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Keg.^o.1 3-^139 Sheirao. A^M 


^3Shitc ^unb. 

/ --36 


E Pluribus Unum 

'These publications of the day should from time to 

time be winnowed, the wheat carefully preserved, 

and the chaff thrown away.' 

'Made up of every creature's best.' 

'Various, that the mind 
Of desultory man, studious of change 
And pleased with novelty, might be indulged.' 

Volume 350 
March, 1936 August, 1936 

New York 


1 3 3 r^ J 

SOOH - ^50 



MARCH, 1936 AUGUST, 1936 


Allard, Paul, Business As Usual 307 

Auden, W. H. Seaside 339 

Bell, Clive. Inside the ^ueen Mary 329 

Berlin, Lyubov. Coming Down to Earth . . 437 

Bonorko, Professor. Spain Catches Up . . 423 

Bowra, C. M. Housmans Scholarship. . . 502 

Bruce, Malin. The Corpse 526 

Chiaramonte, Nicholas. The Nature of 

Fascism 515 

Coline, Constance. Diogenes in Rome .... 404 

Coolen, An toon. The Good Horse 1 50 

Connolly, Cyril. The Poetry of A. E. 

Housman 499 

Corbach, Otto. Japan and Siam 128 

Delaisi, Francis. fVho Pays the Piper? . . 197 

Demaitre, Edmond. The Yellow Terror. . 218 
Dugdale, Mrs. Edgar. The Desert and the 

Sown 419 

F. L. Czechoslovakia: The Dangerous 

Corner 426 

Galinier, Pierre. The White Mens Road. 429 

Habaru, A. Steeltown, France 480 

Hillekamps, C. The Argentine Recovers. . 162 
Hirsch, Felix E. With Honors Crowned. . 393 
Hoult, Norah. Miss Manning's Fight. . . . 241 
Hu Shih, Dr. An Open Letter to the Japa- 
nese People 8 

Jones, Ernest. The Psychology of Consti- 
tutional Monarchy 117 

Joseph, Michael. The Intelligence of Cats . 23^^ 

Kassil, Lev. Makaroonovna 6^ 

Kunikos. The Sky-Blue Circle 494 

Lania, Leo. Moscow Buys 142 

Laski, Harold. Four Tears to Rebuild 

Spain 159 

Li Tsung-jen, General. / Call China to 

War 384 

Lindt, A. R. * Poteen' 523 

Maillart, Ella. The Open Door in Man- 

chukuo 15 

Mannin, Ethel. Whither Russia? 60 

Money-Kyrle, Roger. Paranoia and War 1 1 1 

Nuttall, William. The Proletarian Reader 209 

Odet, Charles. / Decide to Be a Deputy . . . 204 

O. R., Dr. Holland Clamps Down 66 

Palazzeschi, Aldo. Signora Eulalia 2Z 

Pierre-Quint, L6on. On Rereading Marcel 

Proust 50 

Pleyer, Kleo. An Epistle to the Discon- 
tented 237 

Pol, Heinz. German Concentration Camps 30 

Price, Willard. Japan's Island Wall 130 

Rychner, Max. A Conversation in Cologne 31 1 
Schreider, Eugene. Moffgolia, Land of 

Contrasts 1 26 

Serrigny, General. Hitler s Motor High- 
ways 102 

Sieburg, Friedrich. Berlin Revisited.. ... 146 

Siegfried, Andre. America s Crisis 290 

Sitwell, Osbert. The Conspiracy of the 

Dwarfs 332 

Smith, Logan P^arsall. On Writing Letters 

to the Times 214 

Stein, Giinther. News From Japan 12 

Taylor, George E. The Prospects of Com- 
munism in China 389 

Thury, Zsuzsa T. Mr. Szabo 340 

X, General. Germany's War Machine . . . 301 

Yanaihara, Tadao. Japan Looks South. . . 491 

Zarek, Otto. Days in Switzerland 68 




The Corpse. Malin Bruce 

Berliner Tageblatt 

Japan and Siam. Otto Corbach 

Blut und Boden 
An Epistle to the Discontented. Kleo 

I Decide to Be a Deputy. Charles Odet. . 

Canton Truth 
I Call China to War. General Li 'Tsung- 

China Weekly Review 
Bureyastroy and Biro-Bidjan. A Harbin 


The Coming War in the East. A Harbin 


Daily Herald 

Four Years to Rebuild Spain. Harold 

Daily Telegraph 

The Conspiracy of the Dwarfs. Osbert 


Britain's Betting Business 



On Rereading Marcel Proust. Leon 

The Nature of Fascism. Nicholas Chi- 

Frankfurter Zeitung 

Berlin Revisited. Friedrich Sieburg 

GiusTiziA e LibertX 

The Second Roman Empire. UOsserva- 

Independent Critic 

An Open Letter to the Japanese People. 


Makaroonovna. Lev Kassil 



Journal de Geneve 

526 The Argentine Recovers. C. /^/7Mw/>j . 162 
The Open Door in Manchukuo. Ella 

Maillart 15 



Japan Looks South. T^adao Yanaihara . 491 

^37 L'EuROPE Nouvelle 

Diogenes in Rome. Constance Coline. . . . 404 

Life and Letters Today 

Miss Manning's Fight. Norah Hoult. ... 241 
Paranoia and War. Roger Money-Kyrle . . 1 1 1 



Seaside. fF. H. Auden 339 

Inside the Queen Mary. Clive Bell 329 


London Mercury 

The Proletarian Reader. William Nuttall. log 


159 Mongolia, Land of Contrasts. Eugene 

Scbreider 126 

Steeltown, France. A. Habaru 480 

332 Manchester Guardian 

Hitler's Secret Police. A Special Corre- 
spondent 108 

^ The Desert and the Sown. Mrs. Edgar 

^^^ Dugdale 419 

The Third Reich Today. A Special Cor- 
respondent 25 

- Young China Goes to School. A Special 

Correspondent 121 

5^5 Marianne 

The Yellow Terror. Edmond Demaitre ... 218 
146 The White Men's Road. P/Vrr^Ga///Vr. 429 

Nouvelles Litteraires 

Signora Eulalia. Aldo Palazzeschi 23 


Neue Weltbuhne 
German Concentration Camps. Heinz Pol 30 


Neue Zurcher Zeitung 

A Conversation in Cologne. Max Rychner 311 
62 'Poteen.' A. R. Lindt 523 




Neues Tage-buch 
Moscow Buys. Leo Lania 14^ 

Neues Wiener Tagblatt 
Holland Clamps Down. Dr.O.R 66 

North-China Review 
The Sky-Blue Circle. Kunikos 494 

New Leader 
Whither Russia? Ethel Mannin 60 

New Statesman and Nation 

A Note on the Poetry of A. E. Housman. 
Cyril Connolly 499 

On Writing Letters to the Times. Logan 
Pearsall Smith 214 

The Psychology of Constitutional Mon- 
archy. Ernest Jones 117 

The Prospects of Communism in China. 
George E. Taylor 389 

Pester Lloyd 

Days in Switzerland. Otto Zarek 68 

Mr. Szabo. Zsuzsa T. Thury 340 

Spain Catches Up. Professor Bonorko . . . 423 

Coming Down to Earth. Lyubov Berlin . . 437 

Revue des Deux Mondes 

America's Crisis. Andre Siegfried 290 

Hitler's Motor Highways. General Ser- 



Japan's Island Wall. Willard Price 130 

Housman 's Scholarship. C. M. Bowra. . . 502 

News From Japan. Guntber Stein 12 

The Intelligence of Cats. Michael Joseph 336 


Armies of the Left. Anonymous 19 

Business As Usual. Paul Allard 307 

Germany's War Machine. Gtf"a/ A!". . . . 301 

Who Pays the Piper? Francis Delaisi 197 


Czechoslovakia: The Dangerous Corner. 




American Neutrality in British Eyes .... 167 

An American Vignette 87 

An Englishman Finds Fault 255 

An Englishman Looks at the Con- 
stitution 85 

Heil Lincoln ! 257 

Hommage a Philadelphie 170 

Inhuman America 348 

In Single Combat 258 

The Impassioned Preacher of Royal Oak 169 


Bates, H. E. A House of Women 450 

Baudhuin, Professor Fernand. La De- 
valuation du Franc Beige 262 

Bodley Head. l!he Years Poetry 176 

Brentano, Bernard von. Theodor Chindler 447 

Canetti, Elias. T)ie Blendung 357 

Celine, Louis Ferdinand. Mort a Credit. . 446 

Colette. Ce que Claudine n'a pas dit. . . . 181 

Crowther, J. G. Soviet Science 351 

Duhamel, Georges. Fables de mon Jardin 360 

Ensor, R. C. England, 1870-1^14 259 

Gascoyne, David. A Survey of Surrealism 178 
Germain, Andre. Deutschland und Frank- 

reich 75 

Gooch, G. P. Before the War 175 

Green, Julian. Minuit 546 

Griffin, Gerald. Gabriele D'Annunzio 73 

Guilloux, Louis. Le Sang Noir 75 

Hook, Sidney. From Hegel to Marx 541 

Hornung, Walter. Dachau Eine Chronik 72 

Huxley, Aldous. Eyeless in Gaza 543 

Ishimaru, Toto. Japan Must Fight Brit- 
ain r 267 

Jonqui^res, Henri. La Vieille Photo- 

graphie depuis Daguerre jusqua 1870. 362 
Keynes, J. M. The General Theory of Em- 
ployment, Interest and Money 17^ 

Laski, Harold J. The Rise of European 

Liberalism 444 

Lewinsohn, Richard. Les Profits de 

Guerre a travers les Sihles 263 

Lewis, Wyndham. Left Wings Over 

Europe 537 

Ludwig, Emil. Der Nil. 180 

Mann, Klaus. Symphonic Pathetique 268 




Marignac, A. de. Cyclades 361 

Martin, Everett Dean. Farewell to Revo- 
lution 264 

Mauriac, Francois. Les Anges Noirs . . . . 358 

Olden, Rudolf. Hitler 71 

Orr, Sir John. Food, Health and Income . 160 

Plomer, William. AH the Lion 354 

Rachmanova, Alia. La Fabrique des Hom- 

mes Nouveaux 452 

Rosenberg, Arthur. A History of the Ger- 
man Republic 350 

Silone, Ignazio. Brot und Wein 545 

Smith, Logan Pearsall. Fine Writing. ... 355 

Studio, The. Art in the U.S.S.R 77 

Tirala, Lothar Gottlieb. Rasse, Geist und 

Seek 539 

Vollard, Ambrose. Recollections of a Pic- 
ture Dealer 79 

Wingfield-Stratford, Esme. Good 'Talk: A 

Study in the Art of Conversation 454 

Zimmern, Sir Alfred. The League of Na- 
tions and the Rule of Law, igi 8-1^35 . . 1 74 


Cezanne at the Orangerie. Jacques 

Mathey 535 

Films Abroad. Raul Schofield 441 

French Literature Today. Denis Saurat. . 164 

Nazi Kultur. Ruth Norden 344 

None So Blind. Andre Lhote 534 

Picasso's Mind. Clive Bell 532 

Shakespeare under Hitler 166 

The Age of Symbolism. Paul Schofield. . 440 
The Art of Displeasing. Raymond Mort- 
imer 529 

The Chinese Art Exhibition. Paul Scho- 
field 82 

The Salon d'Automne. Paul Schofield. . . 84 


Angell, Sir Norman. Raw Materials, 
Population Pressure and War 368 

Armstrong, Hamilton Fish and Dulles, 
Allen W. Can We Be Neutral? 88 

Baker, Ray Stannard. Woodrow Wilson: 
Life and Letters 88 

Blumenfeld, Simon. The Iron Garden . . . 185 

Bradley, Phillips. Can We Stay Out of 
War? ^f^^ 

Brock, Werner. An Introduction to Con- 
temporary German Philosophy 366 

Carlson, Oliver and Bates, Ernest 
Sutherland. Hearst, Lord of San 
Simeon 461 

Clark, Grover. A Place in the Sun 551 

Clark, Grover. The Balance Sheets of 

Imperialism 551 

Crecraft, Earl Willis. Freedom of the 

Seas 88 

Das, Taraknath. Foreign Policy in the 

Far East 273 

Deak, Francis and Jessup, Philip C. 
Neutrality: Its History, Economics and 

Law 88 

Doob, Leonard W. Propaganda: Its Psy- 
chology and Technique 548 

Eddy, G. P. and Lawton, F. H. India's 

New Constitution 365 

Einzig, Paul. Bankers, Statesmen and 

Economists 550 

Einzig, Paul. The Exchange Clearing 

System 550 

Einzig, Paul. World Finance, 191 4-1 gj^ 550 
Falk, Edwin A. Togo and the Rise of 

Japanese Sea Power 272 

Fallada, Hans. Once We Had a Child. . . 368 
Florinski, Michael T. Fascism and Na- 
tional Socialism 366 

Ford, Guy Stanton. Dictatorship in the 

Modern World 185 

Foster, Henry A. The Making of Modern 

Irak 274 

Gunther, John. Inside Europe 272 

Harbord, James G. The American Army 

in France 459 

Heckscher, Eli F. Mercantilism 457 

Helfritz, Hans. Land Without Shade. ... 186 

Hesse, Max Rene. Doctor Morath 186 

Hubbard, G. E. Eastern Industrializa- 
tion and Its Effect Upon the West. . . . 365 
Huxley, Julian and Haddon, A. C. We 

Europeans 457 

Irwin, Will. Propaganda and the News. . 548 
Jameson, Storm. In the Second Year. . . . 368 
Jessup, C. Philip. Neutrality: Today and 

Tomorrow 'Tfy^ 

Keith, Arthur Berriedale. The Govern- 
ments of the British Empire 183 

Lansing, Robert. War Memoirs of Robert 

Lansing 88 

Lasswell, Harold D. Propaganda and 

Promotional Activities 548 

Lasswell, Harold D. World Politics and 

Personal Insecurity 548 

Leamy, Margaret. Parnell's Faithful Few 549 
Lundberg, Ferdinand. Imperial Hearst. . 461 
Main, Ernest. Irak, from Mandate to 

Independence 274 

Malraux, Andre. Days of Wrath 552 

Middleton, Lamar. The Rape of Africa. 367 



Millin, Sarah Gertrude. General Smuts. . 460 

Mowat, R. R. Diplomacy and Peace 2^3 

Muir, Ramsay. How Britain is Governed 1 83 
Phillips, W. Allison and Reede, Arthur 

H. Neutrality: The Napoleonic Period. 2>^Z 
Reddaway, W. B. The Russian Financial 

System 9^ 

Royal Institute of International Affairs. 
Unemployment: An International Prob- 
lem '. 1 84 

Saint-Helier, Monique. The Abandoned 

Wood 274 

Salvemini, Gaetano. Under the Axe of 

Fascism 45^ 

Seymour, Charles. American Neutral- 
ity 88 

Shephardson, Whitney H. and Scroggs, 
William O. The United States in World 

Affairs in 1934-1933 88 

Smith, Andrew. / Was a Soviet Worker 551 
Squires, James Duane. British Propa- 
ganda at Home and in the United States 

from 1914 to 1917 548 

Stalin, J., Molotov, V. and Kaganovich, 

L. Soviet Union, 1933 458 

Stein, Rose M. M-Day 363 

Stratton, George M. International Delu- 
sions 366 

Strong, Anna Louise. China's Millions. . 91 
Strong, Anna Louise. This Soviet World 458 
Takeuchi, Tatsuji. War and Diplomacy 

in the Japanese Empire 270 

Toller, Ernst. Seven Plays 462 

Toynbee, Arnold J. Survey of Inter- 
national Affairs 271 

Turlington, Edgar. Neutrality. The World 

War Period Z'^Z 

Varga, E. The Great Crisis and its Politi- 
cal Consequences 185 

Wiechert, Ernst. The Baroness 368 

Willert, Sir Arthur. What Next in Eu- 
rope? 91 

Williamson, Henry. Salar the Salmon . . 552 

Young, Eugene J. Powerful America. ... 461 

Zweig, Arnold. Education Before Verdun 367 


Badoglio, Marshal 317 

Blum, Leon. Louis Levy 407 

Degrelle, Leon. Arved Arentam 505 

Eckener, Dr. Hugo. H. R 320 

Edward VIII. Philip Guedalla 43 

Herriot, Eduard. Odette Pannetier 45 

Hodza, Milan. Hubert Beuve-Mery 133 

Housman, A. E. Percy Withers 414 

Howard, Leslie. C. A.L 512 

Ibn Saud. M. T. Ben-Gavriel 410 

Karageorgevich, Paul. Pierre Lyautey . . 509 

Kipling, Rudyard. Rebecca West 38 

Lubitsch, Ernst. A Film Correspondent. 325 

Maurras, Charles. D. W. Brogan 231 

Milhaud, Darius. M. D. Calvocoressi 1 40 

Ribbentrop, Joachim von 328 

Sarraut, Albert. Odette Pannetier 136 

Schuschnigg, Chancellor Kurt von. Fe- 

rax 225 

Tukhachevski, Mikhail Nikolaievich. 

Max Werner. . 234 

Ulmanis, Karlis. RenS Puaux 323 


I, 95, 189, 283, 377, 471 


93, 186,281,375,469, 557 

A Symposium 

275 369, 463, 553 


Vol.35o,No.4437 (June, i936),p. 309, col. 1,1.2: 

For 1,008,642 francs read 1,000,008,642 francs. 



for.March, 1936 


'* Articles 

The World Looks at Japan 

I. An Open Letter to the Japanese People T>r. Hu Shih 8 

IL News from Japan Giinther Stein 1 1 

in. The Open Door in Manchukuo Ella Maillart 15 

Armies of the Left 18 

After Four Years 

L The Third Reich Today 25 

IL German Concentration Camps Heinz Pol 30 

Signora Eulalia (A Story) Aldo Palazzeschi 22 

On Rereading Marcel Proust Leon Pierre-^uint 50 

Inside Russia 

I. Whither Russia? Ethel Mannin 60 

IL Makaroonovna (A Story) Lev Kassil 62 

Refuges for Refugees 

L Holland Clamps Down Dr. 0. R. 66 

IL Days in Switzerland Otto Zarek 68 



The World Over i 

Persons and Personages 

RuDYARD Kipling Rebecca West 38 

Long Live the King Philip Guedalla 43 

Big-Hearted Herriot Odette Pannetier 45 

Books Abroad 71 

Letters and the Arts 82 

As Others See Us 85 

Our Own Bookshelf 88 

With the Organizations 93 

Thb Living Age. Published monthly. Publication office, 10 Ferry Street, Concord, N. H. Editorial and General offices, 253 Broad- 
way, New York City. SOc a copy. $6.00 a year. Canada, $6.50. Foreign, $7.00. Entered as second-class matter at the Post Office at 
Concord, N. H., under the Act of Congress, March 3, 1879. Copyright, 1936, by The Living Age Corporation, New York, New York. 

The Living Age was established by E. Littell, in Boston, Massachusetts, May, 1844. It was first known as Litteix's Living Age, suc- 
ceeding LiUeU's Museum of Foreign Literature, which had been previously published in Philadelphia for more than twenty years. In a 
prepublication announcement of Littell's Living Age, in 1844, Mr. Littell said: ' The steamship has brought Europe, Asia, and Africa 
into our neighborhood; and will greatly multiply our connections, as Merchants, Travelers, and Politicians, with all parts of the world : 
so that much more than ever, it now becomes every intelligent American to be informed of the condition and changes of foreign countries. 

Subscribers are recjuested to send notices of changes of address three weeks before they are to take effect. Failure to send such notices 
will result in the incorrect forwarding of the next copy and delay in its receipt. Old and new addresses must both be given. 


W^ LEAD OFF our issue this month 
with a document of prime importance: an 
'Open Letter to the Japanese People' in 
which a prominent Chinese editor and 
publicist speaks with a frankness rare 
among Orientals of the mounting bitter- 
ness and hatred Japan's policy is engen- 
dering in China. Dr. Hu Shih's letter was 
first published in his own newspaper, the 
Independent Critic^ of Peiping. A few days 
later a carefully censored version of it was 
printed in Japan, along with an elabo- 
rately evasive (and much more character- 
istically Oriental) Japanese reply. Dr. 
Hu's letter and the translation of the 
Japanese answer were then widely re- 
printed in China, where they are being 
vigorously used for propaganda pur- 
poses in schools and colleges. Dr. Hu may 
therefore be said to give us, in as straight- 
shooting a form as we are likely to get it 
anywhere, the point of view of the Chi- 
nese intellectuals and students whose 
anti-Japanese demonstrations and riots 
have been giving the authorities of both 
nations so much concern lately, [p. 8] 

NEXT we have a statement by an Eng- 
lish-speaking German of the difficulties 
which lie in the way of the journalist who 
attempts to interpret Japan to the West. 
Mr. Giinther Stein, former foreign corre- 
spondent of the Berliner 'Tageblatt^ is now 
stationed in Tokyo, from whence he sends 
frequent reports to his present paper, the 
Pester IJoyd, and articles to the English 
and American weeklies. The piece which 
we reprint from the London Spectator 
tells of some of the obstacles to 'getting 
the story' in Japan, [p. 12] 

FROM JAPAN we return to the mainland 
of Asia, where we listen in on a conversa- 
tion which some Europeans and Ameri- 
cans held in a caf6 in Port Arthur a few 
weeks ago. Ella Maillart, one of the foreign 
correspondents of the Journal de Genive, 

was there to report what she heard, and, 
thanks to her, we are able to learn how 
Western businessmen stationed in the Far 
East feel about the future there, [p. 15] 

LAST MONTH we published a careful 
estimate by an anonymous contributor to 
the French topical weekly, Fu, of the 
strength of the various Fascist 'leagues' 
of France. This month we perform the 
same service for the forces of the Left, the 
various groups which together form the 
Popular Front. If France is peaceful to- 
day, it is so thanks to the watchful eyes 
and the strong arms of the members of 
this organization. And if France is 
plunged into civil war tomorrow, it will be 
these ' armies of the Left ' which will de- 
fend the liberties for which democracy 
stands, [p. 18J 

THREE YEARS ago this month the 
Nazi Reichstag, elected after Hitler had 
been appointed Chancellor, voted to 
grant the Nazi Cabinet dictatorial powers 
for four years; and then adjourned sine 
die, leaving the field to the administrative 
wing of the Government. What has Hitler 
accomplished since that day, and why are 
hopes for his speedy overthrow so much 
dimmer today than they were then? A 
special correspondent of the Manchester 
Guardian attempts to answer this. [p. 25] 

BUT IF the Nazis stay in power by giving 
away cigars and excursion tickets to the 
milder members of the German nation, 
they stay in power also by continuing the 
methods of persecution and repression 
with which they so shocked the world 
three years ago. At least that is the con- 
tention of Heinz Pol, whose article on 
German concentration camps we trans- 
late from a recent issue of the Neue 
WeltbUhnCy one of the leading German 
6migr6 weeklies, [p. 30] 

{Continued on page ^4) 


Founded by E. Littell 
In 1844 

Marchy igj6 Volume J50, Number 4434 

The World Over 

The death of king GEORGE V and the accession of King Ed- 
ward VIII will not leave British policy, foreign and domestic, unchanged. 
The young King's tastes in entertainment have been compared to his 
grandfather's; his political sympathies are another story. For King 
George V inherited from his father a strong anti-German, pro-French 
bias in foreign affairs. By 19 10, when George came to the throne, his 
country was already committed to the Franco-Russian Alliance, and 
British statesmanship had no choice but to fight Germany in 1914. In 
1936, however, British diplomacy is not committed to support the 
Franco-Soviet pact, and if King Edward VIII has anything to say about 
it, his country will not definitely join the anti-German coalition. 

