Ludwig van Beethoven's Ninth Symphony was first performed exactly 200 years ago on Tuesday and has since become the work most likely to be embraced for political purposes.
It was played at the 1936 Olympic Games in Berlin; it was staged again in that city at Christmas 1989 after the fall of the Berlin Wall, when Leonard Bernstein replaced the word “Joy” in the choral finale with “Freedom”; the European Union has adopted the symphony's theme “Ode to Joy” as its national anthem. (Today the Ninth is played in concert halls around the world to commemorate its premiere. The classical music world loves anniversaries.)
Beethoven might have been surprised by the political allure of his masterpiece.
He was interested in politics, but only because he was deeply interested in humanity. The story goes that he originally wanted to dedicate his 'Eroica' symphony to Napoleon – it was to be called 'Bonaparte' – but he changed his mind after Napoleon abandoned the ideals of the French Revolution and was crowned emperor.
However, I do not believe that Beethoven was interested in everyday politics. He was not an activist.
Instead, he was a deeply political man in the broadest sense of the word. He was concerned with moral behavior and the larger questions of right and wrong that concern society as a whole. Of particular importance to him was freedom of thought and personal expression, which he associated with the rights and responsibilities of the individual. He would have had no sympathy for the now widespread view that freedom is essentially economic and necessary for the functioning of markets.
The closest he comes to a political statement in the Ninth is a sentence at the heart of the last movement, in which voices are heard for the first time in a symphony: 'All men become brothers.' We now understand that as an expression of hope rather than a confident statement, given the many exceptions to this sentiment, including the Jews under the Nazis and members of minorities in many parts of the world. The number and scale of the crises facing humanity severely test that hope. We have seen many crises, but it seems we are not learning any lessons from them.
I also see the Ninth in a different way. Music in itself does not represent anything other than itself. The greatness of music, and of the Ninth Symphony, lies in the richness of its contrasts. Music never just laughs or cries; it always laughs and cries at the same time. Creating unity from contradictions – that for me is Beethoven.
Music, if you study it properly, is a lesson for life. We can learn a lot from Beethoven, who was of course one of the strongest personalities in music history. He is the master of bringing together emotion and intellect. With Beethoven you have to be able to structure your feelings and feel the structure emotionally – a fantastic lesson for life! When we are in love, we lose all sense of discipline. Music doesn't allow that.
But music means different things to different people and sometimes even different things to the same person at different times. It can be poetic, philosophical, sensual or mathematical, but it must have something to do with the soul.
Therefore it is metaphysical – but the means of expression is purely and exclusively physical: sound. It is precisely this permanent coexistence of metaphysical messages through physical means that is the power of music. It is also why when we try to describe music with words, we can only express our reactions to it, and cannot comprehend the music itself.
The Ninth Symphony is one of the most important works of art in Western culture. Some experts call it the greatest symphony ever written, and many commentators praise its visionary message. It is also one of the most revolutionary works by a composer who is mainly defined by the revolutionary character of his works. Beethoven freed music from the prevailing conventions of harmony and structure. Sometimes I feel in his late works the will to break through all signs of continuity.
The Italian philosopher Antonio Gramsci said something beautiful in 1929, when Benito Mussolini had Italy under his thumb. “My mind is pessimistic, but my will is optimistic,” he wrote to a prison friend. I think he meant that as long as we live, we have hope. I still try to take Gramsci's words to heart, even if I don't always succeed.
By all accounts, Beethoven was courageous, and I find courage an essential quality for the understanding, let alone the performance, of the Ninth. You could paraphrase much of Beethoven's work in the spirit of Gramsci by saying that suffering is inevitable, but the courage to overcome it makes life worth living.
Daniel Barenboim is a pianist and conductor, co-founder of the West-Eastern Divan Orchestra and founder of the Barenboim-Said Academy in Berlin.
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