Mother Courage’s most distinctive (and most jarring) attribute is that she views the war primarily as a business opportunity. She cares far more about profit than about supporting the troops, making a name for herself, or even who lives and dies. Indeed, she makes her priorities clear when she tells Swiss Cheese, “Nothing must come, not even the seasons. Only your books must balance.” Mother Courage despairs when the war ends before she can sell off all her inventory, but she then rejoices when the war resumes; she refuses to give the Chaplain unsold shirts to use as bandages to save a dying peasant family, leaving him with no choice but to steal them. In this sense, like successful arms dealers, military contractors, and commodity speculators today, she acts like an ideal capitalist, making business decisions purely based on her balance sheet while ignoring everything that lacks monetary value, including justice and human life. Even when her profit-seeking bankrupts her and leads to her children’s deaths, she stoically pulls her wagon on; she never doubts her dedication to commerce.
But Mother Courage is not a deranged, greedy fanatic. Rather, she is merely a pragmatist who understands the truth about war far better than the other characters—and takes it to heart. She sees that war is a moneymaking scheme for rich and powerful men like King Gustavus, who seek to profit by mutilating, exploiting, and robbing the masses. And she sees doing exactly the same thing as her only chance to rise up in the world—she knows that, if she isn’t willing to play dirty and accept brutality, she will lose out to competitors who are willing to do this. Thus, through the character of Mother Courage, Brecht shows his audiences that profit and violence are two sides of the same coin. In fact, he suggests that war and capitalism share the same fundamental spirit: they are just elaborate forms of robbery.
Profit, Violence, and Power ThemeTracker
Profit, Violence, and Power Quotes in Mother Courage and Her Children
HERE’S MOTHER COURAGE AND HER WAGON!
HEY, CAPTAIN, LET THEM COME AND BUY!
BEER BY THE KEG! WINE BY THE FLAGON!
LET YOUR MEN DRINK BEFORE THEY DIE!
SABERS AND SWORDS ARE HARD TO SWALLOW:
FIRST YOU MUST GIVE THEM BEER TO DRINK.
THEN THEY CAN FACE WHAT IS TO FOLLOW—
BUT LET ‘EM SWIM BEFORE THEY SINK!
CHRISTIANS, AWAKE! THE WINTER’S GONE!
THE SNOWS DEPART, THE DEAD SLEEP ON.
AND THOUGH YOU MAY NOT LONG SURVIVE,
GET OUT OF BED AND LOOK ALIVE!
YOUR MEN WILL MARCH TILL THEY ARE DEAD, SIR,
BUT CANNOT FIGHT UNLESS THEY EAT.
THE BLOOD THEY SPILL FOR YOU IS RED, SIR,
WHAT FIRES THAT BLOOD IS MY RED MEAT.
FOR MEAT AND SOUP AND JAM AND JELLY
IN THIS OLD CART OF MINE ARE FOUND:
SO FILL THE HOLE UP IN YOUR BELLY
BEFORE YOU FILL ONE UNDERGROUND.
What they could use around here is a good war. What else can you expect with peace running wild all over the place? You know what the trouble with peace is? No organization. And when do you get organization? In a war. Peace is one big waste of equipment. Anything goes, no one gives a damn. See the way they eat? Cheese on rye, bacon on the cheese? Disgusting! How many horses they got in this town? How many young men? Nobody knows! They haven’t bothered to count ’em! That’s peace for you!!
(She draws a knife.) Yes, just you try, and I’ll cut you down like dogs! We sell cloth, we sell ham, we are peaceful people!
Well, there’s yours, Eilif, my boy! (As EILIF takes the slip, she snatches it and holds it up.) See? A cross!
[…]
Take yours, Swiss Cheese. You should be a better bet—you’re my good boy. (SWISS CHEESE draws.) Don’t tell me it’s a cross? Is there no saving you either? Just look, Sergeant—a black cross!
[…]
(to KATTRIN) Now all I have left is you. You’re a cross in yourself but you have a kind heart. (She holds the helmet up but takes the slip herself.) Oh dear, there must be some mistake! Don’t be too kind, Kattrin, don’t be too kind—there’s a black cross in your path! So now you all know: be careful! Be very careful! (MOTHER COURAGE climbs on her wagon preparing to leave.)
MOTHER COURAGE. My eldest. It’s two years since I saw him. He must be high in favor—the Commander inviting him to dinner! And what do you have to eat? Nothing. The Commander’s guest wants meat! Take my advice: buy the capon. The price is one hundred hellers.
(The COMMANDER has sat down with EILIF and the CHAPLAIN.)
COMMANDER. (roaring) Dinner, you pig! Or I’ll have your head!
COOK. This is blackmail. Give me the damn thing!
EILIF. I laughed. And so we got to talking. I came right down to business and said: “Twenty guilders an ox is too much, I bid fifteen.” Like I wanted to buy. That foxed ’em. So while they were scratching their heads. I reached for my good sword and cut ’em to ribbons. Necessity knows no law, huh?
COMMANDER. What do you say, keeper of souls?
CHAPLAIN. Strictly speaking, that saying is not in the Bible. Our Lord made five hundred loaves out of five so that no necessity should arise. So when he told men to love their neighbors, their bellies were full. Things have changed since his day.