As Prince of Wales, the new King took several occasions to show his 
sympathy for Germany and to express his hope that bygones would be 
bygones. Last June he proposed that the British Legion should send a 
good-will delegation to Germany to visit the Nazi ex-Servicemen. The 
Left-wing press at once raised the cry of Fascism and recalled that Ed- 
ward had also praised the British Officers' Training Corps and had at- 
tacked its critics as 'misguided cranks.' Yet during the General Strike of 
1926 he did not hide his sympathy for the miners, whom he later 
visited. His bitter comments on the condition of the underprivileged 
classes upset many aristocrats, and the report of a trip he made to the 
northern coalfields was never published. 

But it is precisely this sympathy for the poor ^like his desire for in- 
ternational reconciliation that lays the new King open to the charge of 


Fascism, because he is at the same time an advocate of military pre- 
paredness and might even speak to Hitler on the street. Whether or not 
King Edward will take the role of the man on horseback, for which he is 
superbly equipped, he is not likely to depart from the time-honored tra- 
dition of upholding the status quo. According to the Independent Labor 
Party's New Leader^ King George used his political influence; 

To support Ulster against the Home Rule Bill in 19 14. 
To support intervention against Soviet Russia in 1919. 
To secure the establishment of a National Government in 1931. 
To secure the restoration of King George of Greece. 

To advance the Hoare-Laval Peace Pact in order to save the Italian Royal 

From this Hne King Edward VIII is not likely to deviate sharply. 

THE NEWS as we go to press that the Baldwin government plans a 
two-billion-dollar rearmament program will not be greeted with com- 
plete enthusiasm in London financial circles. The Westminster Bank, for 
instance, one of the *Big Five,' has attacked the statement by another 
*Big Five' director to the effect that a costly rearmament program 
would promote money. S. Japhet and Company, a large international 
banking establishment with headquarters in London, has made the same 
point in its annual financial review. Since 1929 international trade in 
armaments has more than doubled, yet this represents only a portion of 
total domestic armament expenditures. Replying to the argument of 
Neville Chamberlain, Chancellor of the Exchequer, that armament ex- 
penditures stimulate employment, Japhet's financial review states: 

Heavy armament expenditure leads ipso facto to international nervousness 
and thereby is an additional stumbling block to genuine international trade and 
more so as this nervousness is exploited by the advocates of national self-suffi- 
ciency. This vicious circle is at the same time tending to perpetuate trade restric- 
tions as well as subsidies to certain home industries. 

Defense expenditure we must still have in this imperfect world, but a reduc- 
tion of this costly item and a release of capital, labor and raw materials for other 
more productive uses will only be achieved when, inter alia, the fallacy of rearma- 
ment as a means of furthering economic prosperity is realized. 

When international bankers preach disarmament that's news. 

THE CONDITION of the London banks at the end of 1935 explains 
these misgivings. Their current and deposit accounts showed the all- 
time record high figure of 2,091,313,000 a rise of 120,000,000 in a 
year, of 151,000,000 in two years, and of 330,000,000 since the crisis 
year of 193 1. What this figure means is that British industry ^like Amer- 
ican industry oflFers few opportunities for profitable investment. People 

/pj<5 THE WORLD OVER [3] 

with property prefer to keep their assets in a liquid condition, while the 
banks, in turn, prefer to put their money into short-term bills rather than 
long-term government securities. Already in December they had fore- 
seen and allowed for the additional government borrowings on which the 
rearmament program will have to be based. Needless to say, England is 
not alone in its defense preparations; in fact its delay in following the 
lead of Germany, Japan, Italy and the Soviet Union may cost it dear. 
Since 1932, for instance, the price of tungsten has risen more than three 
and one half times, and production is more than twice what it was in 1913 
the peak year of the pre-War arrhament race. Output has increased 
from 9,000 tons in 1932 to over 20,000 tons in 1935, and virtually all the 
increase went into armaments. Today the supply cannot meet the demand. 

THE OVERTHROW of the Laval Cabinet marks the beginning of a 
new period of crisis in France at least as serious as the one that led to the 
riots of February 6, 1934. And again the parties of the Left in general 
and the Radical Socialists in particular seem to have blundered. For 
months the six Radical members of the Laval Cabinet made no objec- 
tions to its pro-Italian foreign poHcy and to its subservience to the Bank 
of France on the question of currency devaluation. It was not the Radi- 
cals or even the Popular Front they had formed with the Socialists and 
Communists that forced Laval to support the League instead of Italy; it 
was the action of the British electorate in demanding the resignation of 
Sir Samuel Hoare. After that, even Laval saw that he could not hope to 
buy off Mussolini with a huge slice of Ethiopian territory. Meanwhile 
the militant opposition of the French people to the Fascist leagues forced 
Laval to modify his domestic policy and forbid the Croix de Feu to drill 
and demonstrate with arms. In view of these two concessions by Laval it 
is difficult to account for the withdrawal of the Radicals from his Cabi- 
net, for they had a much stronger case against him three months ago 
when he was working hand in glove with Mussolini abroad and with 
Colonel de La Rocque at home. The deflationary policies of the Bank of 
France were strangling all economic activity and bringing the parties of 
the Right the same unpopularity that the Republicans suffered from in 
the United States during the Presidential campaign of 1932. 

WHY THIS DECISION not merely to withdraw from the Laval Cabi- 
net but to accept responsibility during a period when the existing gov- 
ernment automatically courts displeasure? The answer probably lies in 
the personalities of the two chief Radical leaders ^Herriot and Daladier. 
It was Herriot who caused Laval's downfall by withdrawing from the 
Cabinet and then resigning his presidency of the party. He had never ap- 
proved of the Popular Front and, fearing disaster, wished to dissociate 


himself from the Radicals in order to be able to join a government of na- 
tional concentration at some future date. 

As for Daladier, he welcomed the opportunity to strengthen the hold 
of the Popular Front on the Radicals, not all of whom care to be asso- 
ciated with the Socialists and Communists. Yet in matters of foreign 
policy Herriot stands far to the left of Daladier. For the past fourteen 
years he has advocated closer Franco-Russian relations, and it was one of 
his governments that initiated the Franco-Soviet Pact. Daladier, on the 
other hand, rarely mentions the League of Nations, and it was one of his 
governments that sent Fernand de Brinon to Berlin and began making 
propaganda for the pacifism of Adolf Hitler. All France today is divided 
on the subject of whether to back Moscow or Berlin, but few individual 
Frenchmen pursue such contradictory policies as Herriot and Daladier. 
The confusion of these two leaders on matters of foreign and domestic 
policy reflects the confusion of the country as a whole. 

ON ONE TOPIC only does there seem to be no doubt whatever in 
France and that is the fate of the currency. The year 1936 has begun like 
every one of the past three or four years with prophecies that the devalu- 
ation of the franc by 20 per cent or 25 per cent is a matter of months if 
not of weeks. Indeed the only question is whether devaluation will come 
before or after the May elections. The answer, however, does not lie ex- 
clusively in Paris. A British loan might carry the franc over the elections, 
and if London were to make such a loan contingent upon certain dicta- 
tions of policy, the result on the United States might be extremely un- 
pleasant. No one knows how large a part French and foreign funds have 
played in the recent rise on Wall Street, but if the franc were to be stabi- 
lized on gold at a lower level, considerable funds that moved across the 
Atlantic during 1935 would return to Paris. Furthermore, the dominant 
financial groups in New York and London have not forgiven President 
Roosevelt for torpedoing the World Economic Conference of 1933 and 
would like nothing better than to embarrass him with a stock market 
slump during the election year. The London Economist hints that 1936 
may see another burst of competitive currency devaluation. 

WHILE THE SOVIET UNION leads all nations in its oil exports to 
Fascist Italy, it also welcomes financial credits from Nazi Germany. 
Chairman Molotov of the Central Executive Committee of the Soviet 
Union has reported that the German government, which granted his own 
Government a five-year credit of 250 million marks last April, wants to 
oflFer still larger credits over a ten-year period. 'Full of contradictions as 
the situation in modern Germany is,' announced Molotov, 'we do not 
decline to consider this practical offer of the German government.' 

/pj(5 THE WORLD OVER [5] 

Needless to say, the offer cuts two ways; in fact it works more to the 
disadvantage of Germany than of Russia, for the Russians will be the 
ones to reap the benefit in the form of superior equipment. But the Ger- 
mans cannot be too scrupulous, provided their industries get the Russian 
orders. Profits are increasing; prices of luxury goods doubled during 
December; but there is a real shortage of butter, fats, meat and eggs. 
Even those with the money to buy food must stand in line and receive 
rations as in wartime. In consequence Doctors Goebbels and Ley, repre- 
senting the Propaganda Department and the Labor Front respectively, 
have declared war on Doctor Schacht, while Goring favors a coup d'etat 
by the army if Goebbels and Ley make trouble. Hitler stands with 
Schacht, but even his power has shown some signs of decay. He has 
agreed, for instance, to a ruling by his Cabinet members to submit his 
speeches to them for approval before they are issued for publication in 
Germany or abroad. He no longer speaks direct by radio but has a record 
made of the approved portions of his talks and these are broadcast after 
the actual meeting. Such details may mean much or little, but seen in 
conjunction with a general economic deterioration they do not make the 
future of National Socialist Germany look too hopeful. 

GERMANY APPEARS ALSO to have suffered a reverse abroad. 
Colonel Beck, Poland's Foreign Minister, made a speech before Parlia- 
ment in the middle of January and did not mention the subject of 
* bilateral pacts ' which he had endorsed only a year before. This omis- 
sion and its significance were not lost on the Berliner Tageblatt^ which 
criticized him for his sudden conversion to collective agreements and 
regional organizations. Colonel Beck reminded the Soviet Union that 
Poland had been the first to sign one of its non-aggression treaties back in 
1932, and he paid special homage to Great Britain: 

I have no right to define Great Britain as one of the parties to the Abyssinian 
dispute, for this is being handled in accordance with the prescribed procedure of 
the League. Our relations with Great Britain are of the best, as is shown by ac- 
tivities in Geneva and by the favorable development of our economic intercourse 
with that country. Any differences between Great Britain's fundamental aims in 
Europe and the vital interests of our policy seem to be improbable. 

While calling the 'universalism' of the League a failure, he did in- 
dicate that Poland would continue to support that organization: 

We do not pass judgment on the Covenant of the League, nor upon its possible 
reform. But, so long as it is recognized by a great number of countries, it binds us 
equally with the others: no more, but no less. We cannot contribute to the weak- 
ening of this instrument of international collaboration. This consideration was 
decisive in the line of action which we took at Geneva (on the Italo-Abyssinian 


Between the lines of these utterances any nation or group of nations 
that wants Polish cooperation can read the message that 'Barkis is 
willin' ' at a price. 

GERMAN MINORITIES in the three Little Entente countries have 
become one of the most embarrassing problems in modern Europe. 
Rumania and Yugoslavia have about halfa million citizens each of Ger- 
man origin; Czechoslovakia has three-and-a-half millions. But the Ger- 
mans of Rumania and Yugoslavia enjoy greater prosperity than the 
average citizens where the Czechoslovak Germans enjoy less. There are 
700,000 unemployed in Czechoslovakia and half of these are Germans 
who form only 22 per cent of the total population. Partly because of this 
distress and partly because of their proximity to the Third Reich, no less 
than 70 per cent of the Germans in Czechoslovakia have joined a politi- 
cal party on the Nazi model, although its leader, Conrad Henlein, denies 
having any personal contact with Hitler. 

The chief resistance to Henlein comes, not from the Czechs, but from 
the workers, both Czech and German; the employing class, on the other 
hand, supports his anti-Marxist doctrines. Gangs of thugs beat up 
Socialists and Communists while the German radio urges Henlein 's fol- 
lowers on. The Czechs believe that Nazi Germany aims to destroy their 
state, but they do not take Henlein's emotionalism seriously and wait for 
the future to discredit him. The German minority, in turn, reacts with 
increased violence because they see their birth-rate falling while the 
Czech birth-rate rises. Meanwhile the smaller German minorities in 
Rumania and Yugoslavia show fewer symptoms of unrest and less desire 
for unity. Some subscribe to Hitler's racial doctrines; others are more 
inclined to let well enough alone; and it is this latter element, curiously 
enough, that has the support of the German Nazis. For the Third Reich 
knows that the German minorities in Rumania and Yugoslavia ^unlike 
the much larger German group in Czechoslovakia can accomplish noth- 
ing independently. On the other hand, the governments of both countries, 
especially in army circles, have pro-German and anti-French tendencies 
which might bring them over into the Nazi camp. 

ITALY'S INVASION of Ethiopia has given rise to a series of diplo- 
matic maneuvers in the Near East. Turkey, Iran, Iraq and Afghanistan 
have drafted a non-aggression pact which Arabia, Yemen and Trans- 
jordania may also sign. But whatever comes of this particular project, 
there is no doubt that the rising nationalist movement has become the 
most important single factor in the Near East. Mustapha Kemal was the 
first man to organize this sentiment, and Turkey therefore stands to reap 
the reward of his foresight. When his troops defeated the Greeks in 

igs6 THE WORLD OVER [7] 

1922, Kemal really defeated Great Britain, and he did so without ac- 
cepting the aid that the Soviet Union offered. Foreseeing Anglo-Russian 
rivalry, he made Turkey a neutral buffer state, and then, by liquidating 
the Moslem religion, he removed many religious controversies from the 
political arena. In this way Kemal assured Turkey's immunity from 
Russian or British attack and at the same time set an example of anti- 
clericalism that was long overdue in the Mohammedan world. The tem- 
poral ruler of Turkey no longer claimed spiritual leadership over all 
Mohammedan peoples. Today Kemal stands at the head of the inde- 
pendent nations of the Near East and has led them rather more in the 
Russian than in the English camp. Ibn Saud of Arabia, on the other 
hand, stands at the head of the Pan-Arabian movement, which is more 
or less under British influence. These two leaders, the one a hard-drink- 
ing agnostic, the other a teetotalling Moslem fanatic, have it in their 
power to dictate terms to all the Great Powers in the Near East. 

THE YEAR 1935 saw Japan break many records. The population of all 
the possessions of the Island Empire surpassed 100 million, and indus- 
trial production doubled as compared with 1928. The industries working 
for armaments and exports showed the greatest gains, and total exports 
increased 17 per cent, while imports advanced only 10 per cent. The 
total volume of trade exceeded 5 billion yen for the first time in Japanese 
history, and the unfavorable trade balance of only 30 million yen was 
more than overbalanced by the so-called 'invisible imports' from foreign 

Three factors made these records possible first and foremost the 
superior efficiency of Japanese factories in turning out low-cost goods; 
second, increased exports to the United States; third, the ItaHan-Ethio- 
pian war, which opened several markets to the Japanese. Of particular 
interest to American citizens, who are being urged by such British 
spokesmen as General Smuts and Sir Frederick Whyte to fight Japan in 
behalf of England, is the fact that Japanese-American trade is now three 
times as great as Chinese-American trade. The fly in the ointment lies in 
the Japanese budget. This will show a deficit of 757,500,000 yen, or two- 
thirds of the total government expenditures, excluding the military and 
naval appropriations, which, in turn, account for 46^^ per cent of all 

A Chinese editor talks turkey to the 
Japanese, and two European journal- 
ists report on conditions in the East. 

The World Looks 

News and Views 
FROM THE Orient 

I. An Open Letter to the Japanese People 
By Dr. Hu Shih 

Translated by Yu Hsi-chicn 
From the Independent Critic, Peiping Independent Weekly 


O THE Japanese People: cannot restrain myself any longer 

This open letter is written in com- from laying bare to you what is in my 

pliance with a request made by one of heart. 

your prominent scholars, Mr. Taka- The first message that I wish to 

nobu Murobuse, three months ago. My convey to you is: I sincerely beseech 

delay in writing it has been due partly that from now on you will cease to talk 

to pressure of affairs during the past about the so-called ' Sino-Japanese 

few months; but the main reason is amity.' Whenever during the past four 

rather that I doubt very much whether years I have heard any Japanese use 

such a letter will ever serve any good this sweet-sounding phrase, it has al- 

purpose at all. If I should write in a ways given me a sickly feeling ofpain 

sweet tone to please you, it would be the same feeling of pain that I suf- 

against my conscience. And if I should fered whenever I heard any Japanese 

allow myself to speak straight from my militarist speak of the * rule of benevo- 

heart, I am afraid that you would lence.' To speak frankly, I do not 

turn a deaf ear to me. understand what these phrases mean. 

Nevertheless, I have now made up Your militarists talk about the 'rule 

my mind to write this letter because of benevolence,' when everyone can 

the strained relationship between see that what they really mean is the 

China and Japan has recently pro- 'rule of malevolence.' And you talk 

gressed so much for the worse that I about striving for Sino-Japanese mu- 



tual help and amity when, as a mat- 
ter of fact, every one can see that you 
are only doing your utmost to sow the 
seeds of mutual hatred and enmity. 
I presume that you must have enough 
sentiment and common sense to realize 
that under such circumstances it is 
entirely meaningless to talk about 
* Sino-Japanese amity.' 

I wish that you would turn over in 
your minds the following questions: 
what have you accomplished in your 
four years of endeavor for mutual 
amity? Are we more kindly disposed 
toward each other, or are we plunged 
in even deeper hatred? 

It was only last June that the Chi- 
nese Government was coerced by the 
Japanese militarists into issuing a 
'Love Your Neighbor' decree pro- 
hibiting all anti-Japanese speech and 
activities. It is true that the decree has 
succeeded in suppressing all anti- 
Japanese speech and activities. But it 
must also be true that the decree of a 
government, no matter how stringent, 
can never suppress the inner thoughts 
and emotions of a people. And as it is 
impossible for these thoughts and 
sentiments thoughts and sentiments 
of deep hatred to find expression 
through their proper channels, it is but 
natural that they should become even 
more firmly entrenched in their hearts 
and take on an ever deeper and 
deeper hue. This is but common sense 
about human nature. It is difficult to 
understand why the Japanese mili- 
tarists and citizens should have ut- 
terly overlooked it. 

Therefore my first admonition to 
you is: I pray that you will stop your 
talk of * Sino-Japanese amity.' Our 
present problem is essentially one of 
finding a way to end ' Sino-Japanese 
enmity,' not one of promoting * Sino- 

Japanese amity.' So long as this 
mutual hatred is not dissolved, all 
talk about friendship and amity is 
simply insult on the part of the Japa- 
nese, and false professions on the part 
of the Chinese. 


The second message that I wish to 
give you is: I sincerely hope that you 
will not treat lightly the hatred of a 
people numbering four hundred mil- 
lions. * Even the sting of a small wasp 
is poisonous;' it will not be hard for 
you to imagine what injury may re- 
sult to you from the deep resentment 
of four hundred million people. 

I believe you must agree with me 
that for the past four years the Chi- 
nese Government and people, with all 
their patience and submission, have 
gone far enough in prostrating them- 
selves before your unreasonable de- 
mands demands backed by force. 
This they have done only because 
they recognize the superiority of your 
army and navy and have tried to avoid 
every possibility of armed conflict, so 
that under this forced submission 
they might be given a chance to re- 
build their badly shattered nation. 

But as we watch patiently the ac- 
tivities of your militarists, we have 
finally come to the painful realization 
that there is no limit to their greedi- 
ness. Manchuria is not big enough for 
them, so they must have Jehol. Still 
not satisfied, they invaded the eastern 
part of Chahar. And now even the 
demilitarized zone of northeastern 
Hopei will not satiate their greed for 
another puppet state in the five prov- 
inces of Northern China. And so, step 
by step, they are eating their way into 
the heart of China. True it is that 
there is no limit to their greediness; 




but they must have overlooked the 
fact that there is a limit to Chinese 
patience and submission. And the 
time may come when the Chinese 
people, maddened by too much insult 
and hatred, will make a desperate 
effort to hit back. 

The recent resistance of Abyssinia 
against Italian invasion could hardly 
have given us a better example or one 
that more quickly puts us to shame 
and incites us to fresh effort. 'Can't 
we catch up even with the Abyssin- 
ians.^' is a current query that can be 
heard everywhere in China. 

Be it granted that to catch up with 
the Abyssinians is no easy task for the 
Chinese, still I can assure you of one 
fact: should it come about that China 
be pressed so hard that she has no 
way out, then there will be only one 
thing left for her to do stake every- 
thing in a desperate counter-attack, 
let her big cities and industrial centers 
be blown up by the most up-to-date, 
deadly bombers and cannon. Two 
years ago, one of your military leaders 
sounded a 'policy of ruins.' If that is 
what your country is going to do with 
China, then you can be assured that 
we have really come to our journey's 
end and are bound to find some way 
out. What you have allowed us is a 
narrow path the path of the life- 
and-death struggle of a bound animal, 
the path of counteracting the Japa- 
nese 'policy of ruins' by the Chinese 
'policy of ruins.' And it is very doubt- 
ful whether Japan will benefit much 
by a ruined China. 

I hope you can be convinced of this 
truth: so long as any two countries 
have decided to go to war, it is quite 
usual for the strong to conquer the 
weak; but it need not necessarily 
foster hatred in the mind of the 

defeated. The Russo-Japanese alli- 
ance was concluded not more than 
five years after the Russo-Japanese 
War. It was not more than ten years 
after the Sino-Japanese War that the 
majority of Chinese sympathized with 
the Japanese in their war with Russia. 
Again, it was not long after being de- 
feated by Prussia that Austria entered 
into alliance with her former adver- 
sary. Defeat in battle does not neces- 
sarily create hatred in one's mind. It 
is only when one is struck without 
warning, or taken advantage of while 
in so straitened a position that he is 
unable either to strike back or stand 
and defend himself the sort of thing 
that a country like Japan, where 
chivalry has long been a social tradi- 
tion, should not stoop to do that one 
feels most embittered. 


My third message to you is: as an 
admirer of Japan, I strongly advise 
that you take care not to despoil your- 
selves of your marvelous achievements 
of the past and the great future that 
lies before you. The great achieve- 
ments of Japan in the past sixty years 
not only present a glorious picture of 
the Japanese people, but may also be 
viewed as one of the great 'miracles' 
of all mankind. Anyone who reads the 
glorious records of Japanese history in 
the past sixty years cannot help feel- 
ing both awe and admiration. 

But let me remind you of another 
Chinese proverb: 'A task well started, 
if not carried on in the same good 
spirit, is likely to end sadly.' It may 
take endless pains for a people to build 
up a great country, but it takes only a 
moment's rashness to break it into 
pieces. I am not going to cite instances 




from the huge empires of the past. It 
was only about two hundred years ago 
that Spain occupied about half of the 
globe, and her colonies took up every 
corner of the earth. But where is her 
big empire now? The swiftness with 
which Japan rose to a world Power 
could not find a better parallel than 
the Germany before the Great War. 
Before 19 14, Germany excelled every 
country in almost everything mili- 
tary equipment, political organization, 
industry, commerce, culture, science, 
philosophy, music and art. But the 
destructive effect of four years' 
wretched warfare turned this most 
admired country into the most dis- 
orderly and impoverished country in 
the world. In spite of her hard struggle 
for nearly twenty years, her position 
now is still far below her pre-War 
status. The more we examine these 
historical instances, the more we are 
convinced that we should 'be careful 
to end well.' 

No country can expect a more prom- 
ising future than Japan. Her progress 
will be obstructed by nobody. Her only 
obstacle is her own desire to destroy 

Mr. Arnold Toynbee, an English 
student of international relations, 
pointed out three years ago that the 
reckless behavior of the Japanese 
militarists amounts to no less than 
hastening the suicidal process for the 
whole Japanese people. 

