While the left-wing parties fight out their quarrels with German thoroughness, the right is getting ready for battle. While the republican parties are conducting a more or less intellectual struggle against each other in the big cities, the monarchists are taking control of the countryside and rural areas, and they will soon be able to completely surround the cities and industrial areas. When shots fall in Berlin, the Pomeranian Vendée will dance for joy. The republic is bad, that is the political creed of innumerable Germans these days. The lack of self-control of the radical left-wing opposition is the best help that the reactionary right could hope for.
To all good people whose dernier cri is a gaze of blank despair at the rottenness of the times, if they are still receptive, I urgently recommend the study of the times following great crises.
The landscape is wide. Mountains, valleys and lakes. The trees rustle, the springs flow, the grass bends in the wind. Barbed wire runs right across a clearing in the woods, through the woods, across the road: the border. Men are standing on both sides of it, but the ones over there are wearing blue uniforms with yellow buttons, and the ones over here, red uniforms with black buttons. They stand there with their guns, some are smoking, all have serious expressions.