In his practical ethics he works out the theory of the Ems telegram and the Berlin Press Bureau—
“In point of fact it matters greatly to what end one lies, whether one preserves or destroys by means of falsehood.”
It would be a simple weariness to multiply passages in greater abundance. They are all of the same texture, for, despite incoherence and contradictions, they all come from the same centre of corruption, the Will-to-Power. It is a long-drawn-out Metaphysics of Bullying, nothing less and nothing more.
One has only to think of the soil into which seed like this was dropped in order to understand the harvest of desolation that the swords are now reaping. Think of Prussia, flattered by all the world—even by Matthew Arnold—into regarding herself as the chosen of the Lord. Think of the unearned prosperity brought by the French tribute, of the raw egotism, the coarse insolence bred by it. Think of how the old Germanic racial chauvinism was nourished by the theories of Gobineau as freshened by the appalling Chamberlain. Think of how French intellect has been boycotted in England and America for thirty years, while troops of translators, critics and publishers ran round canvassing first-class reputations for fourth-rate German scholars. Think of the tawdry pretensions of Berlin, of the infinite vulgarity of the Alley and Column of Victory.
* * * * *
Is it to be wondered at that a creed like Nietzsche’s, let loose in such a world, has succeeded? Reading it, Krupp feels himself a veritable knight of the Holy Ghost. Kaiser Wilhelm’s brow grows heavy with the growing cares of the superman. Buccaneer Bernhardi cries out: “My lust for blood is philosophised.” The diplomats join in in chorus: “Remember Bismarck! Since France and England both want peace, let us either lie or bully them into war!”
Nietzsche said of himself: “I am a fatality!” He was. Three years before this war was thought of, in attempting to define Nietzscheanism in an introduction to Halévy’s Life, I wrote as opening words: “The duel between Nietzsche and Civilisation is over....”
I was wrong; it is not over. But between Prussianism and Civilisation it is that this epical war is joined; there is not room on earth for the two.
III.—Treitschke and the Professors
I confess that I am weary of these German Professors. Having deposed God—by stern decree of their theological Press Bureau—they felt that a gap had been created, and volunteered to fill it. But as a substitute divinity the Herr Professor falls a little short of perfect accomplishment. I have sat under or come in contact with a few truly great men among them, like Windleband of Heidelberg, and Pastor of Innsbruck. But the Haeckels, the Harnacks, the Euckens, and the rest mistook their trade when they went in for omniscience. These drill-sergeants of metaphysics understand everything except reality. The “fog of war,” of which one had heard so much, was as nothing to the fog of peace into which they had plunged Germany and Europe.