I profess candidly that I have ever 
been one of those who hold the highest 
opinion of the past achievements of 
the Japanese people. I have conceived 
of the great future that is in store for 
Japan; of the unbroken line of her suc- 
cessive emperors, all coming from one 
family; of the diligent, thrifty and 
patriotic spirit of her people; of her 

tradition of chivalry, love of art, and 
studious and scholarly atmosphere. I 
have observed in her people a combi- 
nation of the best traits of both the 
German and the English and have 
visualized the future Japan as de- 
veloping peacefully into the most ad- 
mired and respected country in the 

But as I follow the recent political 
tendencies of Japan, I have great mis- 
givings about her future development. 
In the first place, the democratic con- 
stitutional spirit manifested in her 
political organization for the past 
sixty years was within a very short 
period replaced by the dictatorship of 
a few militarists. Secondly, a country 
always noted for political order and 
discipline, she now suffers a sudden 
change to political dislocation and de- 
rangement, so that a foreigner is often 
bewildered as to wherein lies her po- 
litical sovereignty and wherein her 
military sovereignty. Thirdly, Japan, 
a country that has always been ad- 
mired and respected, is now feared as a 
menace to world peace, and is sur- 
rounded by enemies at every turn. 
Fourthly, the new international situa- 
tion created by the Japanese force 
could only be maintained in statu quo 
by an even greater force, which 
necessitates an unlimited expansion 
of her armaments. The Japanese ex- 
pansion of armaments will in turn 
encourage other powers to start an 
armament race, and may eventually 
precipitate the outbreak of another 
World War. 

With a huge seized territory in 
hand, the hatred of four hundred mil- 
lion people, a strong military oppo- 
nent on land, and two strong naval 
rivals at sea, Japan has never needed 
such wise statesmanship and far- 




sightedness to handle a situation as 
she does now. A slight deviation from 
the right course will result in the most 
deplorable consequences and plunge 
the whole nation headlong into self- 
destruction ! 

The ancient saying 'check your 
horse speedily at the edge of a preci- 
pice' is the hardest golden rule for any 
statesman to follow, and there have 
been very few such instances in the 
political history of the whole human 
race. But ' there is no end to the bitter 
sea ahead, while a safe beach is just at 
your back.' The danger of not turning 

back and landing on the safe beach is 

Therefore my last admonition to 
you is: I hope you will highly treasure 
the glorious achievements of your 
past, as well as your bright prospects 
for a great future. I feel constrained to 
offer you sincerely the above advice, 
because I do not believe that the 
annihilation of Japan would be a 
blessing either to China or to the 
world at large. 

Yours sincerely, 

Hu Shih 

II, News from Japan 
By GuNTHER Stein 

From the Spectator, London Conservative Weekly 

XHE difficulties of a correspondent 
in Japan are numerous. They are 
partly artificial, though not, perhaps, 
to the same extent as in Soviet Russia, 
Italy or Germany. More important 
are the natural obstacles; and these 
are so immense that the authorities 
can content themselves with a small 
measure of interference. Even to a 
correspondent who has lived in Japan 
for many years the country remains, 
in many of its aspects, a closed book. 
He will still divine rather than know 
the essential facts. 

The chief barrier is the language. To 
learn Japanese in the same way as an 
English journalist at, say, Berlin or 
Paris can learn German or French 
would take not less than ten years of 
intensive, and perhaps exclusive, study. 
A superficial knowledge of colloquial 
terms, which is quickly acquired, may 
be sufficient for deaHng with the taxi- 
driver, the maid-servant, the shop 

assistant or the waitress. It does noth- 
ing to facilitate journalistic work. 
The reading of Japanese newspapers 
can be approached only with a real 
knowledge of at least three thousand 
complicated Chinese symbols in all 
their manifold individual and com- 
posite meanings. 

It is nearly impossible, moreover, to 
obtain a satisfactory assistant who 
will not merely translate but select 
matters worth translating. Most for- 
eigners, therefore, have no means of 
opening up the mine of information 
contained in the large and largely 
topical Japanese book literature, while 
acquaintance. with the important po- 
litical magazines must remain hap- 
hazard and incomplete. The cause of 
this difficulty is not merely the general 
lack of linguistic ability; it is largely 
the traditional reticence of every 
Japanese towards the foreigner an 
attitude which survives even personal 




friendship. In centuries of isolation 
this reserve has become a part of the 
Japanese character. A brief period of 
relaxation during the * liberal ' political 
experiment has been completely wiped 
out by recent propaganda of the 
'national emergency.' 

Further difficulties arise from the 
lack of analytical and critical thinking, 
which is a conscious aim of Japanese 
education. It is often for this reason 
that the simplest questions fail to 
draw satisfactory replies. Finally, the 
mass of cumbersome traditions of 
polite intercourse threatens to envelop 
the enthusiasm of the searching jour- 
nalist in an avalanche of misunder- 
standing and waste of time, of frustra- 
tion and angry struggle. Many are the 
persons who combine to hinder, inten- 
tionally or otherwise, the correspond- 
ent's work. There is the translator 
who omits or waters down a report 
* because it might give an unfavorable 
impression.' There is the policeman in 
uniform or mufti who on journeys 
overland appears at the hotel with the 
dawn and appoints himself guide and 
censor of the visitor's itinerary he is 
apt to interpret any use of the camera 
as a dangerous act: the other day a 
group of Americans were arrested 
after photographing rows of radishes 
in a drying shed. There is the amiable 
local dignitary who will not under- 
stand that the foreigners have come 
for any purpose but to consume long, 
sumptuous meals. 

To be a policeman appears to be 
the day-dream of every Japanese. 
Some time ago I was traveling to- 
gether with an American journalist 
when we were visited in our rooms 
by a man who desired to know, in 
a mixture of Japanese and English, 
details of our respective age, place of 

birth, married state, number of chil- 
dren, purpose and time of sojourn, and 
political views. He made copious notes 
of our willing answers, and it was only 
afterwards that we discovered him to 
be an ordinary hotel guest without any 
connexion with the authorities. 

Again, the Japanese newspapers do 
not oflFer the information usually 
found in the European or American 
Press. They are frequently misleading, 
and their idea of truth is oriental, that 
is to say, subjective. Their aim is to 
achieve the largest possible circulation 
with the least possible offence to the 
authorities. Accordingly they not only 
respect the recognized political 'ta- 
boos,' but also censor themselves so 
effectively that the Government rarely 
has occasion to intervene. The Press 
enjoys freedom of criticism only in 
the sense of still greater patriotic 
fervor; otherwise its freedom lies 
mainly in an extraordinary populariza- 
tion of public personalities. Thus the 
Prime Minister's love of Sake, or the 
family affairs of Japanese diplomats, 
can be discussed without reserve. 
On the other hand the news service, 
particularly that from China, is 
heavily influenced and usually reflects 
without balance the existing disa- 
greements between Japanese diplo- 
macy and Japanese generals. 


Among the constructive supports 
of the Tokyo correspondent is the 
tri-weekly meeting with the Director 
of the Information Department in the 
Foreign Office, Mr. Eiji Amau. The 
assistance offered is not very sub- 
stantial, and often the exchange of 
views with one's colleagues in the 
ante-chamber is far more productive. 




Even at these meetings a strict cere- 
monial is observed. Regular visitors 
have their own reserved seats ranged 
according to the importance of their 
journals. Confronting Mr. Amau is 
his principal adversary, the corre- 
spondent of the Soviet Tass agency; 
next to him the seasoned representa- 
tive of an American agency, who acts 
as unofficial spokesman of the foreign 
journalists; further on the greatly 
respected correspondent of the London 
and New York 'j'imes, and the repre- 
sentatives of Reuter and Havas. In 
the background there are some twenty 
other journalists from many countries. 
Mr. Amau, who is about forty-five 
and has uncommonly, curly hair, a 
short moustache, and vivid eyes, talks 
informally, though with an undertone 
of sarcasm which is thrown back by 
his visitors. 

Most questions are answered by 
stereotyped phrases such as ' I have no 
information on this matter.' Equally 
unhelpful are the familiar explanations 
about 'Japan's responsibility as the 
only stabilizing factor in the Far 
East;* about Japanese intentions sadly 
misjudged by the outside world; about 
the 'insincerity' of China; the Red 
menace; the unjustified attempt of 
Great Britain to interfere in China; 
the naval egotism of the United 
States; and the 'real independence' of 
Manchukuo. It is only on rare occa- 
sions that these discussions produce a 
sensational statement of policy, usu- 
ally couched in terms of a warning to 
the world at large. 

The journalist who wants to under- 
stand and interpret what is going on is 
thrown, apart from field work on cross- 
country journeys, upon the study of 
Japanese history. Nowhere does his- 

tory repeat itself so thoroughly, with 
whatever variations, as in this single- 
minded country whose tactical tradi- 
tions have become national charac- 
teristics as much as its political aims 
have grown into a State religion. 
What the official spokesman will say 
tomorrow about the conflict with 
North China, Japanese Ministers and 
diplomats have said thirty or forty 
years ago with regard to Korea and 
three or four years ago about Man- 
churia. How the latest struggle be- 
tween services and bureaucracy over 
the spoils of the budget is likely to end 
can be judged pretty accurately from 
the domestic history of the last dec- 
ades, provided the observer is able at 
the same time to judge the political 

Curiously enough it is not very 
difficult, after some time spent in 
Japan, to get what old hands call the 
' smell ' of the political atmosphere 
here. It is far more difficult to obtain 
immediate, concrete information to 
confirm a guess which afterwards 
proves to have been quite correct. 
With all their love of secretiveness, 
with all the careful preservation of 
'face' in the individual case, the 
Japanese are no cleverer than other 
people in disguising the unconscious 
expression of their moods and inten- 
tions. And this accessibility of the 
Japanese atmosphere is the answer to 
the question how foreign correspond- 
ents, and foreign diplomatists, for that 
matter, manage time and again in the 
face of enormous difficulties to give a 
picture of Japanese developments 
which later on, when facts become 
available, turns out to have been no 
less reliable than reports sent from 
countries free of those limitations. 




in. The Open Door in Manchukuo 

By Ella Maillart 
Translated from the "Journal de Geneve, Geneva Liberal Daily 


.LTHOUGH it claims to be the 
seat of the Kwantung Government, 
Port Arthur is a sleepy city. One feels 
that the Japanese consider that they 
have only one lease there the one 
gained from their first victory over the 
white race, in the Russo-Japanese 

There, as everywhere else, my arms 
were filled with pamphlets propa- 
ganda and statistics. Unless I resisted, 
I was reduced to going everywhere 
burdened by these printed documents 
irrefutable ones, no doubt. The 
Japanese bent in two saluting me, vy- 
ing with each other in order to impress 
their courtesy upon my European 

But tonight I am with people of my 
own race. And they talk, happy to 
meet someone to whom their problems 
are still new. The conversation touches 
upon all the burning questions of the 
day and, directed by the most com- 
petent persons among them, focuses 
upon the question that I have often 
wanted to have discussed. 

'The Lytton report? You make me 
laugh! It is the work of people who 
have not the sHghtest idea of the Far 
East. What should be done.? It is sim- 
ple. . . . Boy, a whiskey! . . . You 
should merely recognize the independ- 
ence of Manchukuo, establish em- 
bassies and above all send commercial 
attaches. No, Madam, today it is too 
late to do anything else: the Japanese 
are safely installed, all the best posi- 
tions are taken. One of these days they 

will be able to say with a smile: "But 
the country has always been open to 
all." You see, they were afraid of our 
competition, and so they have stolen 
a march or two on us.' 

*I see. Madam, that you are trou- 
bled by the principle of the Open 
Door.' This time it is a merchant who 
cross-examines me. Heavy, with a 
poise gained from fifteen years of 
China, he speaks slowly, like a pro- 
fessor. 'This Open Door does exist, so 
the Japanese statesmen claim at 
least those of them who fear the ef- 
fects of extreme state socialism, and 
those who see the day when, Japanese 
dumping having ceased to be profit- 
able, they will have to appeal to for- 
eign capital.' 

One of my hosts expounds to me 
the primary aspects of the question. 

'All this is well and good, my 
friends, but there is the army. You 
say "Ah!" Madam, and you are right. 
The army is the state. The army 
doesn't want recognition of Man- 
chukuo, because as long as it stays un- 
recognized, it is the army that will 
remain in control. The country is the 
army's political colony, its strategic 

'And what the devil would busi- 
nessmen do here,' adds another, 'if 
not diminish the importance of the 
militarists? And what about the Chi- 
nese? Do you believe that one could 
let them have a voice in the matter, 
here more than at Jehol or the north of 
China, where they are maneuvered 




around as the situation demands? 
. . . Boy, come here.' 

And I think of all the uniforms I 
have come across, of all the lorries, all 
the rolls of barbed wire, of the enor- 
mous sabres in their sharkskin sheathes, 
of the officers' hard faces. Yes, the 
army is in its domain and will not stir 
from it. But a question burns my lips. 
Will the war break out here.'' This 
time they interrupt each other in their 
eagerness to reply. 

'Good Lord, with whom.? With the 
Russians? But they have just ceded 
their Chinese Eastern Railway, that 
apple of discord, and besides, everyone 
is afraid, if of nothing else, at least of 
not having enough strength for war. 
If this were not the case, wouldn't 
the Japanese have taken Siberia away 
from the Soviets three years ago, when 
Moscow was still convalescing ? * 

'As for a war to annex Mongolia,' a 
bass voice finishes the argument, 'it is 
still premature, at least, if the Japa- 
nese haven't yet got delusions of 
grandeur. They first have to digest 
Manchuria, which cost them dearly,' 
he adds with a great laugh. 


In the temporary lull caused by the 
arrival of the boy charged with re- 
filling the glasses, I think of all the 
commercial missions which have left 
Manchukuo with almost empty hands. 
Why? Couldn't they do business? 

'Our business. Madam? Killed by 
competition. The way things are, we 
should all of us go away, one after 
another. Yes, yes, I know, the Open 
Door of Manchukuo. The door is 
open, of course, but it is only to let 
us out. It is not that Japan doesn't 
want foreign capital. On the contrary. 

Simply that she doesn't want other 
interests established here.' 

'We ought to show Mademoiselle 
Maillart the tobacco industry,' inter- 
poses an American who had hitherto 
been silent. 'It is charming. The 
British-American Tobacco Company 
has been paying the State stamp 
duties of about 20,000,000 French 
francs a year. A sizable sum, isn't it? 
Then a Japanese cigarette mill and a 
Manchukuoan tobacco monopoly were 
established here. We will surely be 
ruined. And mind you, it is contrary 
to the treaty.' 

This time they are all excited. 

'And the oil situation? Still better!' 

Better? I count on my fingers. There 
is the Standard Oil, Asiatic Petroleum, 
Texaco ... I must have spoken out 
loud, for I am interrupted: 

'Not for a long time.' 

'But,' I say, 'what about the as- 
surance given the foreign companies 
that they will be able to import the 
same amount of oil as in the past?* 

* You don't know the Japanese. They 
have specified nothing, and Manchu- 
kuo doesn't buy anything from us 
except the raw oil. Consequently 
retail trade, the only kind that could 
improve our situation here, is out of 
the question. And then the costly 
foreign equipment is bought up by the 
distributing monopoly at a disgust- 
ingly low price.' 

'Well calculated.' 

'Better than you think. The Min- 
ister of Finance has deigned to tell us 
that we are going to lose money, that 
he is broken-hearted; but, says he, 
since it is a question of State interest 
and the protection of national re- 
sources. . . !* 

This time I follow them. How many 
times have they spoken to me about 




the war oil reserves to be stored out- 
side of the Japanese metropolis? 
Weren't all the tanks of Yokohama 
destroyed in 1923, at the time of the 
earthquake ? 

'The new refinery at Dairen is 
already producing 5,000,000 gallons a 
year. One can anticipate double that 
amount for next year; as a matter 
of fact, one can count on it. Just 
imagine a monopoly with a capital of 
25 million, the Government being the 
shareholder for one quarter of this. 
South Manchuria for a half . . .' 

'And the last quarter?' 

'Can't you guess? The rivals Mit- 
sui-Mitsubishi, associated for once, 
doubtless to worry the militarists into 
taking a hand in the management of 
the country.' 

All the same, I know that 1 1,000,000 
gallons have been imported during the 
past year. 

* But think of the role that Fushun 
is going to play in the oil situation,' 
one of my interlocutors interrupts. 
'You ought to go and see this. Madam. 
It is only in Tonkin that you can find 
such a charcoal plant. The charcoal is 
extracted from bituminous schists, the 
supply of which is estimated at five 
billion tons. By exploiting these 
schists the Japanese will have enough 
to provision their navy for the next 
seventy-five years.' 

Fushun depends for its transporta- 
tion upon the South Manchuria Rail- 
way, as does the port of Dairen, and 
also the mines, factories, forests, hos- 
pitals, schools, farms and hotels which 
are situated on ground near the rail- 
roads. These represent enormous capi- 
tal, which must be closely watched. 
So the Japanese claim that four years 
ago, when the Chinese constructed 
railroads that would have ruined the 

South Manchuria Railway, they were 
forced to attack China in order to 
protect their invested capital. 

Anarchy reigned under Chang Tso- 
lin before the 'incident' of 193 1 (they 
never call it war, because war was 
never declared). Manchuria was any- 
body's prey who wanted to take it. 
According to the Japanese, they could 
not run the risk of having Russia take 
possession of it. And although there 
are 30 million Chinese in the country, 
it never really belonged to China, they 
say, for it was the Manchus who 
conquered the Middle Kingdom. 

'To tell the truth,' concludes the 
American, 'the Japanese wanted to 
have a hand in Asia in order to begin 
their conquest of the continent, and 
they lacked raw materials, as well as 
an outlet for their congested produc- 
tion. They have to provide a livelihood 
for 90 million of their subjects, in- 
creased by a million each year, and 
they have no place to emigrate to.' 

* To establish their supremacy in Asia 
is the only policy that they can follow 
in view of their economic situation. 
They are obstinate and devoted to 
their country even to death. If we 
could only agree to conceal our tech- 
nical progress, if only for a time, from 
them . . .' 

' It is our weakness that makes them 
strong. They are anxious to have a 
strong ally in Europe . . .' 

'Isn't Japan today,' I venture, 'on 
the way to aiding Ethiopia by all the 
means in her power, and doesn't she 
find herself for that reason on the same 
side as England?' 

'Yes,' replies an Englishman. 'But 
Japan isn't trying to join us as an ally; 
her purpose is to oppose the white race 
by supporting the colored race. Once 
again they profit by our mistakes.' 

Here is an appraisal by an anonymous 
observer of the fighting forces at the 
disposal of the French Popular Front. 

the LEFT 

Translated from Vu 
Paris Topical Weekly 


.FTER the demonstrations by the 
forces of the Right and of the Left 
which took place on July 14th last at 
the fitoile and the Bastille respec- 
tively, some people who claim to have 
seen them declared: 'The Popular 
Front is made up of voters, but the 
National Front is made up of soldiers.' 
These formulas have never been 
more than very rough approximations, 
and today they are growing less and 
less true to the realities, and even ap- 
pearances, of the situation. If the 
Leagues, and at their head the Croix 
de Feu, are managing to preserve over 
their adversaries a very clear military 
superiority, the Popular Front is be- 
coming increasingly something more 
than a vague group united by political 
and sentimental ties. The task of de- 
fending themselves against an eventual 
attack by the Right on the Govern- 
ment, and even against the prelim- 
inary steps toward such an attack, has 
in fact evoked in the ranks of the Left 

and the extreme Left a will to strike 
back which has already been trans- 
lated into organizational measures 
with a view to street fighting. 

The organization is strictly defen- 
sive, no doubt, but it borrows from 
classical strategy and tactics many of 
their most effective elements. Inci- 
dents like that of the Villepinte farm 
have multiplied and are likely to be 
revived frequently and on a larger 
scale in the near future if nothing hap- 
pens in the meantime to modify our 
political habits and our political 

The members of the Leagues 
were amazed and will be amazed 
again. That . is because they do not 
realize, among other things, that the 
Popular Front is not merely a few mil- 
lion citizens in the hands of a few 
demagogues but a coalition of parties, 
syndicates and groups, each of which 
represents a considerable fighting 
power. As long as domestic peace did 



not seem threatened, none of these 
forces thought to use this power for 
any other purpose than to preserve 
order at its own conventions. But 
from the day when strapping big fel- 
lows of ambiguous intentions began to 
comb the streets in autos and trucks 
and to devote themselves to various 
alarming kinds of drills, those who 
thought themselves threatened by 
these developments reacted and re- 
flected. They took stock of themselves 
and found that on their side there were 
not only tongues and pens but also 
arms and fists; and quite naturally 
they thought of using them. 

On the day after the 6th of Febru- 
ary, 1934, (when street fighting in 
Paris was so violent that the Govern- 
ment itself seemed in danger), it was 
only necessary for the C. G. T., {Con- 
federation Generale de T'ravail Gen- 
eral Federation of Labor), and the 
local union of syndicates of the Seine 
to give the sign for a thousand masons 
and metal workers to place their 
physical strength at the disposal of 
the United Front leaders. 

In less than no time Socialist and 
Communist chiefs constituted them- 
selves bodyguards. But that is nothing 
compared to what has been done since, 
and what will be done tomorrow. The 
truth is that the organizations which 
form the Popular Front possess vast 
reservoirs of fighting forces and have 
only to dip into them to find both 
soldiers and officers. It is sufficient to 
enumerate these reservoirs to meas- 
ure their size. 

The Communist Party, which ini- 
tiated the Popular Front, appears to 
consist of only 50,000 workers, who 
carry a red card and are flanked by a 

million sympathizers or more. But in 
fact these 50,000 have not been as- 
sembled, after the fashion of the mem- 
bers of other parties, in vague local 
committees. They constitute small 
and coherent nuclei (cells and frac- 
tions) in many nerve centers of the 
country: the big factories, railroad 
junctions, central stations of the tele- 
graph system, arsenals, barracks, etc. 
Workers' syndicates, peasants' or- 
ganizations (The General Federation 
of Peasants and Workers), veterans' 
organizations, committees of intel- 
lectuals and workers, the Red Aid and 
many other associations are in their 

All this permits them to organize 
shock troops rapidly at the decisive 
points of the territory, where the 
workers' organizations have proved 
responsive to their recruiting: Seine, 
Seine-et-Oise, Pas-de-Calais, Nord, 
Alsace-Lorraine, Allier. Less coherent, 
less militant and less dynamic in 
general at any rate, the Socialists 
are at the same time more numerous: 
110,000 members, 2 million sympa- 
thizers. But where the Communists 
are strongest, the Socialists bring them 
a supplementary force which is far 
from negligible. Elsewhere, in Flan- 
ders, Haute-Garonne, I'lsere, and the 
Haute- Vienne, they serve to relieve 
them and are not indifferent to their 

To these two workers* parties the 
Radicals (150,000 members and nearly 
2 million voters), the League for 
the Rights of Man and the Freemasons 
bring the help of certain provinces 
where notables, petty bourgeois and 
'blue peasants' predominate. And all 
are ready to get down their auto- 
matics at the words: 'The Republic 
is in danger!' 




And then there is that colossus, so 
strange and so little known to its ad- 
versaries, the new, united General 
Federation of Labor. It is coming to 
number more than a million mem- 
bers. Half of the Government em- 
ployees, the employees of the P. T. T. 
(postoffice, telegraph, and telephone 
systems) and the pubHc service and 
municipal workers have decided to fol- 
low its watchword. Doubtless it does 
not command more than minorities in 
the metal, building and textile indus- 
tries. But these minorities are unusu- 
ally influential, well qualified and 
active. In case of a serious attempt 
against the Government, they would 
without too much trouble bring about 
stoppages and walkouts. In the rail- 
roads and railroad stations more than 
a third of the personnel belongs to it 
(150,000 out of a total of 400,000), 
and the rest would follow, willy-nilly, 
their lead. The situation with the taxi 
drivers is similar. 

