
journey to Worms warranted to him in black and white, and Socrates
should have known that the Athenians were his _enemies_, he alone his
judge. The self-deception of a "reign of law," etc., should have given
way to the perception that the relation was a relation of _might_.
It was with pettifoggery and intrigues that Greek liberty ended. Why?
Because the ordinary Greeks could still less attain that logical
conclusion which not even their hero of thought, Socrates, was able to
draw. What then is pettifoggery but a way of utilizing something
established without doing away with it? I might add "for one's own
advantage," but, you see, that lies in "utilizing." Such pettifoggers
are the theologians who "wrest" and "force" God's word; what would they
have to wrest if it were not for the "established" Word of God? So those
liberals who only shake and wrest the "established order." They are all
perverters, like those perverters of the law. Socrates recognized law,
right; the Greeks constantly retained the authority of right and law. If
with this recognition they wanted nevertheless to assert their
advantage, every one his own, then they had to seek it in perversion of
the law, or intrigue. Alcibiades, an intriguer of genius, introduces the
period of Athenian "decay"; the Spartan Lysander and others show that
intrigue had become universally Greek. Greek _law_, on which the Greek
_States_ rested, had to be perverted and undermined by the egoists
within these States, and the _States_ went down that the _individuals_
might become free, the Greek people fell because the individuals cared
less for this people than for themselves. In general, all States,
constitutions, churches, etc., have sunk by the _secession_ of
individuals; for the individual is the irreconcilable enemy of every
_generality_, every _tie_, _i. e._ every fetter. Yet people fancy to
this day that man needs "sacred ties": he, the deadly enemy of every
"tie." The history of the world shows that no tie has yet remained
unrent, shows that man tirelessly defends himself against ties of every
sort; and yet, blinded, people think up new ties again and again, and
think, _e. g._, that they have arrived at the right one if one puts upon
them the tie of a so-called free constitution, a beautiful,
constitutional tie; decoration ribbons, the ties of confidence between
"---- ---- ----," do seem gradually to have become somewhat infirm, but
people have made no further progress than from apron-strings to garters
and collars.
_Everything sacred is a tie, a fetter._
Everything sacred is and must be perverted by perverters of the law;
therefore our present time has multitudes of such perverters in all
spheres. They are preparing the way for the break-up of law, for
lawlessness.
Poor Athenians who are accused of pettifoggery and sophistry! poor
Alcibiades, of intrigue! Why, that was just your best point, your first
step in freedom. Your Æschylus, Herodotus, etc., only wanted to have a
free Greek _people_; you were the first to surmise something of _your_
freedom.
A people represses those who tower above _its majesty_, by ostracism
against too-powerful citizens, by the Inquisition against the heretics
of the Church, by the--Inquisition against traitors in the State, etc.
For the people is concerned only with its self-assertion; it demands
"patriotic self-sacrifice" from everybody. To it, accordingly, every one
_in himself_ is indifferent, a nothing, and it cannot do, not even
suffer, what the individual and he alone must do,--to wit, _turn him to
account_. Every people, every State, is unjust toward the _egoist_.
As long as there still exists even one institution which the individual
may not dissolve, the ownness and self-appurtenance of Me is still very
remote. How can I, _e. g._, be free when I must bind myself by oath to a
constitution, a charter, a law, "vow body and soul" to my people? How
can I be my own when my faculties may develop only so far as they "do
not disturb the harmony of society" (Weitling)?
The fall of peoples and mankind will invite _me_ to my rise.
Listen, even as I am writing this, the bells begin to sound, that they
may jingle in for to-morrow the festival of the thousand years existence
of our dear Germany. Sound, sound its knell! You do sound solemn enough,
as if your tongue was moved by the presentiment that it is giving convoy
to a corpse. The German people and German peoples have behind them a
history of a thousand years: what a long life! O, go to rest, never to
rise again,--that all may become free whom you so long have held in
fetters.--The _people_ is dead.--Up with _me_!
O thou my much-tormented German people--what was thy torment? It was the
torment of a thought that cannot create itself a body, the torment of a
walking spirit that dissolves into nothing at every cock-crow and yet
pines for deliverance and fulfilment. In me too thou hast lived long,
thou dear--thought, thou dear--spook. Already I almost fancied I had
found the word of thy deliverance, discovered flesh and bones for the
wandering spirit; then I hear them sound, the bells that usher thee into
eternal rest; then the last hope fades out, then the notes of the last
love die away, then I depart from the desolate house of those who now
are dead and enter at the door of the--living one:
For only he who is alive is in the right.
Farewell, thou dream of so many millions; farewell, thou who hast
tyrannized over thy children for a thousand years!
To-morrow they carry thee to the grave; soon thy sisters, the peoples,
will follow thee. But, when they have all followed, then----mankind is
buried, and I am my own, I am the laughing heir!
* * * * *
The word _Gesellschaft_ (society) has its origin in the word _Sal_
(hall). If one hall encloses many persons, then the hall causes these
persons to be in society. They _are_ in society, and at most constitute
a parlor-society by talking in the traditional forms of parlor speech.
When it comes to real _intercourse_, this is to be regarded as
independent of society: it may occur or be lacking, without altering
the nature of what is named society. Those who are in the hall are a
society even as mute persons, or when they put each other off solely
with empty phrases of courtesy. Intercourse is mutuality, it is the
action, the _commercium_, of individuals; society is only community of
the hall, and even the statues of a museum-hall are in society, they are
"grouped." People are accustomed to say "they _haben inne_[158] this
hall in common," but the case is rather that the hall has us _inne_ or
in it. So far the natural signification of the word society. In this it
comes out that society is not generated by me and you, but by a third
factor which makes associates out of us two, and that it is just this
third factor that is the creative one, that which creates society.
Just so a prison society or prison companionship (those who enjoy[159]
the same prison). Here we already hit upon a third factor fuller of
significance than was that merely local one, the hall. Prison no longer
means a space only, but a space with express reference to its
inhabitants: for it is a prison only through being destined for
prisoners, without whom it would be a mere building. What gives a common
stamp to those who are gathered in it? Evidently the prison, since it is
only by means of the prison that they are prisoners. What, then,
determines the _manner of life_ of the prison society? The prison! What
determines their intercourse? The prison too, perhaps? Certainly they
can enter upon intercourse only as prisoners, _i. e._ only so far as
the prison laws allow it; but that _they themselves_ hold intercourse, I
with you, this the prison cannot bring to pass; on the contrary, it must
have an eye to guarding against such egoistic, purely personal
intercourse (and only as such is it really intercourse between me and
you). That we _jointly_ execute a job, run a machine, effectuate
anything in general,--for this a prison will indeed provide; but that I
forget that I am a prisoner, and engage in intercourse with you who
likewise disregard it, brings danger to the prison, and not only cannot
be caused by it, but must not even be permitted. For this reason the
saintly and moral-minded French chamber decides to introduce solitary
confinement, and other saints will do the like in order to cut off
"demoralizing intercourse." Imprisonment is the established and--sacred
condition, to injure which no attempt must be made. The slightest push
of that kind is punishable, as is every uprising against a sacred thing
by which man is to be charmed and chained.
Like the hall, the prison does form a society, a companionship, a
communion (_e. g._ communion of labor), but no _intercourse_, no
reciprocity, no _union_. On the contrary, every union in the prison
bears within it the dangerous seed of a "plot," which under favorable
circumstances might spring up and bear fruit.
Yet one does not usually enter the prison voluntarily, and seldom
remains in it voluntarily either, but cherishes the egoistic desire for
liberty. Here, therefore, it sooner becomes manifest that personal
intercourse is in hostile relations to the prison society and tends to
the dissolution of this very society, this joint incarceration.
Let us therefore look about for such communions as, it seems, we remain
in gladly and voluntarily, without wanting to endanger them by our
egoistic impulses.
As a communion of the required sort the _family_ offers itself in the
first place. Parents, husband and wife, children, brothers and sisters,
represent a whole or form a family, for the further widening of which
the collateral relatives also may be made to serve if taken into
account. The family is a true communion only when the law of the family,
piety[160] or family love, is observed by its members. A son to whom
parents, brothers, and sisters have become indifferent _has been_ a son;
for, as the sonship no longer shows itself efficacious, it has no
greater significance than the long-past connection of mother and child
by the navel-string. That one has once lived in this bodily juncture
cannot as a fact be undone; and so far one remains irrevocably this
mother's son and the brother of the rest of her children; but it would
come to a lasting connection only by lasting piety, this spirit of the
family. Individuals are members of a family in the full sense only when
they make the _persistence_ of the family their task; only as
_conservative_ do they keep aloof from doubting their basis, the family.
To every member of the family one thing must be fixed and
sacred,--_viz._, the family itself, or, more expressively, piety. That
the family is to _persist_ remains to its member, so long as he keeps
himself free from that egoism which is hostile to the family, an
unassailable truth. In a word:--If the family is sacred, then nobody who
belongs to it may secede from it; else he becomes a "criminal" against
the family: he may never pursue an interest hostile to the family,
_e. g._ form a misalliance. He who does this has "dishonored the
family," "put it to shame," etc.
Now, if in an individual the egoistic impulse has not force enough, he
complies and makes a marriage which suits the claims of the family,
takes a rank which harmonizes with its position, and the like; in short,
he "does honor to the family."
If, on the contrary, the egoistic blood flows fierily enough in his
veins, he prefers to become a "criminal" against the family and to throw
off its laws.
Which of the two lies nearer my heart, the good of the family or my
good? In innumerable cases both go peacefully together; the advantage of
the family is at the same time mine, and _vice versa_. Then it is hard
to decide whether I am thinking _selfishly_ or _for the common benefit_,
and perhaps I complacently flatter myself with my unselfishness. But
there comes the day when a necessity of choice makes me tremble, when I
have it in mind to dishonor my family tree, to affront parents,
brothers, and kindred. What then? Now it will appear how I am disposed
at the bottom of my heart; now it will be revealed whether piety ever
stood above egoism for me, now the selfish one can no longer skulk
behind the semblance of unselfishness. A wish rises in my soul, and,
growing from hour to hour, becomes a passion. To whom does it occur at
first blush that the slightest thought which may result adversely to the
spirit of the family (piety) bears within it a transgression against
this? nay, who at once, in the first moment, becomes completely
conscious of the matter? It happens so with Juliet in "Romeo and
Juliet." The unruly passion can at last no longer be tamed, and
undermines the building of piety. You will say, indeed, it is from
self-will that the family casts out of its bosom those wilful ones that
grant more of a hearing to their passion than to piety; the good
Protestants used the same excuse with much success against the
Catholics, and believed in it themselves. But it is just a subterfuge to
roll the fault off oneself, nothing more. The Catholics had regard for
the common bond of the church, and thrust those heretics from them only
because these did not have so much regard for the bond of the church as
to sacrifice their convictions to it; the former, therefore, held the
bond fast, because the bond, the Catholic (_i. e._ common and united)
church, was sacred to them; the latter, on the contrary, disregarded the
bond. Just so those who lack piety. They are not thrust out, but thrust
themselves out, prizing their passion, their wilfulness, higher than the
bond of the family.
