Is there anyone who would like to take a little look down on and under that secret how man fabricates an ideal on earth? Who has the courage for that? . . . Come on, now! Hereâs an open glimpse into this dark workshop. Just wait a moment, my dear Mr. Nosy and Presumptuous: your eye must first get used to this artificial flickering light. . . . So, enough! Now speak! Whatâs going on down there? Speak up. Say what you see, man of the most dangerous curiosityânow Iâm the one whoâs listening.â
ââI see nothing, but I hear all the more. It is a careful, crafty, light rumour-mongering and whispering from every nook and cranny. It seems to me that people are lying; a sugary mildness clings to every sound. Weakness is going to be falsified into something of merit. Thereâs no doubt about itâthings are just as you said they were.â
âKeep talking!
ââAnd powerlessness which does not retaliate is being falsified into âgoodness,â anxious baseness into âhumility,â submission before those one hates to âobedienceâ (of course, obedience to the one who, they say, commands this submissionâthey call him God). The inoffensiveness of the weak manâcowardice itself, in which he is rich, his standing at the door, his inevitable need to wait aroundâhere acquires a good name, like âpatience,â and is called virtue itself. That incapacity for revenge is called the lack of desire for revenge, perhaps even forgiveness (âfor they know not what they doâonly we know what they do!â). And people are talking about âlove for oneâs enemiesââand sweating as they say it.â
âKeep talking!
ââThey are miserableâthereâs no doubt about thatâall these rumour-mongers and counterfeiters in the corners, although crouched down beside each other in the warmthâbut they are telling me that their misery is Godâs choice, His sign. One beats the dog one loves the most. Perhaps this misery may be a preparation, a test, an education, perhaps it is even moreâsomething that will one day be rewarded and paid out with huge interest in gold, no, in happiness. They call that âblessednessâ.â
âGo on!
ââNow they are letting me know that they are not only better than the powerful, the masters of the earth, whose spit they have to lick (not out of fear, certainly not out of fear, but because God commands that they honour all those in authority)âthey are not only better than these, but they also are âbetter off,â or at any rate will one day have it better. But enough! Enough! I canât take it any more. Bad air! Bad air! This workshop where man fabricates idealsâit seems to me it stinks of nothing but lies.â
âNo! Just one minute more! So far you havenât said anything about the masterpiece of these black magicians who make whiteness, milk, and innocence out of every blackness:âhave you not noticed the perfection of their sophistication, their most daring, most refined, most spiritual, most fallacious artistic attempt? Pay attention! These cellar animals full of vengeance and hatredâwhat exactly are they making out of that vengeance and hatred? Have you ever heard these words? If you heard only their words, would you suspect that you were completely among men of ressentiment? . . .
ââI understand. Once again Iâll open my ears (oh! oh! oh! and hold my nose). Now Iâm hearing for the first time what theyâve been saying so often: âWe good menâwe are the righteousââwhat they demand they donât call repayment but âthe triumph of righteousness.â What they hate is not their enemy. No! They hate âinjustice,â âgodlessness.â What they believe and hope is not a hope for revenge, the intoxication of sweet vengeance (something Homer has already called âsweeter than honeyâ), but the victory of God, the righteous God, over the godless. What remains for them to love on earth is not their brothers in hatred but their âbrothers in love,â as they say, all the good and righteous people on the earth.â
âAnd what do they call what serves them as a consolation for all the suffering of lifeâtheir phantasmagoria of future blessedness which they are expecting?
ââWhatâs that? Am I hearing correctly? They call that âthe last judgment,â the coming of their kingdom, the coming of âGodâs kingdomââ but in the meanwhile they live âin faith,â âin love,â âin hope.ââ
âEnough! Enough!