Besides, people too often neglect 
the fact that the Communist regions, 
the Socialist federations and, above 
all, the local autonomous unions and 
federations of industry of the C. G. T. 
are perfectly capable thanks to their 
customs and their taste for taking the 
initiative of taking all useful steps 
on the spot in case of necessity, even if 
a coup d'etat in Paris should cut them 
off from their central organizations. 
Finally, let us not forget that, in 
France, of the 858 cities of 50,000 in- 
habitants or more, at least 450 are in 
the hands of Popular Front adminis- 
trations, and among these the most 
important, from the strategic point of 
view, are the cities of the Paris sub- 
urbs and the 'greater Paris' region, 
the great ports (Marseille, Nantes, 
Saint-Nazaire) and, in general, the big 

cities of the provinces. Now an im- 
portant city means trucks, autos, fire- 
men, police-forces, employees, alarm 
systems and the administrative au- 

From this last point of view it is 
not a negligible fact that a good part 
of the city general councils have Popu- 
lar Front majorities, are adopting 
resolutions against the Leagues and 
are ready, if the regular government 
in Paris is menaced, to organize effi- 
cient resistance in their departement 
and set themselves up there as the 
legal power. 


What has the Popular Front al- 
ready drawn from these reservoirs of 
forces and from these possibilities for 
auxiliary military action? In this re- 
spect many of its members, and not- 
ably many Socialists of the Left, re- 
proach it for a certain amount of 
negligence. According to these ad- 
vocates of action who disturb at one 
and the same time the heavy doctri- 
naires of their party and the Com- 
munists, who are informed in detail 
about the problems of armed insur- 
rection, it will be necessary from now 
on to set up opposite the shock troops 
of the Leagues similar organizations of 
the Left. It will be necessary to com- 
bat the ' Fascists ' by assimilating their 
strategy, their tactics and their dis- 
cipline. It will be necessary to practice 
their military gymnastics: muster- 
ings, expeditions, maneuvers, sudden 

In place of this theory, which they 
qualify as ' Put schist* and risky, and 
which, they figure, is most dangerous 
at the present moment because of the 
disappointments which it would hold 




in store for the militant souls, and the 
reactions which it would stir up in 
public opinion, the leaders of the 
Popular Front offer one which they 
call the 'self-defense of the masses.' It 
is the abc of revolutionary policy, 
they explain, not to mix up the coming 
attack against the bourgeois power 
with measures of protection against 
the Leagues. The violent conquest of 
the State demands the creation of 
specialized fighting groups. That is for 
later. The resistance to the Croix de 
Feu demands the application of wholly 
different proceedings. For this purpose 
it can only be a question, at the pres- 
ent moment, of giving the alarm and 
of organizing the masses of the peo- 
ple whenever it is necessary to mobi- 
lize them against a Fascist maneuver 
or attempt. 

Let the 'bruisers* of the cells and 
the young Communists specially 
grouped for this purpose; let the young 
guards and the T. P. P. S. {toujours 
prets pour service always ready for 
service) of the Socialist Party, its 
'availables' ; let the trusted men 
in the C. G. T.; let the volunteers of 
all the organizations which belong to 
the Popular Front be ready to fulfil 
their role of alarmgivers, sentries, or- 
ganizers and liaison officers bravo! 
But let the good Red god prevent 
them from playing the role of soldiers 
of society. It is not by borrowing from 
Fascism the techniques which are 
bound up in its nature, its ideologies 
and its recruiting that the laboring 
and democratic forces will conquer it. 
It is rather on the plane of general 
policy, by the conquest of the masses 
and the middle classes, that this will 
be achieved. For the rest it is indis- 
pensable to stick to a strictly defen- 
sive organization which cannot be 

distinguished from the collective op- 
position of the people themselves. 

Such is the present military doc- 
trine of the Popular Front. Now let us 
see what results it has produced in 
practice. We shall cite several ex- 
amples which testify to the variety of 
the forms which this general theory, 
inspired rather by political intelli- 
gence than by the famihar principles 
of general staffs, can take as the re- 
sult of reactions, circumstances and 
local developments. 

In the southwest, in Bayonne, the 
District Committee of the Popular 
Front has convoked, at the rate 
of two delegates per organization, 
a group of militants representing 
the Communist, the Socialist and the 
Radical Parties, the League for 
the Rights of Man, the C. G. T., the 
C. G. T. U., etc. These militants had 
brought to this reunion the list of the 
members of their various organiza- 
tions. On these lists they had checked 
the names of all the men who in their 
opinion would answer the call to arms 
in their locality or their quarter, if the 
Croix de Feu should get the notion of 
throwing itself into some sort of 

One night they proceeded to mobi- 
lize these future scouts, sentries, 
liaison agents and group commanders. 
In a few hours all, even those from the 
most distant villages, were warned 
and placed each at his post. 

In the Aube they used another 
method successfully. A committee sim- 
ilar to that in Bayonne launched an 
appeal that an association of 'vol- 
unteers of liberty' be set up in the 
departement ready to guarantee every 
defensive mission or task if the need 
should arise, and determined to reply 
at any moment to the summons 




which would be sent them for this 
purpose. In a very short time, 1,500 
citizens were enrolled. 

At Lille, where the section of the 
S.F.I.O. is by far the strongest organ- 
ization of all those which belong to the 
Popular Front, and where the Socialists 
have a firm hold on the city hall, the 
forces of a counter-attack have been 
grouped around the municipal govern- 
ment and use its technical resources. 
An alarm drill, in which a company of 
scouts and liaison agents was put into 
action, made it possible to prove that 
the city, with all of its citizens, could 
be mobilized in two hours. 


It is a simple matter to estimate the 
auxiliary military power which the 
Popular Front will be able to com- 
mand. The regional political organiza- 
tions on which it relies include more 
than 50,000 militant members and are 
the masters of more than a hundred 
communities. Furthermore, the 100,- 
000 members of both the independent 
and the confederated unions of the 
Paris region are ready to support their 
action. There are, then, at their lowest 
figure, 200,000 men, several hundred 
trucks, and several thousand automo- 
biles and taxis ready to lend their aid 
tomorrow in arousing the people and 
transporting them if the members of 
the Leagues should appear in the 
roads leading to Paris, or if they 
should attack, even if only half in 
earnest, a point in the city's outskirts. 

This last possibility is worthy of at- 
tention. One of the reasons for the suc- 
cess of the Fascist squads in Italy was 
that they attacked only the local op- 
position groups. In Italy the 'Reds* 
never learned how to shift their party 

members from one community to an- 
other and they always fought each 
part of their struggle separately. Here 
in France we are witnessing the begin- 
ning of concerted action on a vast and 
decisive sector. Furthermore, this de- 
fensive action is linked up with the 
urban, economic and social considera- 
tions. There again the political in- 
telligence of the Popular Front is dis- 

As for the methods of giving the 
alarm, one must not forget that the 
cities are provided, thanks to the 
regulations concerning air defense, 
with sirens, special bombs and other 
noise-machines. In the peripheral dis- 
tricts of Paris, and in the communities 
where the Popular Front does not hold 
the administrative posts, its local 
units are already attempting to make 
up for this. In the twentieth arron- 
dissement the committee of the Popular 
Front, in alliance with the adjacent 
cities of the outskirts, has made provi- 
sion for the use of drums, bugles and 
bombs to rouse the workers if the need 
arises. The militant members, who at 
the first explosions, rolls of the drums 
and ringing of the bells would know 
what to make of it, would invite all the 
tenants in their building to go down to 
the street. 

If the application of the defense sys- 
tem of the Popular Front were only 
pressed forward rapidly enough, the 
Croix de Feu and the members of the 
Leagues, if they should go over to the 
oflFensive, would run the great risk of 
finding themselves in the perilous sit- 
uation of an army of occupation sur- 
rounded by a hostile and aroused 
population. It is this fact that the re- 
cent Communist suggestion to set up 
a militia for the defense of the Re- 
public is calculated to further. Here 




there is something which seems to 
make the theoretical discussion about 
the 'self-defense of the masses' and 
'specialized self-defense' rather vain, 
since the Left and the extreme Left 
seem to be well on the road to acquir- 
ing those forms of auxiliary military- 
activity which suit their practical 
potentialities. Do not many experi- 
ences like those at Villepinte and in 
the Pas-de-Calais show that at the 
first signal workers, small bourgeois 
and peasants will hurry on foot, on 
bicycles and in autos, surround the 
enemy, block off his route and over- 
whelm him with their numbers? Be- 
sides this, the general strike will iso- 
late the * Fascists ' and would paralyze 
them rapidly even if they should suc- 
ceed in seizing power and occupying 
for a short time certain vital points in 
Paris and the provinces. 

Yet, to say nothing of the big ob- 
jection, that it all depends on the at- 
titude of the Government, the police 
and the army, certain members of the 
Popular Front still criticize these de- 
fensive ideas of their leaders. They 
claim that shock troops, well equipped 
and well commanded, can always 
sweep up a larger mass which meets 
them in a tumultuous throng in spite 
of small groups of fighters in their 

These critics recall also that the 
general strike, if it tends to paralyze 
an enemy, for the moment victorious, 
runs the risk of paralyzing even more 
the attack that must be made on that 
enemy. From the day when the rail- 
roads come to a halt, the workers are 
deprived of means of transportation, 
while the 'Fascists* own many more 
trucks than they. In short, they are 
concerned about the fact that at a 
time of civil war the Popular Front 

would lack at the same time a national 
center of impetus and military com- 
mand, an information and liaison 
service, and real armed forces. This is 
in a more ample form the old objec- 
tion popping up again. But here again, 
admitting that not enough has been 
foreseen in the sequence of ideas, the 
reply which is given leads us back to 
political considerations. 

Wherever Fascism has seized power 
its success has been due to the indif- 
ference of Left Governments and to 
splits in the ranks of the workers. It is 
thanks to the circumstance that the 
middle classes, the peasants, the in- 
dustrialists, a large part of the moder- 
ate political personnel, the pohce and 
the army have aided or tolerated it. 
In France the present situation is 
wholly different. The occupation of 
several Ministries in the capital, and 
of certain nerve centers in the country, 
would not be sufficient to enable a 
force which is, after all, only an 
auxiliary militia, to govern against the 
will of more than two-thirds of the 
country. Even if they were over- 
thrown in Paris, the suburbs and in 
several cities of the provinces, the de- 
fense forces of the Popular Front 
would still be enormous. 

One can imagine what it would 
represent by recalling the programs 
adopted shortly after the events of 
February 6, 1934, by the general 
councils of several departements. These 
programs provided, in case the parlia- 
mentary regime were imperiled, some 
very precise counter-strokes. Seizing 
legal power constitutionally, each 
general council would form, under its 
aegis, a committee to coordinate all 



the forces hostile to a coup d'etat. This 
committee would requisition all the 
means of transportation of the departe- 
ment and would take the practical 
measures necessary to occupy the 
strategic points of the region: railway 
stations, junctions and the central 
offices of the telegraph system. They 
would place Paris and the cities which 
had fallen under the hands of the 
'Fascists' under an economic block- 
ade. Furthermore, by virtue of its 
powers, a general council would take 
over the command of the troops, the 
gendarmery and the police under its 
jurisdiction and would issue to them 
all the orders needed to put down the 
rebellion. In view of this objective the 
general councils which would be in a 
position to do it ought to coordinate 
their actions. 

When we consider that the commit- 
tees of the Popular Front are increas- 
ing in number and will soon be found 
in all the departementSy and that wher- 
ever they function, steps of the sort 
that we have enumerated are taken, 
one cannot underestimate the defen- 
sive power that they represent. This 
defensive power seems singularly in- 
creased when one realizes the moral 
support which the active sympathy of 
the inhabitants of many of the regions 

can render it, and the technical sup- 
port which it would encounter in cir- 
cles as different as the workers' syn- 
dicates, the unions of government 
employees, the city administrations 
and the general councils. In many cities 
the labor exchange, the railway sta- 
tions, the post offices, the mayor's of- 
fice, the under-prefecture, the prefec- 
ture and perhaps the local gendarmery 
and the fire department would coop- 
erate against a coup d'etat from the 

In Berlin, in March, 1920, General 
von Liitwitz, who had driven out the 
Ebert Government without difficulty, 
was, like his Chief, Mr. Kapp, obliged 
to give way quickly before the re- 
sistance of the provinces and under 
the pressure of a general strike which 
united in a single movement prole- 
tarians from the factories, transpor- 
tation employees and Government 
functionaries of all ranks. These ad- 
versaries did not possess, however, an 
organization and a will to fight com- 
parable to those which exist with us in 
the camp of the anti-Fascists. 

Tomorrow everything may change, 
but today the ratio of forces, even the 
ratio of auxiliary militia, is not as 
favorable to the leagues as many peo- 
ple think. 

The question of the manufacture of arms by the State or by pri- 
vate firms has been obscured by a certain amount of prejudice. . . . 
The prejudice is the expression of an honorable but perhaps mistaken 
ideal respecting the sanctity of life and the iniquity of war. 

Sir Herbert Lawrence, chairman of Vickers and 
Vickers-Armstrong, as reported in the I'imes, London 

Here is an Englishman's summary of the 
situation in Germany, and an account 
of life in a Nazi concentration camp. 

Three Years 

Two Views of 
Hitler Germany 

I. The Third Reich Today 
By A Special Correspondent 

From the Manchester Guardian^ Manchester Liberal Daily 


.HE National Socialist Revolution 
is a process of some complexity. 
As its name indicates, it professes a 
national and a Socialistic revolution 
its Socialism cannot be dismissed alto- 
gether as mere demagogy meant to 
hoodwink the * workers.' But it has 
a third element it professes to be 
anti-capitalist (Socialism and anti- 
capitalism are not quite the same 
thing). The Nationalism of the revo- 
lution is indubitably real its Social- 
ism and its anti-capitahsm are tend- 
encies rather than immediate, tangible 

The principal effort of the revolu- 
tion has been, and still is, national: 
namely, to impose a homogeneous 
national idea upon the whole of the 
German people and to make that 
people powerful. Everything else is 
subordinated to this end. German 

rearmament in the air will probably 
be complete in about a year, on land 
in perhaps two years and on the sea 
in an indefinite number of years. 
In two or three years' time Germany 
ought to be strong enough to make 
her weight felt in Europe and begin 
attempting her self-set task of achiev- 
ing the 'Greater Germany' which 
could include the Austrians, the Bo- 
hemians, the Danzigers, the Memel- 
landers, and others of German 'race* 
who live just beyond the present 
German frontiers. 

The private capitalist has a very 
circumscribed existence in Germany. 
But he is not unhappy. He is able to 
make profits and he is in favor of 
rearmament because it gives special 
opportunities for making big profits. 
But he dare not, with one exception, 
defend the ' capitalist system ' openly. 




The exception is Dr. Schacht he even 
has the courage to stand up to Hitler. 
Hitler himself is no economist; in fact 
he rather despises economics. Ger- 
many is as full of wild economic dream- 
ers as any other country, only as some 
of them ride on waves of strong 
revolutionary mass-emotion, there is 
always a chance that Hitler might 
support them. Dr. Schacht's function 
is to defend the German financial 
system against revolutionary experi- 
ments. He knows that Germany is in 
a state of acute financial crisis and 
that any further disorganization of 
her finances may be disastrous and 
lead to inflation (among other things). 
Hitler, like so many Germans who 
remember the year 1923, lives in dread 
of inflation, and it is largely on this 
dread that Dr. Schacht's power is 

But he is rather isolated. Not only 
is there a strong demand for economic 
experiments that would be costly in 
themselves and even more costly in 
their consequences the National So- 
cialists want far more money for 
rearmament and propaganda than 
Germany can afford. To be attacked 
in the German press is a serious mat- 
ter, for that press has no independence 
but represents the forces that rule 
the country. Of late Dr. Schacht has 
been frequently attacked as a 'cap- 
italist,' which, in Germany, is as 
much a term of abuse as in Russia 
(although in Germany there is an 
alliance an uneasy one, no doubt, 
but nevertheless an alliance between 
'big business' and the dictatorship, 
whereas in Russia 'big business' in 
the German or Western European 
sense does not exist). 

Hitler has tended to side with Dr. 
Schacht's opponents while still keep- 

ing him in office for practical reasons. 
Dr. Schacht's position is said to be 
shaky, but perhaps he is more power- 
ful than is allowed to appear on the 

Amid the immense impoverishment 
of the individual in Germany (chiefly 
as a result of the expenditure on 
rearmament and the extreme form of 
protection known as 'autarchy* or 
'self-sufficiency') the German work- 
ing class has suffered severely, and 
the real wages of unskilled labor have 
dropped more heavily than those of 

But real salaries have also dropped. 
And never has the German middle 
class been taxed as heavily as it is 
now. There is nothing in Western 
Europe at all comparable with the 
transfer of wealth from the pockets 
of the German middle class into the 
national Treasury. And whereas under 
the Republic there was a great deal of 
tax evasion, taxes are now enforced 
by measures so drastic that evasion 
has become very perilous. 


National Socialism is, above all, 
egalitarian. The revolution of 191 8 
brought the monarchy to an end and 
deprived the aristocracy of nearly all 
its power and influence, and so 
brought the centralized classless State 
one step nearer (German 'particular- 
ism* was always associated with local 
dynastic interests and loyalties). The 
National Socialist Revolution is bring- 
ing it nearer still: class distinctions 
count for less in Germany now than 
they did three years ago, and the 
limited independence that was still 
enjoyed by the Federal States has been 
reduced to almost nothing. 




Although the German working class 
has suffered more than any other un- 
der National Socialism, it is by no 
means undivided in its hostility to the 
dictatorship. A good deal of successful 
demagogy is still practised. The in- 
dustrial workman is consoled for re- 
ductions in his pay by a present of a 
cigar, a sausage, a glass of beer at 
Christmas or an excursion in the 
summer. A tone of easy familiarity 
and comradeship between employers 
and employed has been introduced into 
the factories. The hypnotic influence 
of skilfully attuned propaganda (in 
which the German has learnt much 
from the Russians) continues to oper- 
ate. Displays, parades, ceremonies 
bring color into lives of drab monot- 
ony (it is surprising what color com- 
bined with boastful nationalism can 

But behind all this stagecraft there 
is a reality, although until now it has 
remained rather embryonic. The em- 
ployer who has been or is believed 
to have been unfair to his men may 
undergo rough treatment at the hands 
of the Brownshirts. Unemployment is 
again on the increase and dismissals 
are numerous in Germany, but for 
employers to dismiss a workman is 
perhaps more difficult now than it was 
under the Republic. Any workman 
suspected of political heresy can, of 
course, be dismissed at once without 
the possibility of redress, but, apart 
from this, a firm will have to be very 
near total ruin and will have to prove 
absolute inability to carry on before it 
will dare to dismiss workmen. Exact 
comparisons are difficult, because of 
the absence of reliable figures (sta- 
tistical unreliabiHty is common to 
all dictatorships), but many German 
workmen who are hostile to National 

Socialism say that the old trade unions 
were less successful in averting whole- 
sale dismissals than is the dictator- 
ship, with its legal and extra-legal 
methods of pressure and palliation. 

Many workmen will admit that a 
great deal of immediate (though per- 
haps not ultimate) unemployment has 
been averted at the expense of em- 
ployers, shareholders, and taxpayers 
in so far as private firms have been 
saved from collapse by the interven- 
tion of the State and for the express 
purpose of averting unemployment. 

Many employers wish the trade 
unions were back again. The National 
Socialist 'Labor Front' is no sub- 
stitute it is, in fact, an imposture in 
so far as it is an instrument not for 
defending the interests of the work- 
men but for demagogy, espionage, and 
intimidation. That the trade unions 
will come back in their old form is 
hardly conceivable, but that they were 
useful is being widely recognized even 
by National Socialists. Old trade un- 
ion officials are often employed as 
advisers in National Socialist organiza- 
tions that are concerned with labor 
problems. They are, because of their 
integrity and technical knowledge, 
earning considerable respect. It is 
possible that the 'Labor Front' will 
be reformed by taking over certain 
non-political but useful elements that 
went to the making of the old trade 
unions. That the old Labor parties 
the Social Democratic and the Com- 
munist should reappear seems quite 
out of the question. 


One of the hopes based on National 
SociaHsm by the older generation of 
Germans was not merely that it would 




restore German military power, which 
it is doing with great speed, but that 
it would also reestablish the old 
military caste. It is true that many 
former officers and N.C.O.'s are again 
serving and again have authority over 
other men, but a new generation has 
been growing up since 191 8, and there 
is nothing that resembles a new or 
renewed military caste. The egalita- 
rian tendency of National SociaHsm 
is pervading the army. The younger 
officers and N.C.O.'s live in much 
the same world as the men this alone 
makes the new army different from 
the old. 

The new army is unpolitical but is 
being carefully integrated in the 
National Socialist State. The chances 
are that the fusion between the tradi- 
tional military spirit, which was pre- 
served by the Reichswehr throughout 
the life of the Weimar Republic, and 
the National Socialist idea will be 
carried out successfully. 

Conscription is not at all unpopular 
in Germany, and there can be no 
doubt of the keenness of the recruits 
once they are in uniform. The ma- 
neuvers held last year in the region 
round Luneburg revealed an almost 
fanatical spirit of military devotion 
and technical keenness amongst both 
officers and men; these maneuvers 
were of much greater interest and 
significance than those that were held 
under the eyes of foreign observers in 
Silesia at about the same time. The 
new German army is what the old 
was not a ' VolksheeVy a * people's 
army.' It is, in fact, the 'nation in 

In agriculture the National Socialist 
State has carried out a whole series 
of revolutionary reforms. At first 
sight these reforms seem to be any- 

thing but socialistic, for their tendency 
is to strengthen individual farming, to 
favor the rural at the expense of the 
urban population, to encourage own- 
ership and discourage tenancy. But 
these reforms are also another instance 
of national planning, and German 
agriculture as a whole is acquiring the 
status of a single, controlled national 
industry. There is nothing like the 
English boards of producers, but a 
rigorous control by the State of pro- 
duction, marketing and prices, that 
amounts to a socialization of the 
home-grown food supply. 

These agrarian reforms are 'anti- 
capitalist' in so far as the influence 
of the banks has been curtailed. Farm- 
ers have been let off a large part of 
their indebtedness at the expense of 
the urban population and of the con- 
sumers in general here, more than 
anywhere else, has the National So- 
cialist bias against Zinsknechtschaft 
been shown. Zinsknechtschaft is a word 
difficult to translate, but it means, 
roughly, the dependence of the small 
borrower on money-lenders and money- 
lending institutions. Whether the 
German farmer is any better off under 
Hitler than he was under the Republic 
is, in spite of the many favors he has 
received, extremely doubtful, for he, 
too, is involved in the general im- 
poverishment which the dictatorship 
has brought about in Germany. Ger- 
man foreign trade is not in theory but 
in fact a Government monopoly, and 
importers have to obtain monthly 
licences which allow them to import 
specified amounts in accordance with 
'national needs.' 

Like the other two modern revolu- 
tions, the Bolshevist and the Fascist, 
the National Socialist Revolution, 
which has much in common with 




both, aims at the conquest not merely 
of the present but of the future and is 
resolved to secure the unquestioning 
allegiance of the younger generation. 
This is the essential purpose of the 
'Hitler Youth,' which has many 
striking resemblances with the Russian 
'Comsomols' and the Italian 'Balilla' 
and 'Avanguardia.' 

