Nothing is more symptomatic of the mortal malady that afflicts the capitalist system than the frenetic energy it expends to convince the world of its freshness, of its health, and of the confidence it has in its future. It refuses to admit that its hour is past and hopes to be able to return the others as blind as itself. It has its apostles: bankers, general managers, presidents of administrative councils. No priest permits it to doubt the immortality of its god. When the faith is undermined, the credit of the priest, his dignity, and daily bread are compromised. We then hear these apostles of capitalism preaching more and more desperately their doctrine of salvation and their creed. They cling to the hope of recovering the renegades, the stray sheep. Duisberg, Wassermann, Silverberg (and we mark the Jewish accent of these apostles of this god) repeat with zeal charged with anger that the private property of the means of production and private enterprise were – in the past – the bases of the capitalist conception of the economy. They have made their proofs and they must maintain them. All the collectivist tendencies must be discarded. They act to create a new economic ideology for the young – for student in particular – in order to counteract the anti-capitalist currents already finding an echo in a large part of the bourgeoisie.
In Russia, Marxism filled a very particular mission. There it reclaimed a will to life, organic, anchored in instinct, capable of rigor, and not limited to being a secondary phenomenon, sentimental and romantic of a process of automatic development. By showing evidently the necessity of that which it produced, it aided the organic will to life in acquiring an assurance whose fanaticism did not recoil, even before terror. In Western Europe, Marxism is a little glow which bathes a resigned fatalism. In Russia, it was this thunderbolt in the night that permits the assault troop, expectantly, to reconnoiter the terrain in order to launch a violent attack.
Thus, in the industrial era, Russia became a particular type of national community. Turkey, China, and maybe even all of Asia take this type of community as their model.
But will Germany do that? For the moment, it already seems turned towards the Western way of life that places the economy above politics and transforms, bit by bit, the state into a service of a great anonymous and multinational society. But it is not necessary that we stay there!
Certainly, it does not mean in any case to “convert Germany to Bolshevism, to Russify it and Asiaticize it.” However, it must orient itself towards the East. There is no doubt that it will then find in the depths of its soul the proper solution, it particular form, and change itself correspondingly.
The subject of German politics, during the years to come, will be this alternative before which it finds itself, opting definitively for one of the types of society objectively possible: that of the West or that of the East.
The best elements of the German youth aspire to collectivism and to a life ruled by a sense of responsibility. And that is what gives it hope.
For Wassermann and Silverberg, the anti-capitalist tendencies are diabolical forces that tempt the German youth and endanger the reign of their all powerful, paternal, Providence.