But now sometimes a wish glimmers in a less passionate and wilful heart
than Juliet's. The pliable girl brings herself as a _sacrifice_ to the
peace of the family. One might say that here too selfishness prevailed,
for the decision came from the feeling that the pliable girl felt
herself more satisfied by the unity of the family than by the fulfilment
of her wish. That might be; but what if there remained a sure sign that
egoism had been sacrificed to piety? What if, even after the wish that
had been directed against the peace of the family was sacrificed, it
remained at least as a recollection of a "sacrifice" brought to a sacred
tie? What if the pliable girl were conscious of having left her
self-will unsatisfied and humbly subjected herself to a higher power?
Subjected and sacrificed, because the superstition of piety exercised
its dominion over her!
There egoism won, here piety wins and the egoistic heart bleeds; there
egoism was strong, here it was--weak. But the weak, as we have long
known, are the--unselfish. For them, for these its weak members, the
family cares, because they _belong_ to the family, do not belong to
themselves and care for themselves. This weakness Hegel, _e. g._,
praises when he wants to have match-making left to the choice of the
parents.
As a sacred communion to which, among the rest, the individual owes
obedience, the family has the judicial function too vested in it; such a
"family court" is described _e. g._ in the "Cabanis" of Wilibald Alexis.
There the father, in the name of the "family council," puts the
intractable son among the soldiers and thrusts him out of the family, in
order to cleanse the smirched family again by means of this act of
punishment.--The most consistent development of family responsibility is
contained in Chinese law, according to which the whole family has to
expiate the individual's fault.
To-day, however, the arm of family power seldom reaches far enough to
take seriously in hand the punishment of apostates (in most cases the
State protects even against disinheritance). The criminal against the
family (family-criminal) flees into the domain of the State and is free,
as the State-criminal who gets away to America is no longer reached by
the punishments of his State. He who has shamed his family, the
graceless son, is protected against the family's punishment because the
State, this protecting lord, takes away from family punishment its
"sacredness" and profanes it, decreeing that it is only--"revenge": it
restrains punishment, this sacred family right, because before its, the
State's, "sacredness" the subordinate sacredness of the family always
pales and loses its sanctity as soon as it comes in conflict with this
higher sacredness. Without the conflict, the State lets pass the lesser
sacredness of the family; but in the opposite case it even commands
crime against the family, charging, _e. g._, the son to refuse obedience
to his parents as soon as they want to beguile him to a crime against
the State.
Well, the egoist has broken the ties of the family and found in the
State a lord to shelter him against the grievously affronted spirit of
the family. But where has he run now? Straight into a new _society_, in
which his egoism is awaited by the same snares and nets that it has just
escaped. For the State is likewise a society, not a union; it is the
broadened _family_ ("Father of the Country--Mother of the
Country--children of the country").
* * * * *
What is called a State is a tissue and plexus of dependence and
adherence; it is a _belonging together_, a holding together, in which
those who are placed together fit themselves to each other, or, in
short, mutually depend on each other: it is the _order_ of this
_dependence_. Suppose the king, whose authority lends authority to all
down to the beadle, should vanish: still all in whom the will for order
was awake would keep order erect against the disorders of bestiality. If
disorder were victorious, the State would be at an end.
But is this thought of love, to fit ourselves to each other, to adhere
to each other and depend on each other, really capable of winning us?
According to this the State would be _love_ realized, the being for each
other and living for each other of all. Is not self-will being lost
while we attend to the will for order? Will people not be satisfied when
order is cared for by authority, _i. e._ when authority sees to it that
no one "gets in the way of" another; when, then, the _herd_ is
judiciously distributed or ordered? Why, then everything is in "the best
order," and it is this best order that is called--State!
Our societies and States _are_ without our _making_ them, are united
without our uniting, are predestined and established, or have an
independent standing[161] of their own, are the indissolubly established
against us egoists. The fight of the world to-day is, as it is said,
directed against the "established." Yet people are wont to misunderstand
this as if it were only that what is now established was to be
exchanged for another, a better, established system. But war might
rather be declared against establishment itself, _i. e._ the _State_,
not a particular State, not any such thing as the mere condition of the
State at the time; it is not another State (such as a "people's State")
that men aim at, but their _union_, uniting, this ever-fluid uniting of
everything standing.--A State exists even without my co-operation: I am
born in it, brought up in it, under obligations to it, and must "do it
homage."[162] It takes me up into its "favor,"[163] and I live by its
"grace." Thus the independent establishment of the State founds my lack
of independence; its condition as a "natural growth," its organism,
demands that my nature do not grow freely, but be cut to fit it. That
_it_ may be able to unfold in natural growth, it applies to me the
shears of "civilization"; it gives me an education and culture adapted
to it, not to me, and teaches me _e. g._ to respect the laws, to refrain
from injury to State property (_i. e._ private property), to reverence
divine and earthly highness, etc.; in short, it teaches me to
be--_unpunishable_, "sacrificing" my ownness to "sacredness" (everything
possible is sacred, _e. g._ property, others' life, etc.). In this
consists the sort of civilization and culture that the State is able to
give me: it brings me up to be a "serviceable instrument," a
"serviceable member of society."
This every State must do, the people's State as well as the absolute or
constitutional one. It must do so as long as we rest in the error that
it is an _I_, as which it then applies to itself the name of a "moral,
mystical, or political person." I, who really am I, must pull off this
lion-skin of the I from the stalking thistle-eater. What manifold
robbery have I not put up with in the history of the world! There I let
sun, moon, and stars, cats and crocodiles, receive the honor of ranking
as I; there Jehovah, Allah, and Our Father came and were invested with
the I; there families, tribes, peoples, and at last actually mankind,
came and were honored as I's; there the Church, the State, came with the
pretension to be I,--and I gazed calmly on all. What wonder if then
there was always a real I too that joined the company and affirmed in my
face that it was not my _you_ but my real _I_. Why, _the_ Son of Man
_par excellence_ had done the like; why should not a son of man do it
too? So I saw my I always above me and outside me, and could never
really come to myself.
I never believed in myself; I never believed in my present, I saw myself
only in the future. The boy believes he will be a proper I, a proper
fellow, only when he has become a man; the man thinks, only in the other
world will he be something proper. And, to enter more closely upon
reality at once, even the best are to-day still persuading each other
that one must have received into himself the State, his people, mankind,
and what not, in order to be a real I, a "free burgher," a "citizen," a
"free or true man"; they too see the truth and reality of me in the
reception of an alien I and devotion to it. And what sort of an I? An I
that is neither an I nor a you, a _fancied_ I, a spook.
While in the Middle Ages the church could well brook many States living
united in it, the States learned after the Reformation, especially after
the Thirty Years' War, to tolerate many churches (confessions) gathering
under one crown. But all States are religious and, as the case may be,
"Christian States," and make it their task to force the intractable, the
"egoists," under the bond of the unnatural, _i. e._ Christianize them.
All arrangements of the Christian State have the object of
_Christianizing the people_. Thus the court has the object of forcing
people to justice, the school that of forcing them to mental
culture,--in short, the object of protecting those who act Christianly
against those who act unchristianly, of bringing Christian action to
_dominion_, of making it _powerful_. Among these means of force the
State counted the _Church_, too, it demanded a--particular religion from
everybody. Dupin said lately against the clergy, "Instruction and
education belong to the State."
Certainly everything that regards the principle of morality is a State
affair. Hence it is that the Chinese State meddles so much in family
concerns, and one is nothing there if one is not first of all a good
child to his parents. Family concerns are altogether State concerns with
us too, only that our State--puts confidence in the families without
painful oversight; it holds the family bound by the marriage tie, and
this tie cannot be broken without it.
But that the State makes me responsible for my principles, and demands
certain ones from me, might make me ask, what concern has it with the
"wheel in my head" (principle)? Very much, for the State is the--_ruling
principle_. It is supposed that in divorce matters, in marriage law in
general, the question is of the proportion of rights between Church and
State. Rather, the question is of whether anything sacred is to rule
over man, be it called faith or ethical law (morality). The State
behaves as the same ruler that the Church was. The latter rests on
godliness, the former on morality.
People talk of the tolerance, the leaving opposite tendencies free, and
the like, by which civilized States are distinguished. Certainly some
are strong enough to look with complacency on even the most unrestrained
meetings, while others charge their catchpolls to go hunting for
tobacco-pipes. Yet for one State as for another the play of individuals
among themselves, their buzzing to and fro, their daily life, is an
_incident_ which it must be content to leave to themselves because it
can do nothing with this. Many, indeed, still strain out gnats and
swallow camels, while others are shrewder. Individuals are "freer" in
the latter, because less pestered. But _I_ am free in _no_ State. The
lauded tolerance of States is simply a tolerating of the "harmless," the
"not dangerous"; it is only elevation above pettymindedness, only a more
estimable, grander, prouder--despotism. A certain State seemed for a
while to mean to be pretty well elevated above _literary_ combats, which
might be carried on with all heat; England is elevated above _popular
turmoil_ and--tobacco-smoking. But woe to the literature that deals
blows at the State itself, woe to the mobs that "endanger" the State.
In that certain State they dream of a "free science," in England of a
"free popular life."
The State does let individuals _play_ as freely as possible, only they
must not be in _earnest_, must not forget _it_. Man must not carry on
intercourse with man _unconcernedly_, not without "superior oversight
and mediation." I must not execute all that I am able to, but only so
much as the State allows; I must not turn to account _my_ thoughts, nor
_my_ work, nor, in general, anything of mine.
The State always has the sole purpose to limit, tame, subordinate, the
individual--to make him subject to some _generality_ or other; it lasts
only so long as the individual is not all in all, and it is only the
clearly-marked _restriction of me_, my limitation, my slavery. Never
does a State aim to bring in the free activity of individuals, but
always that which is bound to the _purpose of the State_. Through the
State nothing _in common_ comes to pass either, as little as one can
call a piece of cloth the common work of all the individual parts of a
machine; it is rather the work of the whole machine as a unit, _machine
work_. In the same style everything is done by the _State machine_ too;
for it moves the clockwork of the individual minds, none of which follow
their own impulse. The State seeks to hinder every free activity by its
censorship, its supervision, its police, and holds this hindering to be
its duty, because it is in truth a duty of self-preservation. The State
wants to make something out of man, therefore there live in it only
_made_ men; every one who wants to be his own self is its opponent and
is nothing. "He is nothing" means as much as, The State does not make
use of him, grants him no position, no office, no trade, and the like.