The Hitler Youth has a member- 
ship of about 6,000,000 boys and girls. 
Nowhere is the egalitarian character 
of National Socialism more marked 
than amongst these young people who 
are being trained in conscious an- 
tagonism to the old order. They 
are anti-capitalist, sometimes with a 
marked Communist tendency, and 
anti-religious they have something 
in common with the Russian 'anti- 
God' movement; they aredeeplyhos- 
tile to all class distinctions, they are 
contemptuous of royalty, they are 
rebellious under parental discipline 
the German family is menaced with 
disruption and they are fervently 
militaristic and patriotic and, of 
course, anti-Semitic. 

Those of their members who are 
destitute or unemployed receive a good 
deal of help. They get special facili- 
ties which are gradually being organ- 
ized on a national scale for free 
training and apprenticeship, and a 
certain pressure is brought to bear on 
employers to keep or make jobs free 
for the poorer members of the Hitler 


There has always been a good deal 
of Communist feeling in Germany, 
and it has expressed itself in paradox- 
ical and romantic forms. Most of it 
has been absorbed by National Social- 
ism. The German Communist party 

not only helped to promote National 
Socialism negatively by its unremit- 
ting attacks on the Weimar Republic 
but also positively by preparing the 
minds of the poorer, more primitive 
and, especially, younger workmen for 
the National Socialist idea it is no ac- 
cident that those districts of Germany 
which were most strongly Communist 
once are now most strongly National 

The price paid for rearmament, 
propaganda, planning and revolution- 
ary reforms, not to speak of corrup- 
tion, mismanagement and nepotism 
is not expressed in terms of widespread 
poverty alone. It is also expressed 
in the sacrifice of much of what is 
usually called civilization. Liberty 
has ceased to exist in Germany. 
The persecution of the Jews grows 
steadily worse, and the standards of 
justice, at one time as high as any 
in Europe, are now the lowest. Rus- 
sian justice is probably worse even 
than German in its treatment of 
political offenders, but it is far su- 
perior to German justice in its treat- 
ment of the ordinary non-poHtical 

The elite of German skilled work- 
men are men of intelligence and hu- 
manity, and to them the National 
Socialist dictatorship is an object of 
deepest hatred and contempt. The 
National Socialist leaders, except Hit- 
ler and even he is not as immune 
from criticism as he was, are re- 
garded with widespread loathing, and 
not merely amongst the working class. 
There is in Germany today a vast 
multitude belonging to all classes 
that has only one wish namely, to 
get rid of the National Socialists. 
There is a French epigram that is 
often quoted with approval in Ger- 




many nowadays namely, that the 
National Socialist revolution is 'la 
victoire des Boches sur les Allemands.' 
One of the most striking phenomena in 
Germany today is the number of 
Germans who feel ashamed of their 
country. Again and again one hears 
intelligent and objective Germans, and 
not emigres only, say that it, the 
regime, cannot last, for the misman- 
agement is too great, the rottenness 
beyond repair. 

But the fact remains that a new 
social and political, though perhaps 
not economic, order is being created in 
Germany and that National Socialism 
is not meeting with effective opposi- 
tion anywhere. Discontent and disil- 

lusionment are so widespread that it 
is sometimes difficult to discover a 
National Socialist amongst the older 
generation. But fear of chaos as an 
alternative to National Socialism a 
fear that may be quite unjustified; fear 
of dividing, and therefore weakening, 
Germany at a time when she is at 
last recovering her place amongst the 
Great Powers; fear of arrest, torture, 
death, prison, concentration camp, 
unemployment and destitution deter 
all but an insignificant minority from 
active 'opposition.' Discontent and 
disillusionment remain passive and 
negative so far, at least, all that is 
dynamic and positive in Germany has 
followed the sign of the Swastika. 

II. German Concentration Camps 

By Heinz Pol 

Translated from the Neue ff^eltiubne, Prague Gcrman-Emigr^ Weekly 


.HE German Emigrant Aid Asso- 
ciation in Prague has questioned 
refugees who have only recently left 
Germany on their experiences in Ger- 
man concentration camps. The avail- 
able statements are so ghastly that it 
is almost impossible to repeat them. 
They prove that even after three years 
of Nazi Government torture is still 
being employed. All statements about 
'individual excesses, long since reme- 
died,' are lies: nothing has changed. 
Twenty-one-year-old Helmuth Kade- 
man, who last November succeeded 
in escaping to Prague, tells the follow- 
ing story: 

'In March, 1933, we came to the 
concentration camp called Burg Hohen- 
stein, in Saxony. As soon as we entered 
the reception room we were tor- 
tured. For this purpose the com- 

mander of the camp, Jahningen, and 
two storm-troopers, brothers by the 
name of Meier from Dresden, used a 
dog-whip to the end of which a lead 
pellet was attached. After I had been 
beaten into unconsciousness, I was 
taken into the courtyard and water 
was poured over me. Then my hair 
was cut off with a pair of hedge- 
clippers and a knife. I was forced to 
count the hairs and arrange them in 
bundles of thirteen each. This took all 

'The next morning we were driven 
to work, and all day long we were 
forced to push wheelbarrows, filled 
with stones, to the shipping camp. We 
had to do this on the double-quick. 
There was no lunch the first three 
days. During one of the next nights we 
were taken to a hearing. To force us to 




testify, our lips were burnt with red- 
hot wire, the soles of our feet were 
slashed, and pepper and salt were put 
into the wounds. Then I was laid into 
a sort of wooden coffin in which I was 
unable to move. In the cover over my 
head was a hole through which, at 
regular intervals, water dripped on my 
forehead. Some people who went 
through this procedure became vio- 

*A few days later I was examined 
again, this time by Sturmjuhrer Fried- 
rich, of Pirna. During this procedure 
a storm-trooper thrust the butt of his 
rifle into my spine so that I fell. To 
force me to get up, they trampled 
upon me, and one of my kidneys was 

*I then was put in a hospital, where 
they shackled my feet in bed, although 
I was in a plaster cast. After nine 
months in the hospital I was re- 
turned to the concentration camp, 
only to be immediately tortured 
again. New methods had been in- 
vented in the meantime. Kidneys 
were no longer injured by trampling: 
beatings now were administered with 
sandbags, which had the same effects 
but left no visible marks. 

'On April 30, 1934, some prisoners 
had escaped from the camp. Punitive 
drill was immediately ordered for all. 
It lasted from five o'clock in the eve- 
ning to five o'clock in the afternoon. 
I had to make genuflections. A bay- 
onet was stuck into the ground behind 
me. They pushed my shoulders down 
so that I had to sit on the steel. The 
injuries I suffered became infected, 
and I had to be taken to the hospital 
in Pirna. 

'At the drilling there was a man 
next to me whose name unfortunately 
I don't know. He was to give some 

important testimony. He was terribly 
tortured: his tongue was half torn 
out. He died and was buried on May 
10, at the old cemetery under the 


'On July 2, 1934, I was discharged 
from the hospital and allowed to go 
home. At home I had to register at the 
police station three times a day and 
was not allowed to go out from nine 
o'clock in the evening to seven o'clock 
in the morning. On January 2, 1935, 1 
was without any reason taken into 
protective custody. First I was taken 
to the city prison, and from there, in 
February, I was sent to the concen- 
tration camp at Sachsenburg. The 
chiefs of the camp were Standarten- 
JiXhrer Schmidt and Sturmbannfuhrer 
Rodel, both from Bavaria. On my ar- 
rival I was told that I would receive 
fifty lashes, as it was the second time 
I was in protective custody. I was put 
on a frame, with my head and legs 
hanging down, my hands and knees 
strapped. Ten storm-troopers hit me 
five times each with canes that had 
previously been soaked in water. Be- 
fore I got on this frame I was forced 
to sing the song '' Steigicb den Berg 
hinaufydas macht mir Freude." [When 
I climb the mountain, what joy it is 
for me !] Later on, as I could no longer 
walk, I was carried into the dun- 
geon. There we received only one pot 
of water a day and one slice of bread; 
dinner was given out but every fourth 
day. I was there for twenty-one days. 

'There were about one hundred 
Jews in the camp. They were used for 
the hardest work, especially breaking 
stone. Among the Jews was a lawyer 
by the name of Jacobi from Leipzig, 
and another lawyer named Troplowitz 



from Eisenach. One day a certain 
Sachs was committed. He was sup- 
posed to have been at one time the 
editor of the Bresdener Volkszeitung. 
Sachs was tortured to death within 
nine days after his admission. They 
trampled upon him until his inner 
organs had been destroyed. Naturally 
we were forbidden to speak about the 
case. Another prisoner, Paul Schraps, 
tried to cut his throat after he had 
been tortured for several days. The 
hospital physician was called and 
deigned to come four hours later. 
Schraps had died in the meantime. 

'In the summer and fall of 1935 the 
number of new prisoners increased. 
They had been arrested for the most 
trivial incidents. One, for instance, 
had exclaimed that formerly one could 
at least have margarine on one's 
bread, but today one ate it dry. He 
was especially maltreated and kept in 
the dungeon for weeks. 

'At the beginning of November, 
1935, there were in Sachsenburg 300 
criminals, 400 followers of the so-called 
"Bible-Scholars," and 627 political 
prisoners a total of 1,327 men. For 
these 1,327 prisoners, who slept in 
three-story bunks, there were four 
toilets and twenty-eight water-faucets. 
It took a full twenty-four hours for 
everyone to be served: the first one 
would start at five o'clock one morning 
and the last one the next morning. 
If somebody in the camp falls seri- 
ously ill, he dies, for the so-called 
camp physician does not raise a finger 
for the prisoners. There are practically 
no medical supplies at all in the prison 
zone, not even adhesive tape or band- 

ages. Until November the rooms and 
dormitories were not heated; it was 
said that the puddles outside had to 
freeze first. The food was bad and far 
too scarce: coffee and three pieces of 
bread and jam in the morning; for 
lunch a pot with something warm that 
always smelled sour and usually was 
almost inedible; in the evening bread 
with a piece of cheese and a slice of 
sausage twice a week, soup on the 
other evenings. 

'The camp of Sachsenburg is situ- 
ated in the valley at the river Zschop- 
pau. Years ago it was a spinning mill. 
It is surrounded by a barbed wire 
fence eight feet high which is charged 
during the night.' 

Another refugee who was in Dachau 
confirms that there, too, nothing has 
changed. He was beaten and had his 
head pushed into the sewer so often 
that he got an eye disease. Finally he 
was taken to the eye clinic to be ex- 
amined. It was found that his right 
eye was lost and the left one seriously 
affected. He was quickly dismissed. 
His eye was operated upon and then 
they wanted to arrest him again. He 
fled to Prague and is here under con- 
stant hospital care, as his disease is 
becoming daily worse. 

These latest victims of concentra- 
tion camps and penitentiaries, most of 
them living wrecks, have recorded 
everything they have suffered and 
seen, including the names of their tor- 
mentors and officials. Here, indeed, is 
enough material to justify sending an 
impartial, neutral investigating com- 
mittee to the German concentration 

One of young Italy's best known poets 
and novelists writes a short story. 



USED to go there with Grand- 
mother. The poor old lady would pufF 
and wheeze as she climbed the stairs, 
which were terribly steep. She used to 
rest on all three landings, and I would 
have the feeling that we were not 
making any progress at all. She used to 
keep one eye on me to see that I did 
not hang over the banister. It seemed 
as if we would never arrive at the 
fourth floor. In the middle of the 
journey, we would sit down on two 
little benches inserted for the purpose 
in the two corners of the landing. I 
used to love sitting down like that on 
the stairway without being tired. 

Signora Eulalia received guests in 
her dining room, which was gloomy 
and full of china closets crammed with 
silver plate, glass ware and crockery 
crowded together any old way and yet 
looking comfortable because it had all 
been there so long. On the walls there 
were decorative plates and pictures of 
women representing the Four Seasons. 

You would always find two people 
there one was Signora Septima, an 
old woman with a gray face Hned and 

By Aldo Palazzeschi 

Translated from the Nouvelles LittSraires 
Paris Literary Weekly 

chapped like a dried chestnut. She 
wore a long saffron-colored redingote 
and a little black bonnet decorated 
with artificial red flowers, badly made 
and all faded. She had a way of speak- 
ing which was very emphatic but at 
the same time full of Malapropisms : 
she would say muntions instead of 
munitions and vices virtues instead of 
vice versa. 

Signora Freund was a fifty-year-old 
German woman, blonde, obese, pink, 
greasy and white-eyed. She usually 
wore a hat with a black cotton veil 
which was stiff with dust and covered 
with tarnished spangles. Her dresses 
were dirty and worn out, and her 
shoes were like a soldier's. She spoke 
fluently, but she would say 'toctor' 
and 'paby.' 

Signora Eulalia was small, thin and 
nervous: she darted from the chair to 
the window like a fish leaping out of 
the water. You would take her for a 
faded young girl rather than a sixty- 
year-old woman. We would make our 
entrance and she would just barely 
greet my grandmother. As for me, she 




wouldn't honor me by so much as a 
look. If she happened to glance at me, 
her eyes seemed to ask: What is he 
doing here ? What is his business here ? 
Signora Freund never saw me, either. 
The most that I could hope for from 
this visit was a pinch of snuff, which 
Signora Septima would give me. 

Sometimes Signora Eulalia gave 
you the impression of a general con- 
ducting from downstairs a battle that 
was going on over the roofs. Some- 
times she made you feel as if a very 
delicate surgical operation were being 
performed in the next room, or they 
were waiting for a verdict, or holding 
a seance at any rate, something very 
serious and unusual. With her sud- 
den appearances, shadow-like, on the 
threshold, Nicoletta, the servant, used 
to succeed in charging the atmosphere 
still further. * Is everything all right ? ' 
the two women seemed to ask each 
other silently. 'Is everything all right?' 
But it was understood that nothing 
was all right. 

On an armchair a cat used to sleep 
placidly. This was Angel-Face. With 
his pretty black and white spots he 
looked like a little Dominican, but 
with Harlequin's face. The ladies 
would look at him as one would a 
child in a house where someone is 
suffering and dying. 

'Has he eaten his chicken-liver?' 

The servant would nod. 

'And his caviar?' 

'The caviar, too.' 

As soon as it struck seven, the mis- 
tress of the house would close the win- 
dow, and Signora Septima and Signora 
Freund, having collected all the ap- 
purtenances of their disorderly per- 
sonalities, would leave, obviously not 
of their own free will but like women 
who have a fixed schedule and have to 

proceed on it. My grandmother, on 
the contrary, used to settle herself 
more firmly in her chair as, with a 
superior air, she said good-bye to the 
two visitors, who would look at her 
askance as they went. Signora Eulalia 
didn't use to seem pleased to see her 
stay either: far from it. 

It was then that her son Amato, who 
was a cashier in the savings bank and 
a member of the Legion of Honor, 
used to come home. The other visitors 
would by that time be far away. But 
Grandmother used to wait serenely for 
him, and the two would exchange a 
cordial greeting, full of affection and 
understanding : 

'Signor Amato . . .' 

'How delightful to see you.* 

'Now, really, really . . .' 

'It's sweet of you to have come. 
Thank you so much. Come again 


Like many heroines of her time, 
Signora Eulalia had had her great 
tragic love. But not for a being of her 
own kind, as one would immediately 
think. Her frantic, unrestrained pas- 
sion was cats. During the lifetime of 
her husband, an honest well-to-do 
merchant, she had adopted a solitary 
tabby and had ended by having no 
fewer than six cats in the house. But 
after his death, when she- lived alone 
with her son and wanted to increase 
the number indefinitely, there were 
serious disagreements. Nothing less 
than summoning a policeman sufficed 
to put an end to them. After that it 
was understood that Signora Eulalia 
would have the right to keep only one 
male cat, and that her son would re- 
spect that right. Just one cat! It is 
easy to imagine what the effect of such 




a verdict would be upon a woman who 
was consumed by love for the whole 
species. It was like offering a toothpick 
to a starving man. 

When they had reached this point, 
the son had the idea that a pleasant 
journey might calm his mother and 
help her forget her loss. She fell in with 
his scheme, and they agreed on a trip 
to Rome and Naples. 

A deplorable idea! After two weeks 
of torture the miserable man returned 
home hvid with rage. In Rome Sig- 
nora Eulalia had plunged into the 
Forums and the baths, the substruc- 
tures of the Palatine and the Colos- 
seum. And among these glorious re- 
mains of the 'just and pious Empire,* 
as Dante calls it, she had been able to 
find another empire, a living one, a 
very living one indeed. With her 
'Minnie' and her 'Pompom,' her 
'Blackie,' and her 'Rufus,' her 'Hypo- 
crite,' and her 'Grimalkin,' it was 
impossible to keep track of her among 
the columns, the arches, capitals, 
pilasters, and broken steps. In the 
middle of the Cafe Aragno her son 
had been on the point of leaving her 
because her behavior on discovering a 
cat on the pie counter had brought a 
crowd around her. In front of the 
gates of St. Peter's an enormous 
striped tom-cat had really seemed to 
be waiting for her. She had begun to 
shout that that must be His Holi- 
ness's cat; and that she would love to 
have an audience with the Pope and 
talk to him about cats, which he must 
surely love. 

At Naples, where she was abetted 
by the natural amiability and exuber- 
ance of the population, things were 
even worse: from shop to shop, from 
courtyard to courtyard, in the con- 
cierges' booths . . . Nothing could 

save them: not the royal palaces, nor 
the basilicas, nor the beaches, nor 
Vesuvius itself. Nothing! 

When they were back home again, 
she would answer her son's indignant 
protests with: 

* But what else did you expect me to 

do there, idiot .^' 


As for Signora Septima, she was, as 
the occasion demanded, the echo, the 
chorus or the mourner; Signora Freund 
was the active friend and accomplice. 
She had spent a fortune on cats. Then 
she had married an old paralytic, and, 
having become rich after six years of 
self-denial, she had had as many as 
eighty cats. Now that she had re- 
lapsed into poverty, she used to spend 
her last pennies on them. The attic 
where she lived was a hotel and a hos- 
pital: cats would come there to sleep, 
to eat, to convalesce, and to lie-in. She 
and Signora Eulalia used to under- 
stand each other perfectly; you would 
see them laughing together as if they 
were drunk with joy; or consoling 
each other in their afflictions; or using 
signs, bizarre names and all kinds 
of infernal stratagems. They would 
stand in front of a window with 
their arms around each other's waist, 
awaiting feline visitors or the return 
of Angel-Face, whom they used to 
send on mysterious expeditions from 
time to time. Signora Septima would 
beam with a beatific smile. 

Nicoletta used to perform the du- 
ties of a traveling salesman. Every 
morning at seven o'clock she would 
set forth to the butcher's with a great 
basket on each arm. The butcher 
would have almost two hundred small 
packages ready for her, and with 
these she would start on her rounds: 




the cloisters of Santa Maria Novella, 
the Azeglio Square, the Castle of 
San Gallo and its gardens. Her mis- 
sion was to visit all the haunts of 
stray cats, of cats who had been 
abandoned, of cats in quest of adven- 
ture, of the fugitives, the rebels, of the 
lame, the halt, and the blind. At noon 
she would come back and report. 

Twice a week Signora Eulalia would 
accompany her. She would dress in 
haste, finishing on her way down- 
stairs, and the neighbors would see her 
setting out with Nicoletta, her bonnet, 
with its ragged feather, sitting crook- 
edly on her head, a veil full of holes 
drawn over her face and tied in a bow 
which dangled on the back of her 
neck, her skirt awry a real witch! 
Like Nicoletta, she would carry two 
market-baskets, one in each hand 
the first full of dainties, the other of 
medicines, gauze bandages, ointments, 
and pills. As soon as she appeared, the 
cats would come running to her from 
all sides, crying 'Miaow, miaow,' 
crowding round her impatiently, and 
clambering up her skirts. Children 
would come running, too; even grown- 
ups. At that time everybody used to 
know her; it was a pleasure. 'Come 
and see! It's the cat-mother! Come 
quick! Run! The cat-mother is here!' 

'She is the "cat-mother,"' her son, 
who was divided between hatred and 
affection, used to reflect sadly. 'She isn't 
my mother at all ! ' He was growing more 
and more misanthropic every day, and, 
except in his office, where he was 
liked and respected, he used to feel ill 
at ease everywhere. Everybody would 
avoid his house now that it had be- 
come the meeting-place and the haunt 
of lunatics, of silly, intriguing and un- 
scrupulous women. Grandmother was 
the only sane and disinterested person 

who still climbed the stairs to see him 
from time to time. She used to do that 
for him because she had known him as 
a child. Her visits used to touch him: 
when he greeted my grandmother he 
would almost feel like crying. He used 
to detest Signora Septima because she 
was an idiot, and the German because 
she was treacherous: it was by her 
connivance that the cats used to come 
and go in open defiance of the rules: 
in baskets, in boxes, in muflFs, from 
the roofs a regular troupe! 

He used to be well aware of what 
was going on, but he would pretend 
not to see or know anything. When he 
came across the usurpers, he would 
look at them angrily. As soon as he got 
home he would throw open the win- 
dows to blow out their smell. He used 
to detest Nicoletta, the blind agent of 
all this madness. He used to detest the 
cynical Angel-Face, who would feast 
before his very eyes on the breast of 
chicken and chicken-liver, choice bits 
of fish and caviar. 

Sometimes he used to dream: he 
would be happy; his mother, smartly 
dressed, would be sitting beside him 
in a well-kept house, full of respect- 
able people; or in some fashionable 
place: a theater, a concert hall, a cafe. 
Instead of that, what was his mother? 
Their money went for liver and lights, 
and the old woman prowled in the 
public gardens and the moats of the 
Fortress, the by-word of the whole 
city and the laughing stock of passers- 
by. If it had only been dogs! Then he 
might at least have shared her pas- 
sion. But cats oh, horrors! Those 
hateful animals, self-centered, cruel, 
egotistical, hideous, wicked, mon- 
strous ! 

Even when one's heart is devoured 
by a great flame, one still must die. 




alas ! There came a day when the Lord 
took to himself the cat-mother. Un- 
able to totter through the cloisters 
and the gardens, too weak even to 
watch the roofs, she lay for three days 
stretched out on her bed, mute, un- 
affected by any medicines, her eyes 
fixed on high, where she seemed to see 
incredibly beautiful visions: sleek, 
silky pelts on which one's hands 
linger in interminable soft caresses, 
captivating movements of harmonious 
grace, the inexpressible brilliance of 
red, yellow and green jewels against a 
dazzling blue sky. Her eyes seemed to 
close on this splendor, her drooping 
head to seal the dream on her pillow. 

Her son refused to allow Angel-Face 
to follow the funeral procession. All 
the sophisms of Signora Freund, all 
the cries and imprecations of Signora 
Septima, all the prayers and tears of 
Nicoletta were in vain. His office su- 
periors and colleagues were to come, 
five gentlemen of many medals. And 
several friends whom he had not seen 
for a long time proposed to attend the 
ceremony. He would tolerate his 
mother's friends but unwillingly. 

That evening it was not to human 
beings that the bells cried 'Weep!' 

The little coffin was standing in the 
middle of the illuminated church, 
hidden by flowers, surrounded by 
friends, relations and curious spec- 
tators. On each side the priests were 
intoning the words of their psalms. 
At the foot of the bier, the son, his 
head bowed, was forcing out a few 
tears, which seemed to him larger 
than his eyes. The dead woman lying 
there was his mother. A miserable 
woman, a poor wretch, yes! but still 
she was nobody else's mother but his. 
The prayers stopped. During a sol- 

emn, chilly silence, a priest left his 
place and went around the bier, swing- 
ing the holy water sprinkler before 
him. The son bowed his head; tears, 
refreshing tears, fell from his eyes. 


