Duties of the Nobility — Oswald Spengler

Speech delivered on May 16, 1924, at the German Nobility Day in Breslau, Lower Silesia

If I may be permitted to say a few things about the current duties of the German nobility, I must limit myself to their political aspects due to the brevity of time.

The revolution has destroyed almost everything that is essential for successful politics. This includes, above all, the social and political structure of the nobility as an organic layer within the nation. Every great country has both domestic and foreign political tasks that require the presence of a unified thinking, feeling, and acting layer, without which a consistent solution to these tasks is not guaranteed. Where this layer is missing, high-level politics quickly becomes entirely dependent on the presence of very gifted individuals. In Germany, this upper structure has been deeply shaken by the revolution—perhaps the most disastrous outcome of the upheaval. If the revolution dissolved the army, it can be rebuilt; a lost position of power can be regained; but a nation wounded from within is very difficult to heal, even if the disruption of society has not led to the dissolution of its leading layer.

History teaches that this sustaining, nurturing, and educating layer generally included a hereditary nobility as its core. A well-known example is Rome, where the racial characteristics of the people were cultivated to pure form in a number of great families. Every true nobility within a people is "race" in pure form, not only distinguished by descent but also as the embodiment of certain instincts of command, organization, negotiation, and responsibility—in short, superiority in all areas of practical national life. Nobility is a thoroughly political class—politics understood as a war with the means of intellectual and social tactics; diplomacy, both external and internal, was never anything other than a duel with bloodless weapons. Often, the fate of a people rested entirely in the abilities of its nobility. However, political defeats first affect and throw the nobility off course. This is particularly the case in today's Germany. But precisely Germany, which due to its miserable development since the Thirty Years' War has not maintained a refined bourgeois society like that of England or France, cannot do without the nobility as the center of its leading classes. Therefore, the nobility has the duty to regain its former significance, not by attempting the hopeless task of reclaiming old privileges, but through education towards inner superiority, an education that Frederick William I demonstrated as possible in himself, his officials, and officers. We cannot remain dependent on the accidental emergence of a Bismarck or a Napoleon given our political and geographical situation. England teaches us a great lesson in this regard. Over the last 200 years, England has rarely had a genius leader of the caliber of a Pitt. But all leaders of moderate rank were able to surround themselves with a group of collaborators who instinctively understood and mastered the necessary goals and means, and these could rely on the instincts of the English upper class, which was shaped and educated by the families of the hereditary nobility, especially the gentry. This was how England managed to progress on its path, even when it went decades without a great Prime Minister.

This instinct of a layer cannot be replaced by patriotic programs and views. Views are based on reasons, but the course of world history is not guided by a program, and better reasons never guarantee better success. Political instinct, however, is not learned in universities or from books and newspapers, but awakened, as in earlier centuries through the education of pages, and in today's England through social discipline and personal contact between young men and politically experienced men in the exclusive clubs. Practical success does not depend on dissecting great facts and situations intellectually, but on instinctively sensing at first glance what possibilities lie within them and what means are applicable. Every duel with a sharp weapon, every fair hunt, every game has its own emotional logic, and this, not the logic of philosophy, is also that of political success. England shows the dangers of misunderstanding these facts. In recent years, England has had two statesmen who emerged from domestic politics, if not from the labor movement, and who, under the pressure of events, managed to take control of foreign policy: Lloyd George and Ramsay Macdonald. Both have worsened England's situation in a disastrous way; that this did not lead to an outright defeat is thanks to the instincts of its society, which, even against the will of the ruling individuals, kept the general course of policy on track. When a coherent layer exists, such errors are mitigated by the persistence of what is called the "will of a country," which operates impersonally and without communication in very many individuals.

Looking at the current world situation, which has been rapidly approaching final decisions since the World War, one recognizes that, in the end, the nation with the most capable leading layer will win the race. Whether the army is defeated, the economy ruined, or overseas possessions lost or abandoned, all this pales in significance compared to the question of whether the leading layer, the backbone of the nation, remains capable. When the Romans eventually overcame all opponents and the Roman Empire was indeed Roman, they owed this not to the intelligence of the Forum, nor to the mere training of their legions, but to the layer of old families that, even after Cannae and after the civil wars of Marius and Sulla, upheld political tradition and was superior in foresight to the Carthaginians and Greeks.