E. Bauer,[164] in the "_Liberale Bestrebungen_," II, 50, is still
dreaming of a "government which, proceeding out of the people, can never
stand in opposition to it." He does indeed (p. 69) himself take back the
word "government": "In the republic no government at all obtains, but
only an executive authority. An authority which proceeds purely and
alone out of the people; which has not an independent power, independent
principles, independent officers, over against the people; but which has
its foundation, the fountain of its power and of its principles, in the
sole, supreme authority of the State, in the people. The concept
government, therefore, is not at all suitable in the people's State."
But the thing remains the same. That which has "proceeded, been founded,
sprung from the fountain" becomes something "independent" and, like a
child delivered from the womb, enters upon opposition at once. The
government, if it were nothing independent and opposing, would be
nothing at all.
"In the free State there is no government," etc. (p. 94). This surely
means that the people, when it is the _sovereign_, does not let itself
be conducted by a superior authority. Is it perchance different in
absolute monarchy? Is there there for the _sovereign_, perchance, a
government standing over him? _Over_ the sovereign, be he called prince
or people, there never stands a government: that is understood of
itself. But over _me_ there will stand a government in every "State," in
the absolute as well as in the republican or "free." _I_ am as badly off
in one as in the other.
The republic is nothing whatever but--absolute monarchy; for it makes no
difference whether the monarch is called prince or people, both being a
"majesty." Constitutionalism itself proves that nobody is able and
willing to be only an instrument. The ministers domineer over their
master the prince, the deputies over their master the people. Here,
then, the _parties_ at least are already free,--_videlicet_, the
office-holders' party (so-called people's party). The prince must
conform to the will of the ministers, the people dance to the pipe of
the chambers. Constitutionalism is further than the republic, because it
is the _State_ in incipient _dissolution_.
E. Bauer denies (p. 56) that the people is a "personality" in the
constitutional State; _per contra_, then, in the republic? Well, in the
constitutional State the people is--a _party_, and a party is surely a
"personality" if one is once resolved to talk of a "political" (p. 76)
moral person anyhow. The fact is that a moral person, be it called
people's party or people or even "the Lord," is in no wise a person, but
a spook.
Further, E. Bauer goes on (p. 69): "guardianship is the characteristic
of a government." Truly, still more that of a people and "people's
State"; it is the characteristic of all _dominion_. A people's State,
which "unites in itself all completeness of power," the "absolute
master," cannot let me become powerful. And what a chimera, to be no
longer willing to call the "people's officials" "servants, instruments,"
because they "execute the free, rational law-will of the people!" (p.
73). He thinks (p. 74): "Only by all official circles subordinating
themselves to the government's views can unity be brought into the
State"; but his "people's State" is to have "unity" too; how will a lack
of subordination be allowable there? subordination to the--people's
will.
"In the constitutional State it is the regent and his _disposition_ that
the whole structure of government rests on in the end." (_Ibid._, p.
130.) How would that be otherwise in the "people's State"? Shall _I_ not
there be governed by the people's _disposition_ too, and does it make a
difference _for me_ whether I see myself kept in dependence by the
prince's disposition or by the people's disposition, so-called "public
opinion"? If dependence means as much as "religious relation," as E.
Bauer rightly alleges, then in the people's State the people remains
_for me_ the superior power, the "majesty" (for God and prince have
their proper essence in "majesty") to which I stand in religious
relations.--Like the sovereign regent, the sovereign people too would be
reached by no _law_. E. Bauer's whole attempt comes to a _change of
masters_. Instead of wanting to make the _people_ free, he should have
had his mind on the sole realizable freedom, his own.
In the constitutional State _absolutism_ itself has at last come in
conflict with itself, as it has been shattered into a duality; the
government wants to be absolute, and the people wants to be absolute.
These two absolutes will wear out against each other.
E. Bauer inveighs against the determination of the regent by _birth_, by
_chance_. But, when "the people" have become "the sole power in the
State" (p. 132), have _we_ not then in it a master from _chance_? Why,
what is the people? The people has always been only the _body_ of the
government: it is many under one hat (a prince's hat) or many under one
constitution. And the constitution is the--prince. Princes and peoples
will persist so long as both do not _col_lapse, _i. e._ fall _together_.
If under one constitution there are many "peoples,"--_e. g._ in the
ancient Persian monarchy and to-day,--then these "peoples" rank only as
"provinces." For me the people is in any case an--accidental power, a
force of nature, an enemy that I must overcome.
What is one to think of under the name of an "organized" people
(_ibid._, p. 132)? A people "that no longer has a government," that
governs itself. In which, therefore, no ego stands out prominently; a
people organized by ostracism. The banishment of egos, ostracism, makes
the people autocrat.
If you speak of the people, you must speak of the prince; for the
people, if it is to be a subject[165] and make history, must, like
everything that acts, have a _head_, its "supreme head." Weitling sets
this forth in the "Trio," and Proudhon declares, "_une société, pour
ainsi dire acéphale, ne peut vivre_."[166]
The _vox populi_ is now always held up to us, and "public opinion" is to
rule our princes. Certainly the _vox populi_ is at the same time _vox
dei_; but is either of any use, and is not the _vox principis_ also _vox
dei_?
At this point the "Nationals" may be brought to mind. To demand of the
thirty-eight States of Germany that they shall act as _one nation_ can
only be put alongside the senseless desire that thirty-eight swarms of
bees, led by thirty-eight queen-bees, shall unite themselves into one
swarm. _Bees_ they all remain; but it is not the bees as bees that
belong together and can join themselves together, it is only that the
_subject_ bees are connected with the _ruling_ queens. Bees and peoples
are destitute of will, and the _instinct_ of their queens leads them.
If one were to point the bees to their beehood, in which at any rate
they are all equal to each other, one would be doing the same thing that
they are now doing so stormily in pointing the Germans to their
Germanhood. Why, Germanhood is just like beehood in this very thing,
that it bears in itself the necessity of cleavages and separations, yet
without pushing on to the last separation, where, with the complete
carrying through of the process of separating, its end appears: I mean,
to the separation of man from man. Germanhood does indeed divide itself
into different peoples and tribes, _i. e._ beehives; but the individual
who has the quality of being a German is still as powerless as the
isolated bee. And yet only individuals can enter into union with each
other, and all alliances and leagues of peoples are and remain
mechanical compoundings, because those who come together, at least so
far as the "peoples" are regarded as the ones that have come together,
are _destitute of will_. Only with the last separation does separation
itself end and change to unification.
Now the Nationals are exerting themselves to set up the abstract,
lifeless unity of beehood; but the self-owned are going to fight for the
unity willed by their own will, for union. This is the token of all
reactionary wishes, that they want to set up something _general_,
abstract, an empty, lifeless _concept_, in distinction from which the
self-owned aspire to relieve the robust, lively _particular_ from the
trashy burden of generalities. The reactionaries would be glad to smite
a _people_, a _nation_, forth from the earth; the self-owned have before
their eyes only themselves. In essentials the two efforts that are just
now the order of the day--to wit, the restoration of provincial rights
and of the old tribal divisions (Franks, Bavarians, etc., Lusatia,
etc.), and the restoration of the entire nationality--coincide in one.
But the Germans will come into unison, _i. e._ unite _themselves_, only
when they knock over their beehood as well as all the beehives; in other
words, when they are more than--Germans: only then can they form a
"German Union." They must not want to turn back into their nationality,
into the womb, in order to be born again, but let every one turn in _to
himself_. How ridiculously sentimental when one German grasps another's
hand and presses it with sacred awe because "he too is a German"! With
that he is something great! But this will certainly still be thought
touching as long as people are enthusiastic for "brotherliness," _i. e._
as long as they have a "_family disposition_." From the superstition of
"piety," from "brotherliness" or "childlikeness" or however else the
soft-hearted piety-phrases run,--from the _family spirit_,--the
Nationals, who want to have a great _family of Germans_, cannot liberate
themselves.
Aside from this, the so-called Nationals would only have to understand
themselves rightly in order to lift themselves out of their juncture
with the good-natured Teutomaniacs. For the uniting for material ends
and interests, which they demand of the Germans, comes to nothing else
than a voluntary union. Carriere, inspired, cries out,[167] "Railroads
are to the more penetrating eye the way to a _life of the people_ such
as has not yet anywhere appeared in such significance." Quite right, it
will be a life of the people that has nowhere appeared, because it is
not a--life of the people.--So Carriere then combats himself (p. 10):
"Pure humanity or manhood cannot be better represented than by a people
fulfilling its mission." Why, by this nationality only is represented.
"Washed-out generality is lower than the form complete in itself, which
is itself a whole, and lives as a living member of the truly general,
the organized." Why, the people is this very "washed-out generality,"
and it is only a man that is the "form complete in itself."
The impersonality of what they call "people, nation," is clear also from
this: that a people which wants to bring its I into view to the best of
its power puts at its head the ruler _without will_. It finds itself in
the alternative either to be subjected to a prince who realizes only
_himself, his individual_ pleasure--then it does not recognize in the
"absolute master" its own will, the so-called will of the people--, or
to seat on the throne a prince who gives effect to _no_ will of his
_own_--then it has a prince _without will_, whose place some ingenious
clockwork would perhaps fill just as well.--Therefore insight need go
only a step farther; then it becomes clear of itself that the I of the
people is an impersonal, "spiritual" power, the--law. The people's I,
therefore, is a--spook, not an I. I am I only by this, that I make
myself; _i. e._ that it is not another who makes me, but I must be my
own work. But how is it with this I of the people? _Chance_ plays it
into the people's hand, chance gives it this or that born lord,
accidents procure it the chosen one; he is not its (the "_sovereign_"
people's) product, as I am _my_ product. Conceive of one wanting to talk
you into believing that you were not your I, but Tom or Jack was your I!
But so it is with the people, and rightly. For the people has an I as
little as the eleven planets counted together have an _I_, though they
revolve around a common _centre_.
Bailly's utterance is representative of the slave-disposition that folks
manifest before the sovereign people, as before the prince. "I have,"
says he, "no longer any extra reason when the general reason has
pronounced itself. My first law was the nation's will; as soon as it had
assembled I knew nothing beyond its sovereign will." He would have no
"extra reason," and yet this extra reason alone accomplishes everything.
Just so Mirabeau inveighs in the words, "No power on earth has the
_right_ to say to the nation's representatives, It is my will!"