It was like a wail. The son started 
up. Other people looked around. It 
could only be an hallucination. A cat 
in church? Where? In his mother's 
coffin? Impossible. He had taken 
charge of laying her out himself. 
Surely it must be his imagination. But 
his eyes met those of Signora Freund, 
who was standing behind him and 
staring at his back with an evil, in- 
solent, provocative air. Then another 
'Miaow,' sharp and clear, was heard. 
Yes, it was she. She had a little cat 
who was crying in the pocket of her 
coat. She let him see it. 

A slight rustle passed through the 
church, and the white handkerchiefs 
that suddenly appeared were not all 
meant to dry tears. 

When he returned home, broken, 
desperate, crushed, to throw himself 
down on his bed, what was the first 
thing he saw? Angel-Face, installed in 
his chair and washing his face by 
rubbing it with his paws. He grabbed 
him, opened the window, and, raising 
his eyes heavenwards, dropped the cat 
like a bomb into the street. Then he 
looked out to see the mess. But the 
cat, twisting himself around, had 
fallen in the best possible way, with- 
out injuring himself in the slightest. 
That rubber animal, already on his 
feet, was strolling away without so 
much as one backward glance. Was he 
going to announce to all his kind that 
their mother was dead? 

Not at all! He was simply going 
calmly about his own affairs. 

Persons and Personages 

RuDYARD Kipling 
By Rebecca West 

From the iV^a; Statesman and Nation, London Independent Weekly of the Left 

IHE chief tragedy of Rudyard Kipling's life was summed up in two of 
the tributes published in the newspapers the morning after his death. 
Major General Dunsterville, the original of Stalky, boasted: 'In three- 
score years and ten no man's outlook on life could have changed less 
than that of Rudyard Kipling.' Sir Ian Hamilton wrote precisely and 
powerfully: 'As one who must surely be about Kipling's oldest friend, 
I express my deep sorrow. His death seems to me to place a full stop to 
the period when war was a romance and the expansion of the Empire a 
duty.' Those two sentences indicate the theme of that tremendous and 
futile drama in which a man, loving everything in life but reality, spent 
his days loathing intellectuals as soft and craven theorists, and yet him- 
self never had the courage to face a single fact that disproved the fairy- 
tales he had invented about the world in youth; and who, nevertheless, 
was so courageous in defending this uncourageous position that he had to 
be respected as one respects a fighting bull making its last stand. That 
drama explains why the public regards Rudyard Kipling as one of the 
most interesting men of our time. He stands among those Laocoon fig- 
ures who in pride and strength are treading the road to the highest 
honors, when they are assailed by passions which seem not to be a part 
of the victims' individualities but to have crawled out of the dark un- 
charted sea of our common humanity. Such men are judged not by their 
achievements in action or the arts but by the intensity of the conflict 
between them and their assailants. Such judgment had to recognize 
Rudyard Kipling as a memorable man. 

That, in part, explains his fame on the Continent. His warmest ad- 
mirers would have to admit that that is extravagantly inflated. A short 
time ago I was present when one of the greatest figures in European 
literature explained to our most subtle living novelist that it could only 
be political prejudice which prevented him from recognizing Soldiers 
Three and They as permanent glories of English literature, very near its 
apex. 'You think them very much better than anything Shaw and Wells 
have written?' 'Oh, much!' 'Better than anything Dickens and Thack- 
eray have written?' 'Of course! Much better than anything else in your 
modern English literature except Oscar Wilde and Lord Byron ! ' The 


just cataloguing of Rudyard Kipling with two other Laocoon figures 
suggests that an imperfect knowledge of a language may permit a reader 
to see the main pattern of a fabric, which a reader of great linguistic ac- 
complishment might lose because of absorption in fine verbal touches. 
But it does not explain the curious progress of his fame in this country. 
That followed a course hard to explain to a post-War generation. 

THOSE of us who were born in the first half of the nineties remember 
a childhood shadowed by certain historical facts: the gathering trouble in 
South Africa, the Home Rule question, the Dreyfus Case, the Diamond 
Jubilee, and the fame of Mr. Kipling. These were of not easily differ- 
entiated importance; and it must be remembered that Kipling was not 
thirty-five till the turn of the century. He enjoyed the celebrity and re- 
wards of Mr. Noel Coward and Mr. Priestley put together, at less than 
Mr. Noel Coward's present age, with something of the more than merely 
political, almost priestly, aureole of Mr. Baldwin. He had laid the foun- 
dation of this fame principally with his volumes of short stories. Plain 
Tales from the Hills, Soldiers Three and Life's Handicap, his novel, The 
Light That Failed, and his volumes of poetry. Barrack-room Ballads and 
The Seven Seas. 

IT WILL seem to anyone who now takes up these volumes for the first 
time, or can read them in a state of detachment, that their fame was not 
deserved. Those books are the work of a preternaturally clever boy in his 
early twenties, of odd and exciting but limited experience, and they are 
just as good as could be expected, and just as bad. Plain Tales from the 
Hills are just the stories a young writer of parts will write when he is 
mastering the bare elements of the story-teller's craft; when he is teaching 
himself to get down on paper the crude sequence of events, the mere me- 
chanical movements of people in and out of rooms and up and down 
stairs. Soldiers Three, for all they have stamped the imagination of a 
people, are anecdotes, told with too much gusto and too little invention. 
Life's Handicap are better stories, for in them Kipling has perfected the 
art of hooking a reader's attention as neatly as an accomplished salmon- 
fisher casting a fly. I cannot believe that a young officer and his Hindu 
mistress would converse so exclusively in the manner of conscientious 
members of the Chelsea Babies' Club as is represented in Without Benefit 
of Clergy, but I shall not forget that story till I die. As for The Light That 
Failed, it is a neat, bright, tightly painted canvas, but it falls far short of 
deserving to cause a sensation. Dick Heldar is a boy's idea of an artist 
and a man; Maisie is a boy's idea of a woman; Bessie Broke is a boy's 
idea of a drab; Torp is a boy's idea of an adventurer. The verse is natu- 
rally better. Poetic genius makes a qualitative demand on experience; 

[4o] THE LIVING AGE March 

fiction makes a quantitative test as well. And indeed all his life long Kip- 
ling was a better poet than he was a prose-writer, though an unequal one. 
In his verse he was a fusion of Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Adelaide Proctor, 
Alfred Noyes, George R. Sims {Gunga Bin is as bad as that), with a 
militarist A. P. Herbert, one of the grander Scottish hymnal-writers and 
a pure and perfect lyrist, who could distil a day of alien weather in a 
verse as bright and clear as a dewdrop. But it must be doubted whether 
an age that recited Gunga Din and The Absent-minded Beggar at the top 
of its voice was really swayed by admiration for that shy and delicate 
lyrist in its estimate of Kipling's genius. 

Yet there was nothing at all fortuitous about Kipling's success. It 
could not be called a fluke. To begin with, his work then and all through 
his life had the curious property of seeming better than it disclosed itself 
after a few years. Some of his work was gold; and the rest was faery gold. 
Moreover, it had rare qualities which made it superbly relevant to its 
time. The first two were the emphasis on color in his style, and the vast 
geographical scope of his subject matter, which made his work just the 
nourishment the English-speaking world required in the period sur- 
rounding the Jubilee and the Diamond Jubilee. I do not find that the 
post-War generation realizes what marvelous shows these were, or how 
they enfranchised the taste for gorgeousness in a population that wore 
dark clothes, partly from a morbid conception of decorum and partly be- 
cause cleaning was so expensive, and lived in drab and smoky times. 

OF THE Jubilee I cannot speak; but of the Diamond Jubilee I have 
enchanting memories of such feasts for the eye as I do not think I knew 
again until the Russian Ballet came to dip the textiles of Western Europe 
in bright dyes. London was full of dark men from the ends of the earth 
who wore glorious colors and carried strange weapons, and who were all 
fond of small children and smiled at them in the streets. I remember still 
with a pang of ecstasy the gleaming teeth of a tall bearded warrior wear- 
ing a high headdress, gold earrings and necklaces, a richly multi-colored 
uniform and embroidered soft leather boots. There were also- the Indian 
troops in Bushey Park, their officers exquisitely brown and still and 
coiffed with delicately bright turbans, the men washing their clothes at 
some stretch of water, small and precise and beautiful. They came from 
remote places and spoke unknown tongues. They belonged to an infinite 
number of varied races. They were amiable, they belonged to our Em- 
pire, we had helped them to become amiable by conquering them and 
civilizing them. It was an intoxicating thought; and it was mirrored in 
the work of Rudyard Kipling and nowhere else, for nobody could match 
his gift of reflecting visual impressions in his prose, and he alone among 
professional writers had traveled widely and had the trick of condensing 


his travels into evocative runes which are almost as much magic as 
poetry. Hence he could restore confidence to a population that had slowly 
lost touch with their traditional assurances throughout the nineteenth 
century and give them a new sense of religious destiny. Since they were 
subjects of the British Empire, they were members of a vast redemptory 

And, indeed, that belief produced some not at all poisonous fruits. 
One night, when I was some years older, my mother returned from an 
expedition to town, and with flashing eyes described how she had come 
on a vast crowd standing round a hotel and raising cheer after cheer. 
Presently there appeared at the lighted window the stiff head and beard 
of Botha, woodenly bowing acknowledgments. The crowd had gathered 
to cheer the South African Generals, come to London to settle the peace, 
not (as one of the post-War generation startled me by assuming the 
other day on hearing this anecdote) because they were pro-Boer, but be- 
cause they were full of the spirit oi parcere subjectis. Uglier things have 
happened in history. 

THE third quality which made Kipling the presiding genius of his 
time was his passion for machinery. He assured the slaves of a mecha- 
nized world that what they tended were civilizing forces; that the task of 
tending them was a discipline and high achievement and that the hum- 
blest who performed that task worthily could hold up his head among 
kings. Again, he brought a sense of religious destiny back into a dis- 
organized world. He was able, in fact, to render an immense service to 
his age, and it is no wonder that in his later years, when it became ap- 
parent that that age had passed forever, he refused to recognize the 
change, and raised a disgruntled pretense that nothing was happening 
save an outburst of misconduct on the part of the intellectuals and the 
lower classes. It is no wonder that he should want to do so, human nature 
being as frail as it is; but it is surprising that the writer of the masterpiece 
Kim should have found himself able to do so. 

It was partly the consequence of a real incapacity for handling gen- 
eral ideas and grasping the structure of the world in which he lived. He 
was full of contempt for Pagett, M.P., the radical English politician who 
came out to India for a few months and then laid down the law to ad- 
ministrators who had known the country for a lifetime. But Sir Edmund 
Gosse, that wavering convert to the conventional, who could never be 
trusted not to lapse into dangerous penetration and sincerity, once 
pointed out that whenever Kipling wrote about England or any place 
but India he was simply a Pagett M.P. turned inside out. This was 
partly due to his Indian childhood, but it must also be laid to the charge 
of the kind of education which England provides for its governing 

[42] THE LIVING AGE March 

classes. It is interesting to turn back to his very early travel book, From 
Sea to Sea, if only to see how carefully he hammered out that descriptive 
style which has had even more influence in France than here, since it is 
the foundation of the best in le grand reportage; but it is interesting also 
as an indication of just how well Stalky & Co. were taught. 

It begins with a chapter of jeers at a wretched young man from Man- 
chester on a trip through India, who had bought some silly sham an- 
tiques and failed to understand the working of some wells on the plains. 
But in the later chapters Kipling himself travels through the Western 
States, only fifty years after the forty-niners, with not the faintest ap- 
preciation of what the settlement of the country meant. He gets ofl^ the 
train at Salt Lake City and has no word of reverence for that miracle of 
statesmanship which set a noble city and a stable State on a trackless 
and waterless desert. Merely he complains that the Book of Mormon is 
illiterate, that the Tabernacle is not pretty and that polygamy is shock- 
ing. Could any young man from Manchester do worse? Surely the United 
Services College should have taught him better than that. 

BUT the same wonder regarding the value of our English system of 
education arises when we look round at Kipling's admirers among the 
rich and great. He was their literary fetish; they treated him as the clas- 
sic writer of our time; as an oracle of wisdom; as Shakespeare touched 
with grace and elevated to a kind of mezzanine rank just below the Arch- 
bishop of Canterbury. But he was nothing of the sort. He interpreted the 
mind of an age. He was a sweet singer to the last. He could bring home 
the colors and savors of many distant places. He liked the workmanship 
of many kinds of workers and could love them as long as they kept their 
noses to their work. He honored courage and steadfastness as they must 
be honored. But he was not a faultless writer. His style was marred by a 
recurrent liability to a kind of twofold vulgarity, a rolling over-emphasis 
on the more obviously picturesque elements of a situation, whether ma- 
terial or spiritual, and an immediate betrayal of the satisfaction felt in 
making that emphasis. It is not a vice that is peculiar to him perhaps 
the supreme example of it is Mr. Chesterton's Lepanto but he com- 
mitted it often and grossly. 

Furthermore, his fiction and his verse were tainted by a moral fault 
which one recognizes most painfully when one sees it copied in French 
books which are written under his influence, such as M. de St. Exupery's 
Vol de Nuit, with its strong, silent, self-gratulatory airmen, since the 
French are usually an honest people. He habitually claimed that any 
member of the governing classes who does his work adequately was to be 
regarded as a martyr who sacrificed himself for the sake of the people; 
whereas an administrator who fulfils his duties creditably does it for ex- 


actly the same reason that a musician gives a masterly performance on 
his fiddle or a house-painter gives a wall a good coat of varnish: because 
it is his job and he enjoys doing things well. 

But the worst of all was the mood of black exasperation in which Kip- 
ling thought and wrote during his later years. He had before him a peo- 
ple who had passed the test he had named in his youth the test of war; 
and they had passed it with a courage that transcended anything he can 
have expected as far as war transcended in awfulness anything he can 
have expected. Yet they had only to stretch out a hand towards bread or 
peace or power or any of the goods that none could grudge them in this 
hour when all their governors' plans had broken. down, for Kipling to 
break out in ravings against the greed and impudence of the age. Was 
this a tragedy to deplore or a pattern to copy? 

But perhaps the rich and great admired Kipling for retiring into rage 
and shutting his eyes against his times because they were obscurely con- 
scious of the dilemma that must have faced him had he left them open. 
Supposing that one has pledged one's imagination before the War to the 
ideal of a great Power which would ruthlessly spread its pattern of 
civilization over all conquerable lands so far as it could reach, without 
tenderness for its executives or the conquered peoples; which would 
count the slaves of the machines as the equal of kings, provided they 
performed their tasks with competence, and far superior to the intellectu- 
als who are infatuated with the notion of freedom; which asked of its 
children discipline and discipline and then discipline and stood proudly 
to meet the force of the world with force what power would claim one's 
allegiance after the War, every year more surely? It has often seemed 
fantastic that the author oi Mac Andrew' s Hymn should have feared and 
loathed the airplane. Perhaps he felt that, had he given his passion for 
machinery its head, that and the rest of his creed might have led him 
straight to Dnieprostroi. 

. . . Long Live the King 
By Philip Guedalla 

From the Spectator, London Conservative Weekly 

It is not easy for a young man to be King of England. 

Even if he is not quite so young as he appears to be, the fact is slow 
to penetrate; and nothing will prevent men of half his experience from 
viewing him with the indulgent eyes of age. True, their travels may not 
have taken them further than a few Continental health-resorts, and 
their conversation rarely moves beyond the groove of their profession. 

[44] THE LIVING AGE March 

whilst he is equally accustomed to ships at sea, railway-trains in Africa 
and airplanes above the Andes, and has listened in his time to almost 
every kind of specialist talking shop. But there is nothing to prevent his 
elders from feeling comfortably certain that they must know more 
about it all because they happen to be older. 

Yet if experience is to count for anything, it is not easy to say just 
how many years of average experience have been crowded into that 
short lifetime. Men of twice his age are lucky if they have seen half as 
much. The years slide past them, and they will reach the honorable end 
of their professional careers without touching life at more than a quarter 
of the points where he has made contact with it. His life has been a 
swift training in the elements of commerce, several professions, war and 
diplomacy, with illustrations on the spot from men who know their 
business well enough to be at the head of it. An education of that order 
is a fair substitute for graying hair. For it ages a man rapidly, and he 
can hardly help being a trifle older than his years. So possibly the King 
of England is not quite so young as he may seem to all his subjects. 

But it is not easy for a man of any age to be the King of England in 
1936. Even if England were all that he has to be king of, it would be 
anything but easy. For modern England is a bewildering affair, a shifting 
complex of politics, economics, public services and private enterprise, 
consisting in unequal parts of agriculture, trade returns, sport, unem- 
ployment, national defense and the West End of London; and a true 
king must make himself at home in all of them. The old simplicities have 
vanished. The happy days when a mild interest in good works and a 
moderate familiarity with the armed forces of the Crown sufficed for 
royalty are more than half a century away. It was so easy to be charming 
when life held little more than a few guards of honor to inspect and a 
few wards in hospitals to walk through. 

But modern royalty has far more than that to think of the heavy 
industries, afforestation, shipyards, the stricken coalfields, salesmanship, 
the grind of poverty, the good name of Britain in foreign countries, wel- 
fare work, the cost of living and a whole sea of problems that are more 
generally to be found on the agenda of board meetings than in the thin- 
ner air of courts and camps. (One sees King Edward somewhere in the 
picture in almost all of them.) Contemporary life has grown almost 
intolerably civilian; and even on its higher levels it cannot be conducted 
without a wider range of knowledge than is customary among field- 

Full recognition has been given to that fact in the range and diver- 
sity of the new King's training. For, admirably lacking in routine, it has 
effectually multiplied his contacts with almost every drab activity that 
goes to make up the common round of England. He has heard engineers 


talk shop, listened to experts planning assaults on foreign markets and 
watched the slow alleviation of maladjustments in the workers' lives. 
The higher salesmanship, group migration, and the mysterious processes 
by which frozen credits may be thawed have all passed before him; 
and few men have been vouchsafed a more commanding survey of the 
whole roaring, creaking, smoky rattletrap of affairs and industry which 
goes by the name of England. If it is the business of a modern king to 
hear and know about such things as that, there is not a more modern 
king in Europe. 

But, happily or not, England is not the only place of which he has 
to be king; and in the wider field he has rare advantages, since he has 
been a persevering traveler. If it is an advantage to have seen the world 
as very few have seen it, he enjoys it to the full. A sight (and he has had 
more than one) of North and South America, Africa, India and the 
Dominions is a generous education in quite a number of things that we 
are not customarily taught at home, and he has had the chance to learn 
them all. That is another means by which his years have been aug- 
mented in the same process which enabled him to serve his country 
overseas in foreign markets and the Dominions. 

What is the sum of it? A modern king with a far wider range of 
contacts than any of his subjects and a complete awareness of their real 
occupations and the problems which confront their country; a sharp 
questioner and a shrewd listener of wide experience; a busy mind that 
finds its own solutions and prefers to say the things that it has thought 
of for itself; a man of innumerable and diverse friendships; and the 
last man in England to desire to hear smooth things on serious affairs. 

Small wonder that, if there were no monarchy, he would be the un- 
crowned King of England. 

Big-Hearted Herriot 
By Odette Pannetier 

Translated from Candide, Paris Topical Weekly 

[ne following sketch of Mr. Edouard Herriot was published in France a 
few days before the Laval Cabinet^ in which he held the post of Minister 
of State ^ fell. We reproduce it here because it gives so vivid a picture of a 
man who^ though not at the moment participating in the Government^ 
has played and may again play a decisive role in French politics. ^The 

"LJE HAS a clumsy body that rocks from one foot to the other, a big 

head that looks as though it had been drawn by Sennep, hair as 

thick as an Alsacian forest, and haggard, moist eyes, eyes with the look 

[46] THE LIVING AGE March 

of a man who has a terrific toothache and whose dentist is away on 
a vacation. 

He loves, above all, to believe that he is good. He cultivates his 
soul as others cultivate lettuce or rhododendron. He belongs among the 
people who are deeply moved because they are going to give a beggar 
six sous and who believe that they have thus pulled him out of all his 

He is always speaking of his heart; he pats, flatters and caresses it. 
Instinctively his hand is posed upon it, as if to make sure that it is 
always there. And it is true there are in this heart some charming corners, 
corners that one imagines to be as blue and fresh as a bunch of forget- 
me-nots, as the gaze of a child fixed on a bird. 

There is something of the midinette in him and something of the 
conspirator. One is likely to see him stop to listen to street singers ten 
minutes after having betrayed his Premier. He hums, laughs at life, 
pushes his dirty little hat back onto his vast neck; he beats time with 
fingers that are stubby but sensitive to rhythm. He feels seraphic, and, 
at the end of the last song, he thinks: 'The pig, tomorrow he will be 
overthrown . . .' 

HE REPEATS to himself incessantly that he loves nature. And he is 
bent on proving it to himself. While the ministers go hunting at Ram- 
bouillet and have their pictures taken by Nathan Brothers Newsreel, 
Monsieur Herriot, who hates such slaughter, goes strolling in the woods. 
He discovers mushrooms which look like goblins, bends down painfully 
to pick one, then another, then, fatigued by such efl^ort, has his chaufl^eur 
pick the others. The frivolous diversity of the mushrooms and toadstools 
enchants and inspires him. Merely for the benefit of his chaufl^eur, who 
yawns and thinks of his girl friend, he juggles with a thousand para- 
doxes, a thousand comparisons, a thousand dazzling, poetic and pleasing 
images. He offers to a deaf public of trees, leaves, brambles and grass a 
lecture that might easily please an audience at the Academy. He gets 
back to Paris, his feet entangled in a hostile mass of earthy mushrooms. 
And, arriving, he tells the chauffeur: 'Here, take them; they will please 
your wife.* 

He reads a lot. He writes a lot. If, in the meantime, he does not save 
the RepubHc, he thinks of the Academy. His old friend Israel assures 
him that the green of the laurels is not becoming to his complexion. But 
that is a matter that would only bother a coquette. It worries Monsieur 
Herriot as little as a fly would an elephant. He thinks of his claims to 
immortality in little swallows, as one enjoys a sherbet or the memory 
of an hour of love. 

Alas! The 'Right' wing of the Academy utters shocked cries as 


soon as his name is mentioned, and the 'Left' wing wishes to dispose, 
before his turn comes, of a stock of somewhat dusty candidates that 
have to be chosen before they are completely nibbled away by moths. 

Then, in the absence of literature. Monsieur Herriot is busy with 
France and the Republic. That is, he is busy with himself. This post of 
Minister of State at which events have placed him does not fit his tem- 
perament. He suffocates at the Place Fontenay, where the telephone 
girls have to repeat his name three times when he is wanted on the 
'phone. He is a little bit in the position of a man who has saved three or 
four drowning persons and who is about to be compensated with the 
title of swimming master. He feels strongly that France, deprived of 
him, will approach the worst catastrophes. 

He loves the Quai d'Orsay. He loves it physically, from the door- 
keeper who resembles Albert Fratellini down to the irregular clock 
a funny clock, but gentle at heart which strikes one hundred and 
forty-two times without stopping. He is homesick for the fireside, the 
tapestries, the little washroom of the lodging house, from which the 
shabby stairway winds up to the apartments. Depriving him of am- 
bassadors is like depriving an addict of cocaine. 

Then he is very unhappy. Moreover, he cannot be anything but 
unhappy. He has an intense, morbid need of being loved. When he 
leaves his home, on the Quai d'Herbouville at Lyon, and he craves 
attention, a pathetic little boy with a face that photographs well will 
step up to him: 

*Is it really you, M'sieur Herriot?' 

Dear, opportune little boy! Monsieur Herriot seizes and hugs him, 
making guidiguidi under his chin; sees to it that the photographers are 
ready; and poses. 