COMMANDER. (laughing) Things have changed!
I’m letting you have the bullets for two guilders. Dirt cheap. ’Cause I need the money. The Colonel’s been drinking for three days and we’re out of liquor.
COOK. And King Gustavus liberated Poland from the Germans. Who could deny it? Then his appetite grew with eating, and he liberated Germany from the Germans. Made quite a profit on the deal, I’m told.
CHAPLAIN. That is a calumny! The Swedish king puts religion first!
MOTHER COURAGE. What’s more, you eat his bread.
COOK. I don’t eat his bread: I bake his bread.
MOTHER COURAGE. He’ll never be conquered, that man, and you know why? We all back him up—the little fellows like you and me. Oh yes, to hear the big fellows talk, they ‘re fighting for their beliefs and so on, but if you look into it, you find they’re not that silly: they do want to make a profit on the deal. So you and I back them up!
YVETTE (re-enters, pale). You’ve done it—with your haggling. You can keep your wagon now. He got eleven bullets in him. I don’t know why I still bother about you, you don’t deserve it, but I just happened to hear they don’t think the cash-box is really in the river. They think it’s here. And they think you were in with him.
SERGEANT. There’s a man here we don’t know the name of, but he has to be registered to keep the records straight. He bought a meal from you. Look at him. See if you know him. (He draws back the sheet.) You know him? (MOTHER COURAGE shakes her head.) What? You never saw him before he bought that meal? (MOTHER COURAGE shakes her head.) Lift him up. Throw him on the garbage dump. He has no one that knows him.
(They carry him off.)
She’s finished. How would she ever get a husband now? And she’s crazy for children. Even her dumbness comes from the war. A soldier stuck something in her mouth when she was little. I’ll never see Swiss Cheese again, and where my Eilif is the Good Lord knows. Curse the war!
Don’t tell me peace has broken out—I’ve gone and bought all these supplies!
CHAPLAIN. Your intentions are only too transparent! (to MOTHER COURAGE:) But when I see you take peace between finger and thumb like a snotty old handkerchief, the humanity in me rebels! You want war, do you? Well, don’t you forget the proverb: who sups with the devil must use a long spoon!
MOTHER COURAGE. Remember what one fox said to another that was caught in a trap? “If you stay there, you’re just asking for trouble.” I’m not in love with war, Mr. Army Chaplain, and when it comes to calling people hyenas, you and I part company!
CHAPLAIN. Then why all this grumbling about the peace? Is it just for the junk in your wagon?
MOTHER COURAGE. My goods are not junk. I live off them.
CHAPLAIN. You live off war. Exactly!
CHAPLAIN. What has he done?
SOLDIER. He broke in on a peasant. The wife is dead.
CHAPLAIN. Eilif, how could you?
EILIF. It’s no different. It’s what I did before.
COOK. That was in wartime.
EILIF. Shut your mouth. Can I sit down till she comes?
SOLDIER. No.
CHAPLAIN. It’s true. In wartime they honored him for it. He sat at the Commander’s right hand. It was bravery.
MOTHER COURAGE. Kattrin! Where do you think you’re going? (She examines the bundle.) Ah! So you were listening ? I told him: nothing doing—he can have his lousy inn. (Now she sees the skirt and pants.) Oh, you stupid girl! Now what if I’d seen that, and you’d been gone! (KATTRIN tries to leave. Her mother holds her.) And don’t imagine I sent him packing on your account. It was the wagon. They can’t part me from my wagon. Now we’ll put the cook’s things here where he’ll find ’em, that silly man. You and I are leaving. (She climbs upon the wagon and throws the rest of the COOK’s few things down on to the pants.) There! He’s fired! The last man I’ll ever take into this business! Get into harness, Kattrin. This winter will pass like all the others.
LIEUTENANT (pointing to the wagon on which KATTRIN has appeared). There’s another. (A SOLDIER pulls her out.) Is this everybody?
OLD PEASANT. That’s our son.
PEASANT WOMAN. And that’s a girl that can’t talk. Her mother’s in town buying up stocks because the shopkeepers are running away and selling cheap.
OLD PEASANT. They’re canteen people.
LULLAY, LULLAY, WHAT’S THAT IN THE HAY?
THE NEIGHBOR’S KIDS CRY BUT MINE ARE GAY.
THE NEIGHBOR’S KIDS ARE DRESSED IN DIRT:
YOUR SILKS WERE CUT FROM AN ANGEL’S SKIRT.
THEY ARE ALL STARVING. YOU HAVE A CAKE
IF IT’S TOO STALE, YOU NEED BUT SPEAK.
LULLAY, LULLAY, WHAT’S RUSTLING THERE?
ONE LAD FELL IN POLAND. THE OTHER IS—WHERE?
OLD PEASANT. Have you no one left?
MOTHER COURAGE. Yes, my son Eilif.
OLD PEASANT. Find him then, leave her to us.
PEASANT WOMAN. We’ll give her a proper burial, you needn’t worry.
MOTHER COURAGE. Here’s a little money for the expenses. (She harnesses herself to the wagon.) I hope I can pull the wagon by myself. Yes, I’ll manage. There’s not much in it now. (The last regiment is heard passing.) Hey! Take me with you!