As with the Greeks, there is now a wish to make man a _zoon politicon_,
a citizen of the State or political man. So he ranked for a long time as
a "citizen of heaven." But the Greek fell into ignominy along with his
_State_, the citizen of heaven likewise falls with heaven; we, on the
other hand, are not willing to go down along with the _people_, the
nation and nationality, not willing to be merely _political_ men or
politicians. Since the Revolution they have striven to "make the people
happy," and in making the people happy, great, and the like, they make
Us unhappy: the people's good hap is--my mishap.
What empty talk the political liberals utter with emphatic decorum is
well seen again in Nauwerk's "On Taking Part in the State." There
complaint is made of those who are indifferent and do not take part, who
are not in the full sense citizens, and the author speaks as if one
could not be man at all if one did not take a lively part in State
affairs, _i. e._ if one were not a politician. In this he is right; for,
if the State ranks as the warder of everything "human," we can have
nothing human without taking part in it. But what does this make out
against the egoist? Nothing at all, because the egoist is to himself the
warder of the human, and has nothing to say to the State except "Get out
of my sunshine." Only when the State comes in contact with his ownness
does the egoist take an active interest in it. If the condition of the
State does not bear hard on the closet-philosopher, is he to occupy
himself with it because it is his "most sacred duty"? So long as the
State does according to his wish, what need has he to look up from his
studies? Let those who from an interest of their own want to have
conditions otherwise busy themselves with them. Not now, nor evermore,
will "sacred duty" bring folks to reflect about the State,--as little as
they become disciples of science, artists, etc., from "sacred duty."
Egoism alone can impel them to it, and will as soon as things have
become much worse. If you showed folks that their egoism demanded that
they busy themselves with State affairs, you would not have to call on
them long; if, on the other hand, you appeal to their love of fatherland
and the like, you will long preach to deaf hearts in behalf of this
"service of love." Certainly, in your sense the egoists will not
participate in State affairs at all.
Nauwerk utters a genuine liberal phrase on p. 16: "Man completely
fulfils his calling only in feeling and knowing himself as a member of
humanity, and being active as such. The individual cannot realize the
idea of _manhood_ if he does not stay himself upon all humanity, if he
does not draw his powers from it like Antæus."
In the same place it is said: "Man's relation to the _res publica_ is
degraded to a purely private matter by the theological view; is,
accordingly, made away with by denial." As if the political view did
otherwise with religion! There religion is a "private matter."
If, instead of "sacred duty," "man's destiny," the "calling to full
manhood," and similar commandments, it were held up to people that their
_self-interest_ was infringed on when they let everything in the State
go as it goes, then, without declamations, they would be addressed as
one will have to address them at the decisive moment if he wants to
attain his end. Instead of this, the theology-hating author says, "If
there has ever been a time when the _State_ laid claim to all that are
_hers_, such a time is ours.--The thinking man sees in participation in
the theory and practice of the State a _duty_, one of the most sacred
duties that rest upon him"--and then takes under closer consideration
the "unconditional necessity that everybody participate in the State."
He in whose head or heart or both the _State_ is seated, he who is
possessed by the State, or the _believer in the State_, is a politician,
and remains such to all eternity.
"The State is the most necessary means for the complete development of
mankind." It assuredly has been so as long as we wanted to develop
mankind; but, if we want to develop ourselves, it can be to us only a
means of hindrance.
Can State and people still be reformed and bettered now? As little as
the nobility, the clergy, the church, etc.: they can be abrogated,
annihilated, done away with, not reformed. Can I change a piece of
nonsense into sense by reforming it, or must I drop it outright?
Henceforth what is to be done is no longer about the _State_ (the form
of the State, etc.), but about me. With this all questions about the
prince's power, the constitution, etc., sink into their true abyss and
their true nothingness. I, this nothing, shall put forth my _creations_
from myself.
To the chapter of society belongs also "the party," whose praise has of
late been sung.
In the State the _party_ is current. "Party, party, who should not join
one!" But the individual is _unique_,[168] not a member of the party. He
unites freely, and separates freely again. The party is nothing but a
State in the State, and in this smaller bee-State "peace" is also to
rule just as in the greater. The very people who cry loudest that there
must be an _opposition_ in the State inveigh against every discord in
the party. A proof that they too want only a--State. All parties are
shattered not against the State, but against the ego.[169]
One hears nothing oftener now than the admonition to remain true to his
party; party men despise nothing so much as a mugwump. One must run with
his party through thick and thin, and unconditionally approve and
represent its chief principles. It does not indeed go quite so badly
here as with closed societies, because these bind their members to fixed
laws or statutes (_e. g._ the orders, the Society of Jesus, etc.). But
yet the party ceases to be a union at the same moment at which it makes
certain principles _binding_ and wants to have them assured against
attacks; but this moment is the very birth-act of the party. As party it
is already a _born society_, a dead union, an idea that has become
fixed. As party of absolutism it cannot will that its members should
doubt the irrefragable truth of this principle; they could cherish this
doubt only if they were egoistic enough to want still to be something
outside their party, _i. e._ non-partisans. Non-partisan they cannot be
as party-men, but only as egoists. If you are a Protestant and belong to
that party, you must only justify Protestantism, at most "purge" it, not
reject it; if you are a Christian and belong among men to the Christian
party, you cannot go beyond this as a member of this party, but only
when your egoism, _i. e._ non-partisanship, impels you to it. What
exertions the Christians, down to Hegel and the Communists, have put
forth to make their party strong! they stuck to it that Christianity
must contain the eternal truth, and that one needs only to get at it,
make sure of it, and justify it.
In short, the party cannot bear non-partisanship, and it is in this that
egoism appears. What matters the party to me? I shall find enough anyhow
who _unite_ with me without swearing allegiance to my flag.
He who passes over from one party to another is at once abused as a
"turncoat." Certainly _morality_ demands that one stand by his party,
and to become apostate from it is to spot oneself with the stain of
"faithlessness"; but ownness knows no commandment of "faithfulness,
adhesion, etc.," ownness permits everything, even apostasy, defection.
Unconsciously even the moral themselves let themselves be led by this
principle when they have to judge one who passes over to _their_
party,--nay, they are likely to be making proselytes; they should only
at the same time acquire a consciousness of the fact that one must
commit _immoral_ actions in order to commit his own,--_i. e._ here, that
one must break faith, yes, even his oath, in order to determine himself
instead of being determined by moral considerations. In the eyes of
people of strict moral judgment an apostate always shimmers in equivocal
colors, and will not easily obtain their confidence; for there sticks to
him the taint of "faithlessness," _i. e._ of an immorality. In the lower
man this view is found almost generally; advanced thinkers fall here
too, as always, into an uncertainty and bewilderment, and the
contradiction necessarily founded in the principle of morality does not,
on account of the confusion of their concepts, come clearly to their
consciousness. They do not venture to call the apostate immoral
downright, because they themselves entice to apostasy, to defection from
one religion to another, etc.; still, they cannot give up the standpoint
of morality either. And yet here the occasion was to be seized to step
outside of morality.
Are the Own or Unique[170] perchance a party? How could they be _own_ if
they were such as _belonged_ to a party?
Or is one to hold with no party? In the very act of joining them and
entering their circle one forms a _union_ with them that lasts as long
as party and I pursue one and the same goal. But to-day I still share
the party's tendency, and by to-morrow I can do so no longer and I
become "untrue" to it. The party has nothing _binding_ (obligatory) for
me, and I do not have respect for it; if it no longer pleases me, I
become its foe.
In every party that cares for itself and its persistence, the members
are unfree (or better, unown) in that degree, they lack egoism in that
degree, in which they serve this desire of the party. The independence
of the party conditions the lack of independence in the party-members.
A party, of whatever kind it may be, can never do without a _confession
of faith_. For those who belong to the party must _believe_ in its
principle, it must not be brought in doubt or put in question by them,
it must be the certain, indubitable thing for the party-member. That is:
One must belong to a party body and soul, else one is not truly a
party-man, but more or less--an egoist. Harbor a doubt of Christianity,
and you are already no longer a true Christian, you have lifted yourself
to the "effrontery" of putting a question beyond it and haling
Christianity before your egoistic judgment-seat. You have--_sinned_
against Christianity, this party cause (for it is surely not _e. g._ a
cause for the Jews, another party). But well for you if you do not let
yourself be affrighted: your effrontery helps you to ownness.
So then an egoist could never embrace a party or take up with a party?
Oh, yes, only he cannot let himself be embraced and taken up by the
party. For him the party remains all the time nothing but a _gathering_:
he is one of the party, he takes part.
* * * * *
The best State will clearly be that which has the most loyal citizens,
and the more the devoted mind for _legality_ is lost, so much the more
will the State, this system of morality, this moral life itself, be
diminished in force and quality. With the "good citizens" the good State
too perishes and dissolves into anarchy and lawlessness. "Respect for
the law!" By this cement the total of the State is held together. "The
law is _sacred_, and he who affronts it a _criminal_." Without crime no
State: the moral world--and this the State is--is crammed full of
scamps, cheats, liars, thieves, etc. Since the State is the "lordship of
law," its hierarchy, it follows that the egoist, in all cases where
_his_ advantage runs against the State's, can satisfy himself only by
crime.
The State cannot give up the claim that its _laws_ and ordinances are
_sacred_.[171] At this the individual ranks as the _unholy_[172]
(barbarian, natural man, "egoist") over against the State, exactly as he
was once regarded by the Church; before the individual the State takes
on the nimbus of a saint.[173] Thus it issues a law against dueling. Two
men who are both at one in this, that they are willing to stake their
life for a cause (no matter what), are not to be allowed this, because
the State will not have it: it imposes a penalty on it. Where is the
liberty of self-determination then? It is at once quite another
situation if, as _e. g._ in North America, society determines to let the
duelists bear certain evil _consequences_ of their act, _e. g._
withdrawal of the credit hitherto enjoyed. To refuse credit is
everybody's affair, and, if a society wants to withdraw it for this or
that reason, the man who is hit cannot therefore complain of
encroachment on his liberty: the society is simply availing itself of
its own liberty. That is no penalty for sin, no penalty for a _crime_.