For want of a little boy, he chooses a railway mechanic, a brick- 
layer, a woman coming out of a comfort station. 

It does not matter much to him to be hissed, as long as he appears 
on the screen. The essential thing is that people see him: his little hat, 
his martyr's eyes, and his wide open arms, always in search of a prole- 
tarian to embrace. 

He loves the people; that is, he is bent on pleasing the militant 
radicals. He always arrives a little late in the party or executive meetings 
so that all are present and can applaud him: 

' B'vo Herriot! Viv Herriot!' 

Then he nods his heavy head as if he had enough in carrying it. 
His fingers describe little pirouettes in the air. 

' Merciy mes amis, merci . . .' 

He is overwhelmed and thankful. The ovations are redoubled: 

'B'vo Herriot! Viv' Herriot!' 

[48] THE LIVING AGE March 

He turns to the crowd with the look of a crucified man who is not 
long for this world; he stretches out his arms to demand silence; then 
he speaks of the Republic. 

He is a sad figure, a great little fellow. He gives the impression of suf- 
fering from life. One single soul loves him truly, one single being lives 
only for him: Cesarine. She is the classic type of the old servant whom 
one sees only in the theatre. Cesarine washes and scrubs him every morn- 
ing in his bathtub. And moaning under her rough grasp, Herriot wants 
Cesarine's opinion that he is not going to fall: 

'What do you say, Cesarine? Mandel president of the Council with- 
out portfolio . . . Flandin Finance Minister . . . Me at the Quai 
d'Orsay, of course. . . . Hey? What did you say? I didn't hear you . . . 
My ears are full of soap. . . .* 

And Cesarine, without stopping her scrubbing, answers: 

'All this will be still more of a nuisance to Monsieur. . . .' 

He is a gourmand, without wanting to be one and without knowing 
it. Ingenuously, instinctively, like a baby that vigorously sucks its 
mother's breast. 

He always goes to the same restaurant and the headwaiters scold 

'Monsieur le President^ you aren't serious? You have eaten two 
dozen oysters already, a whole lobster . . . Really, to have a pepper 
steak now. . . ! Monsieur le President is still hungry ? Monsieur le Presi- 
dent WiW be ill!' 

*Go on, my friend, go on,' says Monsieur Herriot, as if the head 
waiter had just revealed his intention to fetch a bumper of hemlock. 

Then he calls for the cook, the scullery-boy, the waitress, and sol- 
emnly, though with much simplicity, gives them the accolade. 

He loves books physically. He touches and caresses them with a ten- 
der hand; he loves their bindings, their parchment, the fantastic little 
loop of the 5 on page 25. They are better than friends, better almost than 
his children. When he is with them even the best pipe is no more than a 
subordinate mistress. 

He is not a bad man. But there is some calamity in whatever he con- 
cerns himself with. He has only to want to serve some one to betray him 
immediately. He injures everyone he tries to help. Whenever he admires, 
he slanders. He must be a remote descendant of the Atridae. 

He is full of good intentions. When he wants to see the picture of a 
good man, he looks into the nearest mirror, for he knows well that he 
himself is a good and dignified man, a man who loves France, the Repub- 
lic and the laity. He pities those who doubt or reject him. Then he gives 
his heart a little pat, sends a look of resignation heavenwards, and 
dreams of the coming Ministerial combinations. 



Mr. Herriot Installs a Show Window 

Sennep in Candide, Paris 

The author of the best book on Proust 
reexamines that great figure of French 
literature in the light of new values. 

On Rereading 
Marcel Proust 

By L^ON Pierre-Quint 

Translated from Europe ^ Paris Literary Monthly 

1 HAVE NOT opened one of Proust's 
books for about nine or ten years. 
After publishing an important work 
on him, I felt that I was done with 
that particular subject. I admired the 
author as much as ever, but I was not 
interested in him any more. One loves 
a book as one loves a landscape or a 
human being. A certain amount of 
time spent with either one of them is 
sufficient to make the love you bear 
them to take flight; their mystery is 
dissipated. Then after a while you 
again wish to find the loved being, to 
visit the places you loved as a child, to 
compare your first impressions of a 
book with those of a second reading. I 
did not begin this task without appre- 
hension. From the first I felt im- 
pressed by the remoteness of the 
youth of today from a writer so un- 
interested in the social question as 
was Proust, and I wondered whether 
it is the new generation, with its over 
narrow conception of art, or Proust's 
work, that lacks universality. 

In the beginning of my book on 

Proust I traced his portrait, consider- 
ing above all the artist in him; his 
abnormal and irregular existence is 
explained by his sickness; his inability 
to act in practical life, his exaggerated 
politeness, his eccentricities are due to 
the natural complication of his mind 
and his exaggerated sensitiveness. As 
a result we have a sad Marcel Proust, 
a man of great generosity who little 
by little sacrificed all the pleasures of 
life to his art. I continued to believe 
that this portrait was true, but I 
realized that it is possible to delineate 
another one, perhaps equally true. 
Could not one interpret Proust's ex- 
cessive amiability as a kin'd of defense 
mechanism, as a way of escaping 
from himself; his prolix compliments 
not as a form of poetry, but rather as 
a sign of flattery? Certain phrases 
that are frequently repeated in his 
letters, like * Don't repeat what I have 
told you,' or 'Don't tell this to any- 
body,' his expression 'Silent as the 
grave,' which means 'to be quiet on 
this subject' are these not signs 



of hypocrisy? Could not certain of 
Proust's gestures, as, for example, his 
legendary tips, be explained, rather 
than by generosity, by the pathologi- 
cal side of his nature, by his habit of 
'buying' his inferiors, his need of 
dazzling and seducing them? 

It was above all from this point of 
view that I reread A la Recherche du 
temps perdu. I took it up not as I 
would take up any book from the 
library, with a preconceived sympathy 
which is in reading a book a sure 
promise of pleasure: rather, on the 
contrary, with a definite prejudice. I 
should like to say at once that even if 
I have a better understanding this 
time of certain qualities that the au- 
thor lacks, my hostile sentiments 
could not resist his extraordinary 
poetic powers and the profundity of 
his analyses. 


In describing French high society 
from 1890 to 1920, Proust could not 
pass in silence the most important 
political and social events of that 
epoch, the Dreyfus affair, for example, 
or the War. Generally, it is only as a 
novelist that he studies the repercus- 
sions of those two events on the in- 
dividual lives of his characters. But 
the War plays such an important part 
in Le "Temps retrouve that he was 
obliged to modify his neutral attitude. 
Nevertheless, the reader cannot help 
wondering whether Proust has not 
lacked courage and sincerity in speak- 
ing about the War. When the noble- 
man-officer Saint-Loup writes from 
the front that it is enough for the 
wounded soldiers to learn that the 
enemy trench has been taken to en- 
able them to die with a smile, Proust 
declares, seriously, that he finds this 

letter a piece of official tosh 'very 

The entire country is mobilized; 
there is an unprecedented unanimity 
of opinion. Proust bows before it 
as, having been well brought up, he 
would bow before a duchess. But he 
does state that only a man like 
Charlus is, thanks to his detachment, 
in a position to judge the events 
wisely, and the opinions which he puts 
into his mouth (precisely because he 
lacks patriotism) seem to him true or 
most nearly approaching truth. For 
Charlus (and for Proust) the War was 
only a vast piece of trickery; the peo- 
ple, if they had not been deceived, 
would have no real reason to carry on 
this struggle; and that is what makes 
the War so absurd. In the meanwhile, 
Charlus declares, the brilliant cham- 
pions of the newspapers apply them- 
selves daily to finding new reasons for 
fighting reasons which are nothing 
but lies and platitudes. Proust ex- 
presses through Charlus the following 
admirable sentiment: 'The truth is 
that every morning the War is being 
declared anew.' 

The world behind the lines of attack 
provokes the author to the bitterest 
irony. From the first pages Proust 
presents to us women in their new 
shortened dresses and turbans, pre- 
occupied by fashions and coiffures 
which are to 'rejoice the eyes of the 
fighters!' Mme. Verdurin's salon has 
become one of the most elegant in 
Paris. 'You will come at five o'clock 
to talk war,' says the hostess to those 
whom she invites. She considers the 
war a 'great nuisance* because the 
front takes away her 'faithful.' 

And that is really the author's point 
of view about the war, in spite of all 
the declarations to the contrary made 




in his letters in order to put him on 
record as a 'decent man.' It does not 
interest him; it does not mean any- 
thing to him as an artist. The struggle 
between the French and the Germans 
seems distant and unreal to him. He 
considers the grotesque, distant little 
creatures from the point of view of the 
infinite, and thinks that men 'are 
completely mad to continue their 
futile wars.' 

The point is that Proust is insensi- 
ble to the profound reality of social 
life. For him the individual plays such 
a profound part in his consciousness 
that he cannot imagine anything 
above or outside of him. Proust be- 
lieves that a nation consists of a total- 
ity of individuals, ignoring the fact 
that when men are united in groups, 
in mobs, in nations, a new collective 
consciousness entirely different from 
that of each one of the members is 
added to their individual conscious- 

Therefore one should not be sur- 
prised that Proust does not speak of 
the economic causes of the war, of the 
inflation, the misery, the wounded; 
nor can one find in his work the heart- 
rending horror of the front, nor any 
compassion for the lamentable state of 
the combatants. It is only in solitude 
that Proust feels the infinity of human 
sorrow so intensely. One is led to be- 
lieve that only in rare cases can a 
strong personality be equally sensi- 
tive both to the individual and collec- 
tive consciousness. This profound in- 
difference of Proust's explains how he 
could so easily conform to the patri- 
otic conventions and give us at times 
an impression of hypocrisy. 

The same mistake can be made on 
observing him at the salons. Opening 
at hazard one of the volumes I was 

struck, as Gide was when he first read 
Proust, by the superficial agitation 
and profound inanity of all those 
princes, dukes and duchesses. Did the 
author really admire these grand futile 
people.'' Was he a snob.'' 


It is true that from his childhood 
Proust had surrounded the great aris- 
tocratic names with poetic dreams. He 
created an ideal of the Duchess de 
Guermantes and connected it with 
that of her glorious ancestors whom he 
had seen in the tapestries and stained- 
glass windows of the Combray church. 
Perhaps a certain masochistic feeling 
entered into this admiration. Min- 
gling with the bourgeois, voluptuously 
he felt himself disdained, and when he 
remembered that the Guermantes 
once had the right of life and death 
over their vassals, he felt that he was 
losing all control, that, intoxicated 
with his own imagination, he would 
presently fling himself at her feet, *an 
earthworm enamored of a star.' 

When Proust reached the age of 
sixteen-seventeen, he was taken by a 
frantic desire to know the monde^ for 
him so full, because of its very in- 
accessibility, of prestige and delight. 
One finds in his novel frequent traces 
of this period of his life. He speaks to 
us of his 'first highness *-^the first to 
whom he had ever been presented 
and about his entree to the house of 
Madame de Guermantes as excep- 
tional events. 

This attitude of the young Proust 
explains his correspondence with Mon- 
tesquiou a man who was in a posi- 
tion to open for him the most inacces- 
sible doors of Paris. Proust, an obscure 
bourgeois, as yet unknown, felt him- 




self like a little boy before this grand 
gentleman, from whom he later drew 
the extraordinary figure of Charlus. 
Having succeeded in making such a 
connection, he does not hesitate to 
submit to his distinguished friend's 
caprices, to obey him scrupulously. 
He has for his cravat, his mots^ his 
poems, hyperbolic expressions of praise, 
like a courtesan. When Montesquiou 
is thrown into a fit of fury one of 
those legendary fits that usually 
ended in the grossest abuses Proust 
replies to him humbly; in order to 
have Montesquiou present at one of 
his parties, he is ready to exclude, for 
that evening, his most intimate friends. 

But gradually the letters greatly 
change in tone. We can see Proust 
outgrowing his passion, working and 
thinking of his novel as his only duty 
in life, while Montesquiou has re- 
mained a man of the world. Proust 
realizes the absence of culture in most 
of the nobles whose names seemed so 
beautiful to him, their poverty of 
spirit, their pettiness, their vices, and 
their malice. There is really no con- 
tradiction between the fanatic snob- 
bism of his youth and the severe 
condemnation of his riper years. This 
apparent contradiction can be ex- 
plained by reference to each period in 
his life. 

As a matter of fact, it was his per- 
sonal experience of snobbery that had 
prompted him to portray so power- 
fully the people of the salons. Proust 
has imparted to them his own worldly 
ambition, which is their only obses- 
sion. Snobbery has become a true pas- 
sion, violent and tyrannic, analogous 
to that for cards or alcohol. In the 
middle of the perpetual excitement 
which surrounds all these men of the 
world, mere tender sentiments are 

sacrificed. The friends who cannot 
follow are forgotten. Proust was not 
wrong in thinking that, considered 
from that point of view, which is the 
point of view of an artist, the life of these 
idlers is no less interesting than that 
of a worker or a small shopkeeper. 

However, what Proust has de- 
scribed is less one special social circle 
than a certain number of individuals 
taken one by one and each animated 
by the passion of snobbery. Proust 
never studies these persons in relation 
to their social convention. None of 
them has a profession. Nobody works, 
and they are all people of means. 
Here, as before, it is the author's social 
attitude that creates an illusion of 

In his description of an individual, 
and notably of love, we also have this 
impression of insincerity. When he 
declares that he has entered into 
Sodom and Gomorrha as one descends 
into Dante's Inferno, is this not a 
piece of pretense on his part? We see 
Proust proceeding to a veritable dis- 
sociation of his sentiments on love. On 
the one hand, he has extracted every- 
thing that has to do with true passion, 
on the other, everything related to the 
deviation of sexual desire. For this 
reason, he has devoted certain parts of 
his books to his feeling for Albertine 
and other parts almost independently 
to Charlus and others like him. If 
Proust has presented as the object of 
his passion not a young man but a 
young girl, it was because he wanted 
to give his work an entree everywhere. 
This seemed to him all the more 
natural since the profound nature of 
passion, its great psychological laws 
(its crystallization, anxiety, jealousy), 
seemed to him unchangeable in man, 
whatever the sex of his beloved. Most 




of the readers do not even notice this 
transposition, for the author in speak- 
ing of women evinces unparalleled 
skill and understanding. 

It is true that Proust has put into 
this love the most tender, freshest, 
purest associations. His love for Alber- 
tine is linked up with his youth, its 
enthusiasm, its puerile gravity, its 
moods of uncontrollable laughter. 
Hence the translucent and as if nacre- 
ous pages oijeunes filles enfleur that 
produce the spectacle of ' forms chang- 
ing unceasingly,' and of a 'perpetual 
recreation of primordial elements of 
nature.' Love in its communion with 
youth becomes in his hands, during 
certain moments of exceptional happi- 
ness, a sort of mystic rite which allows 
man to attain the ultimate reality in 


When, on the other hand, he under- 
takes the description of the homo- 
sexuals, he describes only the special 
character of their desire and its social 
consequence. Proust compares a homo- 
sexual to a thief, a spy, a madman. 
He shows us Charlus and that is 
what makes his first appearance so 
impressive obliged to watch care- 
fully every one of his looks, his words, 
his gestures. 

But Proust does not rebel against 
the persecutions suflFered by the homo- 
sexual. This is because he himself does 
not feel the need of unmasking. He has 
always accepted the customs and 
usages of the world as one accepts 
weather. Of course, perversion seems 
to him a phenomenon which is misun- 
derstood and vainly blamed. He 
knows the impotence of the social laws 
which seek to reduce it. But he does 
not express his feelings by an open 

protest. Rather is it apparent in his 
description of the homosexual's actual 
sufferings and the degrading lies to 
which he is perpetually reduced. This 
treatment of the subject which is 
otherwise so shocking for the reader 
makes it acceptable. We must not 
forget that Proust at the time was the 
first to treat this subject in literature. 
But he has gone beyond this. He has 
emphasized the ridiculous, grotesque, 
and often repugnant aspects of perver- 
sion, as in the celebrated scene where 
Charlus enters into an understanding 
with Jupien. Never was Proust more 
sincere than in these pages, for here he 
experiences a sort of a repulsion for his 
own desire and, realizing its pathologi- 
cal character, condemns it and him- 

Proust never portrays homosexuals 
as transfigured by any marvelous 
love. He leaves them nothing but the 
brutal pursuit of pleasure. Recipro- 
cated love, which is so rare even 
among normal beings, becomes for 
them such an exceptional phenomenon 
that they are reduced to seeking in the 
depths of prostitution illusions that 
would appease their needs. This habit 
of venal love by its very facility 
gradually spoils even the possibility 
of loftier passion. Money becomes 
the only means of satisfying their 

Such is the atmosphere; with all its 
nightmare-like horror, that pervades 
Proust's cursed Sodom. But this at- 
mosphere seems to spread little by 
little to all the parts of the novel. 
Almost all the characters reveal them- 
selves as 'inhabitants of the cities of 
the plain:' Saint-Loup, M. de Cam- 
bremer, Bloch's uncle, in their new 
aspect of Sodomites, the women. Mile. 
Vinteuil, Albertine, Andree, as women 




of Gomorrha. Normal or abnormal, 
the men can only attach themselves to 
inferior beings, to prostitutes, cocottes, 
valets. In Proustian society, love be- 
tween two beings of the same rank is 
an impossible phenomenon. It seems 
to me that this tendency of the author 
to generalize in his novel certain 
pathological traits of desire in the end 
obscures his vision. 

This is a question that is often 
raised about the works of most great 
writers. Almost all of Dostoievski's 
heroes are epileptics because he was 
one. But for that very reason they are 
able to reveal unsuspected depths. In 
Baudelaire we find a taste for mon- 
strous women; but precisely this has 
caused the poet to evolve marvelous 
aesthetics of ugliness. It is as if a cer- 
tain nervous lack of equilibrium, in 
distorting a writer's perception, per- 
mits him to comprehend the aspects of 
the exterior world which remain hid- 
den to a normal man. The unwhole- 
some signs of decadence which might 
embarrass us in Proust's books are in a 
way the ransom of his genius. 

Thus we arrive at the following 
general statement: both the patho- 
logical and hypocritic aspects of 
Proust's works are merely outward 
signs of the author's insensibility to 
the collective side of life. But Proust 
has attempted a sort of justification. 
Like Gide in his Faux Monnayeurs, he 
has interpolated in his novel a sort of 
'diary of that novel': he explains how 
he had achieved such a scene, how he 
had made such a discovery, and thus 
clarifies his aesthetic concepts. He 
bases them on the following assertion: 
a writer should not stir out of his ivory 
tower; social, moral, religious or 
political questions have no place in a 
work of art. 

These questions, Proust explains, 
can be only an object of abstract 
theorizing, of endless discussions: they 
cannot take us out of the domain of 
formal intelligence precisely the do- 
main beyond which an artist must 
pass. A writer who prefers to depict a 
labor movement rather than a group 
of idlers takes the easier way: a more 
intense eflFort is required to analyze 
the smallest emotion hiding in the ob- 
scure depths of our subconscious than 
to deal with the larger humanitarian 
ideas. Some critics admire the objec- 
tivity of writers indulging in the latter 
activity. Proust calls it 'false realism.' 

Of course, Proust did not realize 
that religious, moral or political sub- 
jects need not necessarily be reduced 
to simple intellectual problems. There 
are for an artist in collective life as 
profound emotions as may be found in 
the individual life. There is as much 
'reality' in one as in the other. We 
know that man cannot live isolated 
from the rest of society; and Proust, in 
ignoring that specific form of human 
activity which is social, imposed on 
his work limits which undoubtedly 
narrowed his horizons. 

On the other hand, the characteris- 
tics which constitute the true great- 
ness of the author appeared to me 
more clearly upon rereading his works. 
Believing, rightly, that pure ideas 
would not permit the deepest possible 
penetration into the subject, he holds 
that a writer should strive to pass 
through the layers of abstract specula- 
tion, of ready-made theories, of ready- 
made images, of conventions and of 
customs, to find supreme reality in the 
world of sensations and perceptions. 




All of Proust's work is a continual ef- 
fort to grasp in the depths of con- 
sciousness the essence of things, that 
is, emotions in their purest form. Only 
then does he subject them to the mi- 
nutest intellectual analysis. Thus he 
produces a vision of the universe which 
is entirely different from our concep- 
tion of it. This expression of the Abso- 
lute can only be found in the present 
if the author is able to associate it 
with the resuscitated emotions of the 
past. When he does that, it is as if he 
had plucked death and time out of the 
moment, making it imperishable. 

His style proceeds precisely from 
this method of research. Proust con- 
stantly strives to establish a relation- 
ship between two objects, or to find 
some quality common to two sensa- 
tions and to connect them by an image 
which is the true metaphor. Proust's 
metaphors are doors opening directly 
on mystery; they create perspectives 
of veritably magic depths. They make 
one forget Proust's weaknesses his 
long-winded phrases, reiterations, the 
occasional mannerisms that date his 
work; they are a source of perpetual 
poetic transfiguration of the universe. 
Swann's estate and the Guermantes' 
castle, associated with the almost 
mythological personages who inhabit 
them, become for the boy Marcel some 
super-terrestrial worlds: Swann's way 
and Guermantes' way. Here Odette's 
image is associated with a 'Florentine 
masterpiece ' ; Albertine's with a Balbec 
sea-scape; love with a certain spot in 
the scenery around him or with one 
little musical phrase of Vinteuil's 

These metaphors have a distorting 
power also: they make the most famil- 
iar objects appear other than they 
really are: a cocotte or Mme. de 

Saint Euverte is transformed into a 
'dame en rose,' or a hag; women seen in 
a stage box become naiads half 'sub- 
merged* behind the balustrades. In 
the Temps retrouve the famous ball of 
the Duchess de Guermantes seems to 
unroll before us in a strange, dull, 
sluggish, stuffy atmosphere: one can 
almost believe that the people were 
rigged out as if at a masquerade in 
powdered wigs, false double-chins and 
with leaden shoes on their feet. Thus 
Proust gives us a direct and shocking 
impression of their having aged. 

Proust's metaphors at times assume 
the morbid power of hallucinations. 
Like the modern poets, like Rimbaud, 
who sees 'a mosque in a factory, a 
salon at the bottom of a lake,' Proust 
seems to be haunted by a perpetual 
dream. We lose the dividing line be- 
tween dream and reality, sleep and 
awakening. The conscious life im- 
pinges upon the world of subcon- 
sciousness, imparting to his prose an 
almost boundless power of suggestion. 

The philosophical conclusion of 
Proust's works is based upon synthe- 
sized relativism and idealism. Outside 
of the world of poetry, nothing seems 
real to the author. In the perpetual 
flux of appearances, in the constant 
renewal of forms, he cannot attach 
himself to any fixed landmark. The 
points of view of a child, an adult, and 
an old man are so different from each 
other that a man finds himself facing a 
new world every time. The Albertine 
whom Proust had loved is not the 
same girl as the one by whom he is no 
longer charmed; she is not the same as 
the one whom Saint-Loup sees from 
his disinterested point of view. Thus 
Proust emphasizes the closed charac- 
ter of our personalities, our irremedi- 
able solitude. 