We Germans are living in a present that no country has had to endure for a century. We are isolated like on an island; we are not even masters in our own land; we have to maintain a French army on German soil with German money. And yet, through superior politics, we could achieve a position that turns our geographical location from a disadvantage into an advantage: between the emerging Russia and the English sea power, which is in an internal crisis. But for that, we must educate people who, in addition to the old Prussian qualities of discipline, a sense of responsibility, and self-denial, also possess the specifically political virtues that have so far been the result of rare chance and not social breeding in our country. This is the true task of the German nobility. But precisely because of this, certain traits that still clung to all layers of our people at the outbreak of the World War must be observed with special concern. Since we no longer have colonies and hardly any German communities abroad, we think too domestically and provincially on political issues. The "native soil" is indeed the foundation of a healthy national character and particularly of a healthy nobility, but it must not represent the horizon of political considerations. With its 60 million inhabitants, Germany is a very small country on the surface of the earth and therefore a political unit that can and must only be viewed in connection with world politics. Precisely because of our current weakness, it is even more important than before the war that every politically active person maintains a constant overview of the situation and events in the Pacific, in South Africa, and in North America, and that they keep themselves informed about the moods and opinions there through newspapers and personal contacts. We can only change our fate if we constantly keep global political perspectives in mind; otherwise, the calculation will be wrong. But this is precisely what is lacking everywhere.

We became a great nation too quickly. Barely 50 years ago, in the time of our grandfathers, there were still a handful of German states and tiny regions, each with only a local policy, and world politics in the English sense was barely known by name. We are far from having overcome this narrowness. Much of what lies behind the words "folkish" and "national" is based on a complete unfamiliarity with political thinking and will outside of Germany and a disastrous underestimation of the enemy’s superiority in political means, perspectives, and methods. We became overnight a nation with a global industry, global trade, and sea power, so that there are still countless Germans who perceive the goals of economic circles and interests as unnational because their horizons extend beyond regional circles and interests. But a German policy has been possible since Bismarck only if it is anchored in the broad context of today's global connections, and if the leading class considers it their most noble duty to educate themselves for this policy of broad horizons and superior means. This, I currently see, as the great mission of the German nobility, especially the youth within it. In this respect, they do not have it easy. Every young Englishman of standing has been to the colonies and, through personal contact with the circles that govern or are economically active there, has instilled in himself a sense of the true meaning of political affairs. Our youth, before the war, ventured out far too little. Instead of India, Egypt, and America, it was lecture halls, student corps, and assessor positions. The first real contact with great politics took place abroad, where one might have gone as a private secretary to a governor or envoy in the countries with which England was dealing; whereas with us – it must be openly admitted – it was usually through patriotic books, festivals, and lectures, which certainly did not reveal, let alone allow the study of, the arduous and thankless detailed work that paves the way for success.

Today, our youth is almost closed off from foreign countries for political and economic reasons. All the more it is a duty to seize every opportunity to learn about their current state of mind, by studying their newspapers, assemblies, economic institutions, statistics, and laws, and by establishing personal connections with significant figures in the decisive circles; such political study trips should be undertaken, prepared, and utilized as often as possible, as work, not as "recreation," as the Japanese understood with us. At home, a conscious education is necessary to precisely understand the current spirit of the foreign great powers, which makes things in one's own country appear fundamentally different.

It is a good German trait to be able to immerse oneself in the spirit of foreign times and peoples, and this should be utilized. It is fundamentally wrong to express the justified feelings of the defeated towards the victor by refusing to immerse oneself in their world or to seriously engage with them at all. It should become a daily habit for the young nobility, in particular, to constantly read the leading newspapers of foreign powers carefully, comparing them, working through the most important brochures with a pencil in hand, and keeping themselves informed about political and public opinion through leading journals and correspondence. Only in this way can Germany's intellectual isolation be overcome. There is no path to the future through a return to the so-called old ideals, which play an ominous role in our national festivals and have become limited, provincial, and hopeless ideals in the midst of the 20th century. The English conservative has always distinguished himself as a politician by being more modern in his means and goals than the majority of liberals.

Therefore, in conclusion, I issue the following admonition: Let the intellectual barriers fall that separate you from the guiding principles of world politics. World politics destroys those countries that are not intellectually up to its demands. Learn from the English nobility, which in a land without peasants had a very difficult position, that there are fundamentally no obstacles or limits to success for inner superiority. Shed the last remnants of regional particularism and aversion to global horizons, global trade, and global industry. In Germany, wherever talents were systematically cultivated, we have had brilliant results: in the army, in technology, in industry, in global trade. We could achieve the same in politics. But then we must understand that politics today is something different from conservative politics of 1860 or even 1900; and above all, the nobility must become aware of the task of intellectually outgrowing the people in its political horizon in order to regain a decisive position in world politics for Germany with the unspent strength of this people.