The duel is no crime there, but only an act against which the society
adopts counter-measures, resolves on a _defence_. The State, on the
contrary, stamps the duel as a crime, _i. e._ as an injury to its sacred
law: it makes it a _criminal case_. The society leaves it to the
individual's decision whether he will draw upon himself evil
consequences and inconveniences by his mode of action, and hereby
recognizes his free decision; the State behaves in exactly the reverse
way, denying all right to the individual's decision and, instead,
ascribing the sole right to its own decision, the law of the State, so
that he who transgresses the State's commandment is looked upon as if he
were acting against God's commandment,--a view which likewise was once
maintained by the Church. Here God is the Holy in and of himself, and
the commandments of the Church, as of the State, are the commandments of
this Holy One, which he transmits to the world through his anointed and
Lords-by-the-Grace-of-God. If the Church had _deadly sins_, the State
has _capital crimes_; if the one had _heretics_, the other has
_traitors_; the one _ecclesiastical penalties_, the other _criminal
penalties_; the one _inquisitorial_ processes, the other _fiscal_; in
short, there sins, here crimes, there sinners, here criminals, there
inquisition and here--inquisition. Will the sanctity of the State not
fall like the Church's? The awe of its laws, the reverence for its
highness, the humility of its "subjects," will this remain? Will the
"saint's" face not be stripped of its adornment?
What a folly, to ask of the State's authority that it should enter into
an honorable fight with the individual, and, as they express themselves
in the matter of freedom of the press, share sun and wind equally! If
the State, this thought, is to be a _de facto_ power, it simply must be
a superior power against the individual. The State is "sacred" and must
not expose itself to the "impudent attacks" of individuals. If the State
is _sacred_, there must be censorship. The political liberals admit the
former and dispute the inference. But in any case they concede
repressive measures to it, for--they stick to this, that State is _more_
than the individual and exercises a justified revenge, called
punishment.
_Punishment_ has a meaning only when it is to afford expiation for the
injuring of a _sacred_ thing. If something is sacred to any one, he
certainly deserves punishment when he acts as its enemy. A man who lets
a man's life continue in existence _because_ to him it is sacred and he
has a _dread_ of touching it is simply a--_religious_ man.
Weitling lays crime at the door of "social disorder," and lives in the
expectation that under Communistic arrangements crimes will become
impossible, because the temptations to them, _e. g._ money, fall away.
As, however, his organized society is also exalted into a sacred and
inviolable one, he miscalculates in that good-hearted opinion. Such as
with their mouth professed allegiance to the Communistic society, but
worked underhand for its ruin, would not be lacking. Besides, Weitling
has to keep on with "curative means against the natural remainder of
human diseases and weaknesses," and "curative means" always announce to
begin with that individuals will be looked upon as "called" to a
particular "salvation" and hence treated according to the requirements
of this "human calling." _Curative means_ or _healing_ is only the
reverse side of _punishment_, the _theory of cure_ runs parallel with
the _theory of punishment_; if the latter sees in an action a sin
against right, the former takes it for a sin of the man _against
himself_, as a decadence from his health. But the correct thing is that
I regard it either as an action that _suits me_ or as one that _does not
suit me_, as hostile or friendly to _me_, _i. e._ that I treat it as my
_property_, which I cherish or demolish. "Crime" or "disease" are not
either of them an _egoistic_ view of the matter, _i. e._ a judgment
_starting from me_, but starting from _another_,--to wit, whether it
injures _right_, general right, or the _health_ partly of the individual
(the sick one), partly of the generality (_society_). "Crime" is treated
inexorably, "disease" with "loving gentleness, compassion," and the
like.
Punishment follows crime. If crime falls because the sacred vanishes,
punishment must not less be drawn into its fall; for it too has
significance only over against something sacred. Ecclesiastical
punishments have been abolished. Why? Because how one behaves toward the
"holy God" is his own affair. But, as this one punishment,
_ecclesiastical punishment_, has fallen, so all _punishments_ must fall.
As sin against the so-called God is a man's own affair, so that against
every kind of the so-called sacred. According to our theories of penal
law, with whose "improvement in conformity to the times" people are
tormenting themselves in vain, they want to _punish_ men for this or
that "inhumanity"; and therein they make the silliness of these
theories especially plain by their consistency, hanging the little
thieves and letting the big ones run. For injury to property they have
the house of correction, and for "violence to thought," suppression of
"natural rights of man," only--representations and petitions.
The criminal code has continued existence only through the sacred, and
perishes of itself if punishment is given up. Now they want to create
everywhere a new penal law, without indulging in a misgiving about
punishment itself. But it is exactly punishment that must make room for
satisfaction, which, again, cannot aim at satisfying right or justice,
but at procuring _us_ a satisfactory outcome. If one does to us what we
_will not put up with_, we break his power and bring our own to bear: we
satisfy _ourselves_ on him, and do not fall into the folly of wanting to
satisfy right (the spook). It is not the _sacred_ that is to defend
itself against man, but man against man; as _God_ too, you know, no
longer defends himself against man, God to whom formerly (and in part,
indeed, even now) all the "servants of God" offered their hands to
punish the blasphemer, as they still at this very day lend their hands
to the sacred. This devotion to the sacred brings it to pass also that,
without lively participation of one's own, one only delivers misdoers
into the hands of the police and courts: a non-participating making over
to the authorities, "who, of course, will best administer sacred
matters." The people is quite crazy for hounding the police on against
everything that seems to it to be immoral, often only unseemly, and this
popular rage for the moral protects the police institution more than
the government could in any way protect it.
In crime the egoist has hitherto asserted himself and mocked at the
sacred; the break with the sacred, or rather of the sacred, may become
general. A revolution never returns, but a mighty, reckless, shameless,
conscienceless, proud--_crime_, does it not rumble in distant thunders,
and do you not see how the sky grows presciently silent and gloomy?
* * * * *
He who refuses to spend his powers for such limited societies as family,
party, nation, is still always longing for a worthier society, and
thinks he has found the true object of love, perhaps, in "human society"
or "mankind," to sacrifice himself to which constitutes his honor; from
now on he "lives for and serves _mankind_."
_People_ is the name of the body, _State_ of the spirit, of that _ruling
person_ that has hitherto suppressed me. Some have wanted to transfigure
peoples and States by broadening them out to "mankind" and "general
reason"; but servitude would only become still more intense with this
widening, and philanthropists and humanitarians are as absolute masters
as politicians and diplomats.
Modern critics inveigh against religion because it sets God, the divine,
moral, etc., _outside_ of man, or makes them something objective, in
opposition to which the critics rather transfer these very subjects
_into_ man. But those critics none the less fall into the proper error
of religion, to give man a "destiny," in that they too want to have him
divine, human, and the like: morality, freedom and humanity, etc., are
his essence. And, like religion, politics too wanted to "_educate_" man,
to bring him to the realization of his "essence," his "destiny," to
_make_ something out of him,--to wit, a "true man," the one in the form
of the "true believer," the other in that of the "true citizen or
subject." In fact, it comes to the same whether one calls the destiny
the divine or human.
Under religion and politics man finds himself at the standpoint of
_should_: he _should_ become this and that, should be so and so. With
this postulate, this commandment, every one steps not only in front of
another but also in front of himself. Those critics say: You should be a
whole, free man. Thus they too stand in the temptation to proclaim a new
_religion_, to set up a new absolute, an ideal,--to wit, freedom. Men
_should_ be free. Then there might even arise _missionaries_ of freedom,
as Christianity, in the conviction that all were properly destined to
become Christians, sent out missionaries of the faith. Freedom would
then (as have hitherto faith as Church, morality as State) constitute
itself as a new _community_ and carry on a like "propaganda" therefrom.
Certainly no objection can be raised against a getting together; but so
much the more must one oppose every renewal of the old _care_ for us, of
culture directed toward an end,--in short, the principle of _making
something_ out of us, no matter whether Christians, subjects, or freemen
and men.
One may well say with Feuerbach and others that religion has displaced
the human from man, and has transferred it so into another world that,
unattainable, it went on with its own existence there as something
personal in itself, as a "God": but the error of religion is by no means
exhausted with this. One might very well let fall the personality of the
displaced human, might transform God into the divine, and still remain
religious. For the religious consists in discontent with the _present_
man, _i. e._ in the setting up of a "perfection" to be striven for, in
"man wrestling for his completion."[174] ("Ye therefore _should_ be
perfect as your father in heaven is perfect." Matt. 5. 48): it consists
in the fixation of an _ideal_, an absolute. Perfection is the "supreme
good," the _finis bonorum_; every one's ideal is the perfect man, the
true, the free man, etc.
The efforts of modern times aim to set up the ideal of the "free man."
If one could find it, there would be a new--religion, because a new
ideal; there would be a new longing, a new torment, a new devotion, a
new deity, a new contrition.
With the ideal of "absolute liberty," the same turmoil is made as with
everything absolute, and according to Hess, _e. g._, it is said to "be
realizable in absolute human society."[175] Nay, this realization is
immediately afterward styled a "vocation"; just so he then defines
liberty as "morality": the kingdom of "justice" (_i. e._ equality) and
"morality" (_i. e._ liberty) is to begin, etc.
Ridiculous is he who, while fellows of his tribe, family, nation, etc.,
rank high, is--nothing but "puffed up" over the merit of his fellows;
but blinded too is he who wants only to be "man." Neither of them puts
his worth in _exclusiveness_, but in _connectedness_, or in the "tie"
that conjoins him with others, in the ties of blood, of nationality, of
humanity.
Through the "Nationals" of to-day the conflict has again been stirred up
between those who think themselves to have merely human blood and human
ties of blood, and the others who brag of their special blood and the
special ties of blood.
If we disregard the fact that pride may mean conceit, and take it for
consciousness alone, there is found to be a vast difference between
pride in "belonging to" a nation and therefore being its property, and
that in calling a nationality one's property. Nationality is my quality,
but the nation my owner and mistress. If you have bodily strength, you
can apply it at a suitable place and have a self-consciousness or pride
of it; if, on the contrary, your strong body has you, then it pricks you
everywhere, and at the most unsuitable place, to show its strength: you
can give nobody your hand without squeezing his.
The perception that one is more than a member of the family, more than a
fellow of the tribe, more than an individual of the people, etc., has
finally led to saying, one is more than all this because one is man, or,
the man is more than the Jew, German, etc. "Therefore be every one
wholly and solely--man!" Could one not rather say: Because we are more
than what has been stated, therefore we will be this, as well as that
"more" also? Man and German, then, man and Guelph, etc.? The Nationals
are in the right; one cannot deny his nationality: and the
humanitarians are in the right; one must not remain in the narrowness of
the national. In _uniqueness_[176] the contradiction is solved; the
national is my quality. But I am not swallowed up in my quality,--as the
human too is my quality, but I give to man his existence first through
my uniqueness.
History seeks for Man: but he is I, you, we. Sought as a mysterious
_essence_, as the divine, first as _God_, then as _Man_ (humanity,
humaneness, and mankind), he is found as the individual, the finite, the
unique one.
I am owner of humanity, am humanity, and do nothing for the good of
another humanity. Fool, you who are a unique humanity, that you make a
merit of wanting to live for another than you are.
The hitherto-considered relation of me to the _world of men_ offers such
a wealth of phenomena that it will have to be taken up again and again
on other occasions, but here, where it was only to have its chief
outlines made clear to the eye, it must be broken off to make place for
an apprehension of two other sides toward which it radiates. For, as I
find myself in relation not merely to men so far as they present in
themselves the concept "man" or are children of men (children of _Man_,
as children of God are spoken of), but also to that which they have of
man and call their own, and as therefore I relate myself not only to
that which they _are_ through man, but also to their human
_possessions_: so, besides the world of men, the world of the senses
and of ideas will have to be included in our survey, and somewhat said
of what men call their own of sensuous goods, and of spiritual as well.
According as one had developed and clearly grasped the concept of man,
he gave it to us to respect as this or that _person of respect_, and
from the broadest understanding of this concept there proceeded at last
the command "to respect Man in every one." But, if I respect Man, my
respect must likewise extend to the human, or what is Man's.
Men have somewhat of their _own_, and _I_ am to recognize this own and
hold it sacred. Their own consists partly in outward, partly in inward
_possessions_. The former are things, the latter spiritualities,
thoughts, convictions, noble feelings, etc. But I am always to respect
only _rightful_ or _human_ possessions; the wrongful and unhuman I need
not spare, for only _Man's_ own is men's real own. An inward possession
of this sort is, _e. g._, religion; because _religion_ is free, _i. e._
is Man's, _I_ must not strike at it. Just so _honor_ is an inward
possession; it is free and must not be struck at by me. (Action for
insult, caricatures, etc.) Religion and honor are "spiritual property."
In tangible property the person stands foremost: my person is my first
property. Hence freedom of the person; but only the _rightful_ or human
person is free, the other is locked up. Your life is your property; but
it is sacred for men only if it is not that of an inhuman monster.
What a man as such cannot defend of bodily goods, we may take from him:
this is the meaning of competition, of freedom of occupation. What he
cannot defend of spiritual goods falls a prey to us likewise: so far
goes the liberty of discussion, of science, of criticism.
But _consecrated_ goods are inviolable. Consecrated and guaranteed by
whom? Proximately by the State, society, but properly by man or the
"concept," the "concept of the thing": for the concept of consecrated
goods is this, that they are truly human, or rather that the holder
possesses them as man and not as un-man.[177]
On the spiritual side man's faith is such goods, his honor, his moral
feeling,--yes, his feeling of decency, modesty, etc. Actions (speeches,
writings) that touch honor are punishable; attacks on "the foundation of
all religion"; attacks on political faith; in short, attacks on
everything that a man "rightly" has.
How far critical liberalism would extend, the sanctity of goods,--on
this point it has not yet made any pronouncement, and doubtless fancies
itself to be ill-disposed toward all sanctity; but, as it combats
egoism, it must set limits to it, and must not let the un-man pounce on
the human. To its theoretical contempt for the "masses" there must
correspond a practical snub if it should get into power.
What extension the concept "man" receives, and what comes to the
individual man through it,--what, therefore, man and the human are,--on
this point the various grades of liberalism differ, and the political,
the social, the humane man are each always claiming more than the other
for "man." He who has best grasped this concept knows best what is
"man's." The State still grasps this concept in political restriction,
society in social; mankind, so it is said, is the first to comprehend it
entirely, or "the history of mankind develops it." But, if "man is
discovered," then we know also what pertains to man as his own, man's
property, the human.
But let the individual man lay claim to ever so many rights because Man
or the concept man "entitles" him to them, _i. e._ because his being man
does it: what do _I_ care for his right and his claim? If he has his
right only from Man and does not have it from _me_, then for _me_ he has
no right. His life, _e. g._, counts to _me_ only for what it is _worth
to me_. I respect neither a so-called right of property (or his claim to
tangible goods) nor yet his right to the "sanctuary of his inner nature"
(or his right to have the spiritual goods and divinities, his gods,
remain unaggrieved). His goods, the sensuous as well as the spiritual,
are _mine_, and I dispose of them as proprietor, in the measure of
my--might.
In the _property question_ lies a broader meaning than the limited
statement of the question allows to be brought out. Referred solely to
what men call our possessions, it is capable of no solution; the
decision is to be found only in him "from whom we have everything."
Property depends on the _owner_.
The Revolution directed its weapons against everything which came "from
the grace of God," _e. g._, against divine right, in whose place the
human was confirmed. To that which is granted by the grace of God,
there is opposed that which is derived "from the essence of man."
Now, as men's relation to each other, in opposition to the religious
dogma which commands a "Love one another for God's sake," had to receive
its human position by a "Love each other for man's sake," so the
revolutionary teaching could not do otherwise than, first as to what
concerns the relation of men to the things of this world, settle it that
the world, which hitherto was arranged according to God's ordinance,
henceforth belongs to "Man."
The world belongs to "Man," and is to be respected by me as his
property.
Property is what is mine!
Property in the civic sense means _sacred_ property, such that I must
_respect_ your property. "Respect for property!" Hence the politicians
would like to have every one possess his little bit of property, and
they have in part brought about an incredible parcellation by this
effort. Each must have his bone on which he may find something to bite.
The position of affairs is different in the egoistic sense. I do not
step shyly back from your property, but look upon it always as _my_
property, in which I need to "respect" nothing. Pray do the like with
what you call my property!
With this view we shall most easily come to an understanding with each
other.
The political liberals are anxious that, if possible, all servitudes be
dissolved, and every one be free lord on his ground, even if this ground
has only so much area as can have its requirements adequately filled by
the manure of one person. (The farmer in the story married even in his
old age "that he might profit by his wife's dung.") Be it ever so
little, if one only has somewhat of his own,--to wit, a _respected_
property! The more such owners, such cotters,[178] the more "free people
and good patriots" has the State.
Political liberalism, like everything religious, counts on _respect_,
humaneness, the virtues of love. Therefore does it live in incessant
vexation. For in practice people respect nothing, and every day the
small possessions are bought up again by greater proprietors, and the
"free people" change into day-laborers.
If, on the contrary, the "small proprietors" had reflected that the
great property was also theirs, they would not have respectfully shut
themselves out from it, and would not have been shut out.
Property as the civic liberals understand it deserves the attacks of the
Communists and Proudhon: it is untenable, because the civic proprietor
is in truth nothing but a propertyless man, one who is everywhere _shut
out_. Instead of owning the world, as he might, he does not own even the
paltry point on which he turns around.
Proudhon wants not the _propriétaire_ but the _possesseur_ or
_usufruitier_.[179] What does that mean? He wants no one to own the
land; but the benefit of it--even though one were allowed only the
hundredth part of this benefit, this fruit--is at any rate one's
property, which he can dispose of at will. He who has only the benefit
of a field is assuredly not the proprietor of it; still less he who, as
Proudhon would have it, must give up so much of this benefit as is not
required for his wants; but he is the proprietor of the share that is
left him. Proudhon, therefore, denies only such and such property, not
_property_ itself. If we want no longer to leave the land to the landed
proprietors, but to appropriate it to _ourselves_, we unite ourselves to
this end, form a union, a _société_, that makes _itself_ proprietor; if
we have good luck in this, then those persons cease to be landed
proprietors. And, as from the land, so we can drive them out of many
another property yet, in order to make it _our_ property, the property
of the--_conquerors_. The conquerors form a society which one may
imagine so great that it by degrees embraces all humanity; but so-called
humanity too is as such only a thought (spook); the individuals are its
reality. And these individuals as a collective mass will treat land and
earth not less arbitrarily than an isolated individual or so-called
_propriétaire_. Even so, therefore, _property_ remains standing, and
that as "exclusive" too, in that _humanity_, this great society,
excludes the _individual_ from its property (perhaps only leases to him,
gives him as a fief, a piece of it) as it besides excludes everything
that is not humanity, _e. g._ does not allow animals to have
property.--So too it will remain, and will grow to be. That in which
_all_ want to have a _share_ will be withdrawn from that individual who
wants to have it for himself alone: it is made a _common estate_. As a
_common estate_ every one has his _share_ in it, and this share is his
_property_. Why, so in our old relations a house which belongs to five
heirs is their common estate; but the fifth part of the revenue is each
one's property. Proudhon might spare his prolix pathos if he said:
"There are some things that belong only to a few, and to which we others
will from now on lay claim or--siege. Let us take them, because one
comes to property by taking, and the property of which for the present
we are still deprived came to the proprietors likewise only by taking.
It can be utilized better if it is in the hands of _us all_ than if the
few control it. Let us therefore associate ourselves for the purpose of
this robbery (_vol_)."--Instead of this, he tries to get us to believe
that society is the original possessor and the sole proprietor, of
imprescriptible right; against it the so-called proprietors have become
thieves (_La propriété c'est le vol_); if it now deprives of his
property the present proprietor, it robs him of nothing, as it is only
availing itself of its imprescriptible right.--So far one comes with the
spook of society as a _moral person_. On the contrary, what man can
obtain belongs to him: the world belongs to _me_. Do you say anything
else by your opposite proposition, "The world belongs to _all_"? All are
I and again I, etc. But you make out of the "all" a spook, and make it
sacred, so that then the "all" become the individual's fearful _master_.
Then the ghost of "right" places itself on their side.
Proudhon, like the Communists, fights against _egoism_. Therefore they
are continuations and consistent carryings-out of the Christian
principle, the principle of love, of sacrifice for something general,
something alien. They complete in property, _e. g._, only what has long
been extant as a matter of fact,--_viz._, the propertylessness of the
individual. When the law says, _Ad reges potestas omnium pertinet, ad
singulos proprietas; omnia rex imperio possidet, singuli dominio_,
this means: The king is proprietor, for he alone can control and
dispose of "everything," he has _potestas_ and _imperium_ over it.
The Communists make this clearer, transferring that _imperium_ to the
"society of all." Therefore: Because enemies of egoism, they are on
that account--Christians, or, more generally speaking, religious men,
believers in ghosts, dependents, servants of some generality (God,
society, etc.). In this too Proudhon is like the Christians, that he
ascribes to God that which he denies to men. He names him (_e. g._, page
90) the Propriétaire of the earth. Herewith he proves that he cannot
think away the _proprietor as such_; he comes to a proprietor at last,
but removes him to the other world.
Neither God nor Man ("human society") is proprietor, but the individual.
* * * * *
Proudhon (Weitling too) thinks he is telling the worst about property
when he calls it theft (_vol_). Passing quite over the embarrassing
question, what well-founded objection could be made against theft, we
only ask: Is the concept "theft" at all possible unless one allows
validity to the concept "property"? How can one steal if property is not
already extant? What belongs to no one cannot be _stolen_; the water
that one draws out of the sea he does _not steal_. Accordingly property
is not theft, but a theft becomes possible only through property.
Weitling has to come to this too, as he does regard everything as the
_property of all_: if something is "the property of all," then indeed
the individual who appropriates it to himself steals.
Private property lives by grace of the _law_. Only in the law has it its
warrant--for possession is not yet property, it becomes "mine" only by
assent of the law--; it is not a fact, not _un fait_ as Proudhon thinks,
but a fiction, a thought. This is legal property, legitimate property,
guaranteed property. It is mine not through _me_ but through the--_law_.
Nevertheless, property is the expression for _unlimited dominion_ over
somewhat (thing, beast, man) which "I can judge and dispose of as seems
good to me." According to Roman law, indeed, _jus utendi et abutendi re
sua, quatenus juris ratio patitur_, an _exclusive_ and _unlimited
right_; but property is conditioned by might. What I have in my power,
that is my own. So long as I assert myself as holder, I am the
proprietor of the thing; if it gets away from me again, no matter by
what power, _e. g._ through my recognition of a title of others to the
thing,--then the property is extinct. Thus property and possession
coincide. It is not a right lying outside my might that legitimizes me,
but solely my might: if I no longer have this, the thing vanishes away
from me. When the Romans no longer had any might against the Germans,
the world-empire of Rome _belonged_ to the latter, and it would sound
ridiculous to insist that the Romans had nevertheless remained properly
the proprietors. Whoever knows how to take and to defend the thing, to
him it belongs till it is again taken from him, as liberty belongs to
him who _takes_ it.--
Only might decides about property, and, as the State (no matter whether
State of well-to-do citizens or of ragamuffins or of men in the
absolute) is the sole mighty one, it alone is proprietor; I, the
unique,[180] have nothing, and am only enfeoffed, am vassal and, as
such, servitor. Under the dominion of the State there is no property of
_mine_.
I want to raise the value of myself, the value of ownness, and should I
cheapen property? No, as I was not respected hitherto because people,
mankind, and a thousand other generalities were put higher, so property
too has to this day not yet been recognized in its full value. Property
too was only the property of a ghost, _e. g._ the people's property; my
whole existence "belonged to the fatherland": _I_ belonged to the
fatherland, the people, the State, and therefore also everything that I
called _my own_. It is demanded of States that they make away with
pauperism. It seems to me this is asking that the State should cut off
its own head and lay it at its feet; for so long as the State is the ego
the individual ego must remain a poor devil, a non-ego. The State has an
interest only in being itself rich; whether Michael is rich and Peter
poor is alike to it; Peter might also be rich and Michael poor. It looks
on indifferently as one grows poor and the other rich, unruffled by this
alternation. As _individuals_ they are really equal before its face; in
this it is just: before it both of them are--nothing, as we "are
altogether sinners before God"; on the other hand, it has a very great
interest in this, that those individuals who make it their ego should
have a part in its wealth; it makes them partakers in _its property_.
Through property, with which it rewards the individuals, it tames them;
but this remains _its_ property, and every one has the usufruct of it
only so long as he bears in himself the ego of the State, or is a "loyal
member of society"; in the opposite case the property is confiscated, or
made to melt away by vexatious lawsuits. The property, then, is and
remains _State property_, not property of the ego. That the State does
not arbitrarily deprive the individual of what he has from the State
means simply that the State does not rob itself. He who is a State-ego,
_i. e._ a good citizen or subject, holds his fief undisturbed as _such
an ego_, not as being an ego of his own. According to the code, property
is what I call mine "by virtue of God and law." But it is mine by virtue
of God and law only so long as--the State has nothing against it.
In expropriations, disarmaments, and the like (as, _e. g._, the
exchequer confiscates inheritances if the heirs do not put in an
appearance early enough) how plainly the else-veiled principle that only
the _people_, "the State," is proprietor, while the individual is
feoffee, strikes the eye!
The State, I mean to say, cannot intend that anybody should _for his own
sake_ have property or actually be rich, nay, even well-to-do; it can
acknowledge nothing, grant nothing to me as me. The State cannot check
pauperism, because the poverty of possession is a poverty of me. He who
_is_ nothing but what chance or another--to wit, the State--makes out
of him also _has_ quite rightly nothing but what another gives him. And
this other will give him only what he _deserves_, _i. e._ what he is
worth by _service_. It is not he that realizes a value from himself; the
State realizes a value from him.
National economy busies itself much with this subject. It lies far out
beyond the "national," however, and goes beyond the concepts and horizon
of the State, which knows only State property and can distribute nothing
else. For this reason it binds the possession of property to
_conditions_,--as it binds everything to them, _e. g._ marriage,
allowing validity only to the marriage sanctioned by it, and wresting
this out of my power. But property is _my_ property only when I hold it
_unconditionally_: only I, as _unconditioned_ ego, have property, enter
a relation of love, carry on free trade.
The State has no anxiety about me and mine, but about itself and its: I
count for something to it only as _its child_, as "a son of the
country"; as _ego_ I am nothing at all for it. For the State's
understanding, what befalls me as ego is something accidental, my wealth
as well as my impoverishment. But, if I with all that is mine am an
accident in the State's eyes, this proves that it cannot comprehend
_me_: _I_ go beyond its concepts, or, its understanding is too limited
to comprehend me. Therefore it cannot do anything for me either.
Pauperism is the _valuelessness of me_, the phenomenon that I cannot
realize value from myself. For this reason State and pauperism are one
and the same. The State does not let me come to my value, and continues
in existence only through my valuelessness: it is forever intent on
_getting benefit_ from me, _i. e._ exploiting me, turning me to account,
using me up, even if the use it gets from me consists only in my
supplying a _proles_ (_prolétariat_); it wants me to be "its creature."
Pauperism can be removed only when I as ego _realize value_ from myself,
when I give my own self value, and make my price myself. I must rise in
revolt to rise in the world.
What I produce, flour, linen, or iron and coal, which I toilsomely win
from the earth, etc., is _my_ work that I want to realize value from.
But then I may long complain that I am not paid for my work according to
its value: the payer will not listen to me, and the State likewise will
maintain an apathetic attitude so long as it does not think it must
"appease" me that _I_ may not break out with my dreaded might. But this
"appeasing" will be all, and, if it comes into my head to ask for more,
the State turns against me with all the force of its lion-paws and
eagle-claws: for it is the king of beasts, it is lion and eagle. If I
refuse to be content with the price that it fixes for my ware and labor,
if I rather aspire to determine the price of my ware myself, _i. e._ "to
pay myself," in the first place I come into a conflict with the buyers
of the ware. If this were stilled by a mutual understanding, the State
would not readily make objections; for how individuals get along with
each other troubles it little, so long as therein they do not get in its
way. Its damage and its danger begin only when they do not agree, but,
in the absence of a settlement, take each other by the hair. The State
cannot endure that man stand in a direct relation to man; it must step
between as--_mediator_, must--_intervene_. What Christ was, what the
saints, the Church were, the State has become,--to wit, "mediator." It
tears man from man to put itself between them as "spirit." The laborers
who ask for higher pay are treated as criminals as soon as they want to
_compel_ it. What are they to do? Without compulsion they don't get it,
and in compulsion the State sees a self-help, a determination of price
by the ego, a genuine, free realization of value from his property,
which it cannot admit of. What then are the laborers to do? Look to
themselves and ask nothing about the State?-- --
But, as is the situation with regard to my material work, so it is with
my intellectual too. The State allows me to realize value from all my
thoughts and to find customers for them (I do realize value from them,
_e. g._, in the very fact that they bring me honor from the listeners,
and the like); but only so long as my thoughts are--_its_ thoughts. If,
on the other hand, I harbor thoughts that it cannot approve (_i. e._
make its own), then it does not allow me at all to realize value from
them, to bring them into _exchange_, into _commerce_. _My_ thoughts are
free only if they are granted to me by the State's _grace_, _i. e._ if
they are the State's thoughts. It lets me philosophize freely only so
far as I approve myself a "philosopher of State"; _against_ the State I
must not philosophize, gladly as it tolerates my helping it out of its
"deficiencies," "furthering" it.--Therefore, as I may behave only as an
ego most graciously permitted by the State, provided with its
testimonial of legitimacy and police pass, so too it is not granted me
to realize value from what is mine, unless this proves to be its, which
I hold as fief from it. My ways must be its ways, else it distrains me;
my thoughts its thoughts, else it stops my mouth.
The State has nothing to be more afraid of than the value of me, and
nothing must it more carefully guard against than every occasion that
offers itself to me for _realizing value_ from myself. _I_ am the deadly
enemy of the State, which always hovers between the alternatives, it or
I. Therefore it strictly insists not only on not letting _me_ have a
standing, but also on keeping down what is _mine_. In the State there is
no--property, _i. e._ no property of the individual, but only State
property. Only through the State have I what I have, as I am only
through it what I am. My private property is only that which the State
leaves to me of _its, cutting off_ others from it (depriving them,
making it private); it is State property.
But, in opposition to the State, I feel more and more clearly that there
is still left me a great might, the might over myself, _i. e._ over
everything that pertains only to me and that _exists_ only in being my
own.
What do I do if my ways are no longer its ways, my thoughts no longer
its thoughts? I look to myself, and ask nothing about it! In _my_
thoughts, which I get sanctioned by no assent, grant, or grace, I have
my real property, a property with which I can trade. For as mine they
are my _creatures_, and I am in a position to give them away in return
for _other_ thoughts: I give them up and take in exchange for them
others, which then are my new purchased property.
What then is _my_ property? Nothing but what is in my _power_! To what
property am I entitled? To every property to which I--_empower_
myself.[181] I give myself the right of property in taking property to
myself, or giving myself the proprietor's _power_, full power,
empowerment.
Everything over which I have might that cannot be torn from me remains
my property; well, then let might decide about property, and I will
expect everything from my might! Alien might, might that I leave to
another, makes me an owned slave: then let my own might make me an
owner. Let me then withdraw the might that I have conceded to others out
of ignorance regarding the strength of my _own_ might! Let me say to
myself, what my might reaches to is my property; and let me claim as
property everything that I feel myself strong enough to attain, and let
me extend my actual property as far as _I_ entitle, _i. e._--empower,
myself to take.
Here egoism, selfishness, must decide; not the principle of _love,_ not
love-motives like mercy, gentleness, good-nature, or even justice and
equity (for _justitia_ too is a phenomenon of--love, a product of love):
love knows only _sacrifices_ and demands "self-sacrifice."
Egoism does not think of sacrificing anything, giving away anything that
it wants; it simply decides, What I want I must have and will procure.
All attempts to enact rational laws about property have put out from the
bay of _love_ into a desolate sea of regulations. Even Socialism and
Communism cannot be excepted from this. Every one is to be provided with
adequate means, for which it is little to the point whether one
socialistically finds them still in a personal property, or
communistically draws them from the community of goods. The individual's
mind in this remains the same; it remains a mind of dependence. The
distributing _board of equity_ lets me have only what the sense of
equity, its _loving_ care for all, prescribes. For me, the individual,
there lies no less of a check in _collective wealth_ than in that of
_individual others_; neither that is mine, nor this: whether the wealth
belongs to the collectivity, which confers part of it on me, or to
individual possessors, is for me the same constraint, as I cannot decide
about either of the two. On the contrary, Communism, by the abolition of
all personal property, only presses me back still more into dependence
on another, _viz._, on the generality or collectivity; and, loudly as it
always attacks the "State," what it intends is itself again a State, a
_status_, a condition hindering my free movement, a sovereign power over
me. Communism rightly revolts against the pressure that I experience
from individual proprietors; but still more horrible is the might that
it puts in the hands of the collectivity.
Egoism takes another way to root out the non-possessing rabble. It does
not say: Wait for what the board of equity will--bestow on you in the
name of the collectivity (for such bestowal took place in "States" from
the most ancient times, each receiving "according to his desert," and
therefore according to the measure in which each was able to _deserve_
it, to acquire it by _service_), but: Take hold, and take what you
require! With this the war of all against all is declared. _I_ alone
decide what I will have.
"Now, that is truly no new wisdom, for self-seekers have acted so at all
times!" Not at all necessary either that the thing be new, if only
_consciousness_ of it is present. But this latter will not be able to
claim great age, unless perhaps one counts in the Egyptian and Spartan
law; for how little current it is appears even from the stricture above,
which speaks with contempt of "self-seekers." One is to know just this,
that the procedure of taking hold is not contemptible, but manifests the
pure deed of the egoist at one with himself.
Only when I expect neither from individuals nor from a collectivity what
I can give to myself, only then do I slip out of the snares of--love;
the rabble ceases to be rabble only when it _takes hold_. Only the dread
of taking hold, and the corresponding punishment thereof, makes it a
rabble. Only that taking hold is _sin_, crime,--only this dogma creates
a rabble. For the fact that the rabble remains what it is, it (because
it allows validity to that dogma) is to blame as well as, more
especially, those who "self-seekingly" (to give them back their favorite
word) demand that the dogma be respected. In short, the lack of
_consciousness_ of that "new wisdom," the old consciousness of sin,
alone bears the blame.
If men reach the point of losing respect for property, every one will
have property, as all slaves become free men as soon as they no longer
respect the master as master. _Unions_ will then, in this matter too,
multiply the individual's means and secure his assailed property.
According to the Communists' opinion the commune should be proprietor.
On the contrary, _I_ am proprietor, and I only come to an understanding
with others about my property. If the commune does not do what suits me,
I rise against it and defend my property. I am proprietor, but property
is _not sacred_. I should be merely possessor? No, hitherto one was only
possessor, secured in the possession of a parcel by leaving others also
in possession of a parcel; but now _everything_ belongs to me, I am
proprietor of _everything that I require_ and can get possession of. If
it is said socialistically, society gives me what I require,--then the
egoist says, I take what I require. If the Communists conduct themselves
as ragamuffins, the egoist behaves as proprietor.
All swan-fraternities,[182] and attempts at making the rabble happy,
that spring from the principle of love, must miscarry. Only from egoism
can the rabble get help, and this help it must give to itself and--will
give to itself. If it does not let itself be coerced into fear, it is a
power. "People would lose all respect if one did not coerce them so into
fear," says bugbear Law in "_Der gestiefelte Kater_."
Property, therefore, should not and cannot be abolished; it must rather
be torn from ghostly hands and become _my_ property; then the erroneous
consciousness, that I cannot entitle myself to as much as I require,
will vanish.--
"But what cannot man require!" Well, whoever requires much, and
understands how to get it, has at all times helped himself to it, as
Napoleon did with the Continent and France with Algiers. Hence the exact
point is that the respectful "rabble" should learn at last to help
itself to what it requires. If it reaches out too far for you, why, then
defend yourselves. You have no need at all to good-heartedly--bestow
anything on it; and, when it learns to know itself, it--or rather:
whoever of the rabble learns to know himself, he--casts off the
rabble-quality in refusing your alms with thanks. But it remains
ridiculous that you declare the rabble "sinful and criminal" if it is
not pleased to live from your favors because it can do something in its
own favor. Your bestowals cheat it and put it off. Defend your property,
then you will be strong; if, on the other hand, you want to retain your
ability to bestow, and perhaps actually have the more political rights
the more alms (poor-rates) you can give, this will work just as long as
the recipients let you work it.[183]
In short, the property question cannot be solved so amicably as the
Socialists, yes, even the Communists, dream. It is solved only by the
war of all against all. The poor become free and proprietors only when
they--_rise_. Bestow ever so much on them, they will still always want
more; for they want nothing less than that at last--nothing more be
bestowed.
It will be asked, But how then will it be when the have-nots take heart?
Of what sort is the settlement to be? One might as well ask that I cast
a child's nativity. What a slave will do as soon as he has broken his
fetters, one must--await.
In Kaiser's pamphlet, worthless for lack of form as well as substance
("_Die Persoenlichkeit des Eigentuemers in Bezug auf den Socialismus und
Communismus_," etc.), he hopes from the _State_ that it will bring about
a leveling of property. Always the State! Herr Papa! As the Church was
proclaimed and looked upon as the "mother" of believers, so the State
has altogether the face of the provident father.
* * * * *
_Competition_ shows itself most strictly connected with the principle of
civism. Is it anything else than _equality_ (_égalité_)? And is not
equality a product of that same Revolution which was brought on by the
commonalty, the middle classes? As no one is barred from competing with
all in the State (except the prince, because he represents the State
itself) and working himself up to their height, yes, overthrowing or
exploiting them for his own advantage, soaring above them and by
stronger exertion depriving them of their favorable circumstances,--this
serves as a clear proof that before the State's judgment-seat every one
has only the value of a "simple individual" and may not count on any
favoritism. Outrun and outbid each other as much as you like and can;
that shall not trouble me, the State! Among yourselves you are free in
competing, you are competitors; that is your _social_ position. But
before me, the State, you are nothing but "simple individuals"![184]
What in the form of principle or theory was propounded as the equality
of all has found here in competition its realization and practical
carrying out; for _égalité_ is--free competition. All are, before the
State,--simple individuals; in society, or in relation to each
other,--competitors.
I need be nothing further than a simple individual to be able to compete
with all others aside from the prince and his family: a freedom which
formerly was made impossible by the fact that only by means of one's
corporation, and within it, did one enjoy any freedom of effort.
In the guild and feudality the State is in an intolerant and fastidious
attitude, granting _privileges_; in competition and liberalism it is in
a tolerant and indulgent attitude, granting only _patents_ (letters
assuring the applicant that the business stands open [patent] to him) or
"concessions." Now, as the State has thus left everything to the
_applicants_, it must come in conflict with _all_, because each and all
are entitled to make application. It will be "stormed," and will go down
in this storm.
Is "free competition" then really "free"? nay, is it really a
"competition,"--to wit, one of _persons_,--as it gives itself out to be
because on this title it bases its right? It originated, you know, in
persons becoming free of all personal rule. Is a competition "free"
which the State, this ruler in the civic principle, hems in by a
thousand barriers? There is a rich manufacturer doing a brilliant
business, and I should like to compete with him. "Go ahead," says the
State, "I have no objection to make to your _person_ as competitor."
Yes, I reply, but for that I need a space for buildings, I need money!
"That's bad; but, if you have no money, you cannot compete. You must not
take anything from anybody, for I protect property and grant it
privileges." Free competition is not "free," because I lack the THINGS
for competition. Against my _person_ no objection can be made, but
because I have not the things my person too must step to the rear. And
who has the necessary things? Perhaps that manufacturer? Why, from him I
could take them away! No, the State has them as property, the
manufacturer only as fief, as possession.
But, since it is no use trying it with the manufacturer, I will compete
with that professor of jurisprudence; the man is a booby, and I, who
know a hundred times more than he, shall make his class-room empty.
"Have you studied and graduated, friend?" No, but what of that? I
understand abundantly what is necessary for instruction in that
department. "Sorry, but competition is not 'free' here. Against your
person there is nothing to be said, but the _thing_, the doctor's
diploma, is lacking. And this diploma I, the State, demand. Ask me for
it respectfully first; then we will see what is to be done."
This, therefore, is the "freedom" of competition. The State, _my lord_,
first qualifies me to compete.
But do _persons_ really compete? No, again _things_ only! Moneys in the
first place, etc.
In the rivalry one will always be left behind another (_e. g._ a
poetaster behind a poet). But it makes a difference whether the means
that the unlucky competitor lacks are personal or material, and likewise
whether the material means can be won by _personal energy_ or are to be
obtained only by _grace_, only as a present; as when, _e. g._, the
poorer man must leave, _i. e._ present, to the rich man his riches. But,
if I must all along wait for the _State's approval_ to obtain or to use
(_e. g._ in the case of graduation) the means, I have the means by the
_grace of the State_.[185]
Free competition, therefore, has only the following meaning: To the
State all rank as its equal children, and every one can scud and run to
_earn the State's goods and largess_. Therefore all do chase after
havings, holdings, possessions (be it of money or offices, titles of
honor, etc.), after the _things_.
In the mind of the commonalty every one is possessor or "owner." Now,
whence comes it that the most have in fact next to nothing? From this,
that the most are already joyful over being possessors at all, even
though it be of some rags, as children are joyful in their first
trousers or even the first penny that is presented to them. More
precisely, however, the matter is to be taken as follows. Liberalism
came forward at once with the declaration that it belonged to man's
essence not to be property, but proprietor. As the consideration here
was about "man," not about the individual, the how-much (which formed
exactly the point of the individual's special interest) was left to him.
Hence the individual's egoism retained room for the freest play in this
how-much, and carried on an indefatigable competition.
However, the lucky egoism had to become a snag in the way of the less
fortunate, and the latter, still keeping its feet planted on the
principle of humanity, put forward the question as to the how-much of
possession, and answered it to the effect that "man must have as much as
he requires."
Will it be possible for _my_ egoism to let itself be satisfied with
that? What "man" requires furnishes by no means a scale for measuring me
and my needs; for I may have use for less or more. I must rather have so
much as I am competent to appropriate.
Competition suffers from the unfavorable circumstance that the _means_
for competing are not at every one's command, because they are not taken
from personality, but from accident. Most are _without means_, and for
this reason _without goods_.