This negativist pessimism, which 
reminds us of Ecclesiastes, may- 
seem discouraging to us. If all in art 
is illusion, why act at all? Proust, be- 
ing a dualist, had doubtless sepa- 
rated too categorically the appear- 
ances from the absolute realities, the 
mobile and ephemeral images of the 
unknown world from the profound 
vital force. Today, on the contrary, 
the philosophers have a tendency to 
reconcile the 'phenomena' with the 
'nomena'. Thus we find the young 
men of today in a sense arrayed against 
Proust, in that, having a completely 
monistic and empirical conception, 
they apply themselves to tasks which 
require only observation and experi- 

The danger inherent in the position 
that Proust has taken is that it may 
inspire a man, because of his disgust 
for the world of illusion, with a des- 
perate desire to be united with God. 
Thus Bergson toward the end of his 
life has identified the vital force with 
catholic mysticism. Even the posi- 
tivists have not escaped this tempta- 
tion: Auguste Comte growing old 
created a religion for himself. Toward 
the end of his life Proust prayed for 
death. Not having any religious ideals, 
he wished only to throw off the endless 
chain of illusions, to escape from these 
pleasures and sorrows which are only 
aberrations of our senses, to attain as 
soon as possible the moment when he, 
Buddhist-like, could cease to stir, to 


What can such a writer bring to the 
youth of today, preoccupied as it is 
by social questions .? Here is a man who 
is completely antisocial. To the con- 
temporary youth Proust seems like a 

hermit living apart from society, al- 
though respecting its outward forms. 
Even family does not seem to exist for 
him: if he loves his mother it is not 
from any sense of duty. The pursuit of 
pleasure becomes his only duty: some- 
times an insignificant rendezvous with 
an unknown and easy-going creature 
(for example Mile, de Stermaria) 
causes in him an excitement seemingly 
disproportionate to its cause. He does 
not hesitate to remove all the obsta- 
cles, refusing on that day to come to 
the aid of a friend or to keep company 
with his mother, although she begs 
him to do so. It seems to him that to 
renounce this rendezvous, to fail to 
taste those unique moments, would be 
a crime that he could never forgive 

However, having realized the in- 
anity of all these pleasures, having 
exhausted little by little all the charms 
of worldly life, nothing is left for him 
but the joy of creation. Here egoism 
seems to him a necessary end: an artist 
should not let himself be distracted 
from his work by any intrusion of the 
outside world. 'Human altruism,' 
says he, * if not egotistic is sterile.' It is 
true that he had found in art moments 
of ineflPable emotion. He finds this 
happiness in memories connected with 
paintings: when, one day, Brichot 
comes to the museum to see the Ver- 
meer painting, that precious 'little 
panel in the wall painted in such beau- 
tiful yellow,' and, suddenly overtaken 
by a heart attack, dies, looking at this 
perfect color in a sort of ecstasy before 
losing consciousness; or in musical as- 
sociations, as one day when Proust 
hears the famous little phrase from 
Vinteuil's sonata and feels that this 
phrase opens up an unexplored world 
to him; at such a time Proust has his 




moments of 'time regained.' Nothing 
can seem more foreign to a young man 
of today than such an attitude to- 
ward life. Nowadays, in the economi- 
cal crises that overhang the world, 
when an adolescent can find no place 
for himself, he lacks this metaphysical 
unrest. He does not ask 'Why live?' 
but 'How to live?' He is not inter- 
ested in finding a reason for existence, 
but a society adapted to his prime 
needs. His ambition is not to belong to 
a salon, but rather to a social group, 
league, or party. Proust's works are 
completely opposed to such preoccu- 

But I doubt whether any great ar- 
tist could respond to thought so domi- 
nated by material worries. This is 
precisely why art, which demands an 
impartial attitude, never has mani- 
fested itself during the epochs of great 
social upheavals. When a man's se- 
curity and his possessions are threat- 
ened, when his spirit and his heart are 
entirely absorbed by everyday politi- 
cal life, when he is constrained every 
day to foresee, to decide, to act, he 
finds himself quite incapable of crea- 
tion. Neither the French revolution 
nor the War of 191 4, in spite of the 
greatness of these events, gave birth 
to great works of art. Only journalists, 
polemicists, diplomats and politicians 
were conspicuous at those times. One 
should also add that dictatorship, 
which frequently accompanies or fol- 
lows these troubled periods, such as 
the dictatorship of Napoleon or 
Clemenceau, definitely extinguishes 
all personal creative eflForts, and al- 
lows only official and conventional 
type of art. 

These conditions, I am afraid, are 
still not understood by the majority of 
the young generation. For them, an 

artist who strives to place himself 
upon an absolute level is a victim of 
vain idealism. It is impossible, they 
say, to seek beauty or truth in one's 
self. An artist ought to break down all 
walls between his ego and society. 
He should march hand in hand with 
other workers, particularly with the 
proletariat. There is no essential dif- 
ference between intellectual and man- 
ual work. Proust, who believes that the 
activity of an artist possesses special 
privileges as a sort of free, spontane- 
ous and gratuitous play of intellect, is 
in their eyes an idler. Here is a man 
inactive, sick, unwholesome, who passes 
most of his days in trying to resusci- 
tate the past, activity which he him- 
self calls, 'la recherche du temps per- 
du.' The youth of today at least agree 
with him in calling it 'temps perdu. ' 

The young people of today are 
wrong in considering Proust an idler 
just because he retains an objective 
attitude toward art. If Proust tries to 
revive the past it is not for the pleas- 
ure of self-contemplation: it is in order 
to clarify his emotions through in- 
telligence. There is perhaps no nobler 
activity than that of a man seeking to 
know himself and the world around 
him. But today, the existence of 
gratuitous activity of mind being 
ignored, pure knowledge for its own 
sake is neglected and despised by the 
young generation. An individual, un- 
cultured but physically healthy, an 
ignoramus with a sense of fraternal 
solidarity, they say, is more useful to 
society, to the national community, 
than an egotist genius; the fact is that, 
while the former might be useful, he 
could never be an artist. There is no 
place for true art in a society domi- 
nated by such concepts. The history 
of Sparta could be taken as an exam- 




pie of such a society. Perhaps it is 
necessary that we traverse these forms 
of civilization before the rebirth of 
new artistic vitality. Has not the art 
of the 19th century been advancing 
more and more into an impasse, and is 
not Proust's work perhaps an end 
rather than the point of departure.? 

Proust's conception of love is quite 
foreign to the youth of today. For 
him Passion takes, as we have seen, 
the form of physical desire, but desire 
thwarted by circumstances, so that 
the beloved becomes a source of mental 
complications to the lover. Hence long 
Proustian analyses of jealousy, anal- 
yses which disconcert the contempo- 
rary young reader. These psychological 
complications, coquetry, deceit, quar- 
rels, explanations, reconciliations,seem 
to him an outrageous waste of time. 
The theory of love limited to mere 
contact of epidermis has made numer- 
ous disciples among the representa- 
tives of the new generation, which 
wants to be realistic. Nevertheless 
there is nothing more unreal than this 
negation of passion which not only 
exists but also enriches the individual 
by its existence. 

It may be added that it is perhaps 
the fundamental pessimism of Proust's 
works that most disconcerts the con- 
temporary reader. At times Proust 
seems like a follower of Schopenhauer 
with Buddhistic tendencies. More and 
more alone in the last years of his life, 
Proust clings to art as the only thing 
that can save him in the changing 
world. Only art allowed him to bear 
his sufferings; he does not hesitate to 
prolong them in order to attain the es- 

sences of emotion, the ultimate aim of 
his work. We see him in his bed, sick, 
nervous, exhausted, but while his 
mind is still lucid thinking of nothing 
other than adding another passage to 
his book, or including a new metaphor 
in a phrase. One could say that out of 
the last moments of his life there 
emerges the figure of a hero who, al- 
though weak-willed and constantly 
dissipated in worldly pleasures, yet 
knew how to tap all the sources of his 
energy and to achieve the extraor- 
dinary inner concentration that was 
necessary for his work. 

Most certainly the young man of 
today has an entirely different con- 
ception of a hero; he sees him as a 
physically healthy man, disciplined, 
and capable, above all, of sacrificing 
his personality to collectivism. This 
man works with infinite joy and hope 
for the construction of a new society. 
There is nothing more vital, more en- 
chanting than such creative optimism, 
necessary whenever an individual de- 
votes himself to a practical enterprise. 
Nevertheless Proustian pessimism is 
no less fecund, for it deals with any 
form of action devoted to pure knowl- 
edge. Heroes need not be limited only 
to shock-workers, builders of mills and 
cities, great legislators; there is also 
heroic life in art. Thus, Proust has 
reason to claim that he has served his 
country well. He could not serve it 
otherwise than as a writer. And a 
writer cannot be useful to his country 
except when 'he studies the laws of 
art, learning to think of nothing else, 
(not even of his native land), but the 
truth before him.' 


An English woman radical reports her 
impressions, favorable and unfavorable, 
of the U. S. S. R., and a young Russian 
novelist writes a satirical sketch on 
the vicissitudes of those who hoard. 

Fact and Fiction 
IN THE U. S. S. R. 

L Whither Russia? . 

By Ethel Mannin 
From the New Leader ^ London Independent Labor Party Weekly 


MANY comrades have asked me, 
concerning my recent big Russian 
journey, 'What are your general im- 
pressions?' that I propose to try to 
condense into this brief article the 
reply to that question, which really 
needs a whole book which I am 
writing to answer adequately. 

With a Russian-speaking friend I 
covered some 7,000 miles, traveling 
with a consulate visa, which enables 
the bearer to travel freely, like a Rus- 
sian citizen, and which is not easy to 
get 'bootleg' rubles, and completely 
unconducted. From Moscow we went 
down through the Ukraine, from Kiev 
to Kharkov, down to Rostov-on-the- 
Don, and into the heart of the Cauca- 
sus, from Sotchi, a 'Riviera' resort on 

the Black Sea, to Nalchik, amongst 
the Caucasian mountains, over the 
Georgian Military Highway to Tiflis, 
and from thence by air to Baku, from 
which, though we had no permit to do 
so, permits for Russian Turkestan 
not being granted to English people 
except in very, very exceptional cases, 
we crossed the Caspian -Sea. 

We went right through Turkestan, 
from Krasnovodsk to Tashkent, stop- 
ping off at Samarkand, and back to 
Moscow on the five-and-a-half day 
train. How we evaded detection and 
expulsion, and the strange and won- 
derful things we saw on this vast 
journey, I have no space to recount 
here; I outline the ground covered 
merely to indicate that I have per- 



haps some little claim to knowing 
something about the real Russia 
which claim all too many people base 
merely on a knowledge of Moscow, 
judging Russia by which is as absurd 
as judging England by London. 

The general impression is one of 
progress a visible progress; building, 
building, all the time, everywhere, 
even out in the deserts and in the wild 
loneliness of the steppes. Everywhere 
are newly-erected blocks of workers' 
apartments, and blocks in the course 
of erection. After a year's absence I 
found Moscow almost unrecogniz- 
able, so rapidly and extensively has 
the building progressed. It is now a 
tremendously modern and American- 
ized city of semi-skyscrapers and fine 
large stores full of all manner of luxury 
goods, not merely perfumes, flowers, 
fancy goods, but luxury foodstuffs 
such as rich cakes, pastries, choco- 
lates, etc. Also the people are much 
better dressed than a year ago. 

It is the same story of progress all 
over Russia, in the Ukraine, the Cau- 
casus, Georgia, Armenia, Turkestan 
new blocks of apartments, workers' 
rest-homes and sanatoria, theatres, 
schools, universities, stores, hotels. 
That in the face of every conceivable ob- 
stacle and set-back which could possibly 
impede the progress of a country, the 
U. S. S. R. has achieved miracles, is ab- 
solutely undeniable. And that all over 
Russia there are still people living 
under very bad conditions does not 
alter this supreme and obvious fact. 

After all one has heard of improved 
living conditions in the U.S.S.R., it is 
admittedly a shock to find people, as 
we did, in Tiflis, Stalin's home-town, 
living in cellars, windowless, with 
earth floors, and in unspeakable hovels 
as on the oil-fields of Baku; to be ac- 

costed by beggars, and see people 
sleeping out at night; and outside of 
Moscow it is impossible not to get a 
depressing impression of a drab level 
of poverty where the crowds in the 
streets are concerned. 

But everywhere throughout the 
Union people assured us, 'Things are 
getting better every day,' and the 
answer to the bad living conditions 
still to be found is that building is go- 
ing ahead literally day and night. 
Under the * Rebuilding of Moscow' 
scheme, it is planned eventually to 
double the room-space of everyone. 

Russia is not yet the Promised 
Land; she is still the Promising Land 
but there is every reason to believe 
that she will fulfil her promises in the 
matter of decent living conditions for 
all; she is, indeed, fulfilling them as 
fast as she can. Food is plentiful and 
no longer rationed. The aim is not to 
raise wages, but to lower the cost of 
living, which has fallen within the last 


It is no just or true or pertinent 
criticism to say of Russia that she is 
not yet Utopia; the marvel is that 
under the circumstances she has 
achieved so much. What is a pertinent 
criticism, and a bitter disappointment, 
is that she should yet be so far from 
having achieved a classless society. 
Equality she does not claim to have 
achieved but is that any reason, for 
example, why, within a short walk of a 
commissar's charming palatial sum- 
mer home the family has also an 
apartment in Moscow the workers 
of a State (not collective) farm should 
live four to a squalid room? One 
dreadful room we inspected contained 
too narrow iron bedsteads and a chair. 




and housed a man and a woman and 
two young children. The commissar 
and his wife are also four in a family, 
but they have a whole house with 
large rooms and servants and every 
comfort . . . 

Again much is made of the fact 
that the tourist boats which run from 
London to Leningrad are virtually one 
class, the second and third class pas- 
sengers having the free run of the 
decks and lounges; it is a very differ- 
ent story with the steamers of the 
Caspian Sea, which my friend and I 
crossed fourth class, because, after 
waiting all day in a queue for tickets, 
nothing else was available. (A large 
number of 'delegates,' we were told, 
had caused a run on the first.) Fourth 
class admits you to the boat and no 
more; you lie on the deck, in the bows, 
completely without shelter. For two 
nights and a day we lay on the deck by 
the anchor chains, not an inch of 
deck-space visible, so closely were we 
packed . . . The covered first class 
deck was empty at the time when the 
first class passengers lay snug in their 
cabins. You would have thought that 
those of us compelled to lie on the 
deck might at least have been allowed 
to do so under cover. 

You would have thought that in a 
Socialist country delegates, commis- 
sars, and Red Army officers would 
take their chance of getting 'soft' 
places on trains and steamers, queue- 
ing up like anyone else, instead of be- 
ing privileged. But over and over 
again, traveling not as tourists but 
like Russian citizens, we failed to get 
soft places on the trains because they 
were all taken, we were told, by com- 
missars and Red Army officers. Once 
when I had secured a soft place, it 
was 'commandeered* at the last min- 

ute, and I was unable to travel that 

That a new bourgeoisie of better- 
paid workers (one engineer I know in 
Moscow gets 2,000 rubles a month, 
and has a charming four-room 
apartment for himself and his wife! 
Another engineer friend of mine gets 
only 200 rubles a month, and he and 
his wife share one squalid room in an 
apartment which houses three other 
couples, their communal servant sleep- 
ing in the kitchen on the floor) and of a 
privileged class professional work- 
ers, writers, artists, etc. is growing 
up, I am afraid I am convinced . . . 
unless something is done to check it. 

Granted that the more valuable 
worker is entitled to better pay, the 
disparity in wages and privileges is 
still, in my opinion, too great to be 
consistent with the true Socialist ideal 
of each according to his needs; the 
skilled engineer and the great artist, 
for example, are more valuable to the 
community than the unskilled laborer 
and the scavenger, and therefore en- 
titled to higher remuneration, but 
that is no reason why they and their 
families should be given comfortable 
apartments whilst the unskilled la- 
borer and his family are crowded 
into one room; the latter, as a fellow 
human being, needs the same living 
conditions as the more gifted, and 
therefore more valuable -worker; to 
make privileges of decent living condi- 
tions is to violate the whole Marxist 
principle of each according to his 

Taking all these things into con- 
sideration, not excluding its militarism 
and its foreign policy, it is impossible 
not to see Russia today as a gigantic 
question-mark and anxiously ask 
concerning it quo vadis? 




II. Makaroonovna 

By Lev Kassil 
Translated from Izvestia, Moscow Official Government Daily 

WlIAT kind of a life I lead? I'll 
tell you: I don't function in any- 
official capacity. I myself am a house- 
wife; I am registered as pertaining to 
my husband. But my fame has gone 
far and wide, okh, very far and wide. 

I was notorious. And what I had to 
stand because of the neighbors' envy 
. . . ! From that same envy they 
nicknamed me Makaroonovna, that is 
to say, because I was hoarding maca- 
roons and all kinds of I don't know 
what vermicelli. . . Truth to tell, I 
was a great hoarder in my day. The 
question of provisioning was com- 
pletely solved as far as / was con- 
cerned. Wherever anything was given 
out, the merchandise just this minute 
arrived, people still taking stock of it, 
and there I was, the first one at the 
door, having started a queue in good 
time. I used to run around the whole 
day from morning to night, collecting 
provisions. My house became a regu- 
lar provisioning camp. 

In money I have no trust. Money 
what is it? Nothing but a rustle: no 
solidity to it. I first had trouble with it 
in '17: hoarded up 2,542 rubles worth 
of Nikolaievki and Kerenki [money 
printed respectively under Nicholas 

II and Kerenski] and to no purpose! 
Good-for-nothing money! But take 
goods the value is constant, and you 
are fed and clothed and at the same 
time have made a solid investment. 
That's something that won't fall 
through; it's good business. So I 
hoarded provisions. And was I clever 

in this business? You have no idea! 
Of tea alone I had four-and-a-half 
kilos, two boxes of biscuits, five bags 
of flour, and I don't know how much 
sugar altogether about fifty kilos. 
Then, besides, macaroons, dried mush- 
rooms, all sorts of conserves. I still 
have twenty cans of American evap- 
orated milk from '20. Then all kinds 
of cereals, rice, barley and such . . . 

Well, if I say so myself, it was such 
a spectacle of beauty that the few 
chosen friends who were allowed to 
behold it said outright: 'You, Anto- 
nina Makarovna, have here a regular 
museum on the provisioning question. 
I have never seen the like of such 
beauty; it makes one's mouth water 
and effects a gnawing in one's vitals.' 

Understand, I am no speculator. 
No such thing. I am registered as per- 
taining to my husband, and he, please 
understand, is a technician in the 
watch industry. I did not hoard my 
reserves for any speculative purpose. 
Simply for the tranquillity of my soul. 
In case there's a famine. . . . You 
can't believe everything the news- 
papers say about how things are 
getting better and better. After all, 
newspapers are like money nothing 
but a rustle. You can't stuff yourself 
on them. And here my sister comes 
from the provinces for a visit and tells 
me: 'Okh, sister, better hoard food 
for the long years to come or you'll 
weep bitter tears of hunger; and food 
products are a good investment.' So I 




There was a chance to buy some 
copra; an invalid was selling it. I 
myself don't rightly know what it is; 
somebody said that you can extract 
nourishing oils out of it. So I took 
twelve kilos, just in case. 

And believe it or not, we ourselves 
never laid a finger on all that splendor. 
I never let any one of my folks near it. 
Because if you start taking, you can 
count the products as lost. Of course, 
sometimes on holidays guests would 
come around; then I'd ruin myself a 
little, serve something from my hidden 
stores. You should see everyone's 
amazement: 'However did you,' they 
would say, 'Antonina Makarovna, 
save all this splendor? This flour 
alone just look at it! Simply azure. 
As for rice one grain is better than 
the other. Pearls and not rice, that's 
what it is. Absolutely,* they'd say, 


And then this business began. 
First they abolished the bread ration- 
cards. Well, I think, that's nothing. 
Flour is not an important item with 
me. The main thing is sugar. All my 
hopes were pinned on sugar. Of 
course, the flour situation was heart- 
breaking. It got to be so cheap that I 
lost fifteen rubles on every pood. And 
then, you understand, they take to 
abolishing all the other food-cards. 
That proved to be the ruin of me. 
After that everything went to the 
dogs. All the prices fell. The sugar, 
from which I expected great things, 
and caramels everything went. Why, 
I lost seventy kopeks on every blessed 
kilo of refined sugar. As for selling it 
who would buy.? 'Your sugar,' they 
say, 'is stale, while in the stores they 
sell it fresh.' Finally I became com- 

pletely distracted, as if the floor had 
been knocked out from under me, and 
my fame disappeared as if it had never 
existed. Wherever you go, they offer 
you cookies and biscuits and tea fully 
equipped with sugar. And I have 
nothing left to boast about. Total 

'Well,' I think, 'no use in hoarding 
any more.' So I invited guests. My 
nephew, a student, came with a friend, 
my son-in-law brought his colleagues. 
I served them all I had, sparing noth- 
ing. But I had nothing but aggrava- 
tion in return. They started on the 
pudding; all of a sudden something 
crunches between the teeth. Natu- 
rally, some time has passed since I 
first began hoarding the rice: a bug or 
two had crept in, or maybe a mouse 
left some traces. What can you expect ? 
You can't put it all through a sieve. 

My nephew is like all the young 
men of today : no respect. He chews a 
little, makes a face, spits it out and 
says: 'Excuse me, auntie, but I'm not 
accustomed to eating victuals with 
bugs and the leavings of mice in them. 
They serve us better stuff in the 

Then he asks: 'What kind of a 
peculiar evaporated milk have you 
here.? My gracious, don't tell me it's 
from '20? Well,' says he, 'auntie, I can 
see your brains are in the same 
evaporated state as the milk. For whose 
wedding were you saving it.? Don't 
you know that it can be obtained any- 
where nowadays ? * 

Here my son-in-law chimes in: 
'Likewise the flour in the pie smells 
of naphthaline. No reason for you, 
mamma,' says he, 'to inaugurate all 
this economy. Should have bought new 
flour and baked a whacking fine pie.' 

I serve jam good jam from '28 and 




it turns out to be all candied. 'You 
should have bought some in Gastro- 
nom,' they tell me. All the aggravation 
I had that evening . . . 

For what, please clarify, did I 
hoard the stuff? Denied myself things ? 
Invested all that money? What's 
money it was my whole soul I put 
into it! 

Meanwhile the nephew says: 'Too 
bad, auntie, that you've never read 
Jack London.' 

'What good is your Jack London to 

'Jack London,' says he, 'wrote a 
story about how one starving man was 
rescued by a ship and began saving up 
provisions the minute he was aboard. 
Mind you, he was well fed; but he 
couldn't help wanting to hoard. He 
even stuffed biscuits into the holes of 
his mattress. And he was in his right 
senses, only he feared all the time that 
something would happen and he'd be 
reduced to starvation again. It was a 
mania . . .' 

'Enough,' say I, 'you should be 
ashamed to reproach your own old 
aunt with Jack London.' 

And the other day I see my grand- 
daughter just learned to talk pull- 
ing some papers out of a drawer. I 
looked goodness gracious, it's my 
old food cards that she's got a hold of. 
To tell the truth, I am still keeping 
them. I still have some herring owing 

on three coupons and soap on the 
fourth . . . You never can tell. 

' Is it sensible,' say I, ' to play with 
such things? These are cards.' 

'No pictures why?' she asks, 
'cards always have pretty uncles and 
aunts painted on them . . .' 

'No, no. That's another kind of 
cards,' I say. 'These are different: we 
used to get bread on these.' 

'Because you had no plates?' she 
says. 'Yes?' 

'No, it has nothing to do with 
plates . . . We used to get the bread 
out of the shops. You know what shops 

'I know, that's where there are 
candies in the windows.' 

'Well, candies you get by another 
coupon,' I say. 

'Grannie,' she says, 'couldn't you 
give me a candy on this one?' 

I can't understand the child: must 
be mentally retarded. Why, last year 
the children had hardly learned to 
talk when they would already run, 
crying: 'Auntie, they are giving butter 
out in the cooperative.' Otherwise 
how can one live? Some children are 
now growing up without ever seeing a 
bread-card, not even knowing what 
the word means. 

But what do you think of my mis- 
fortune? Now I don't even know what 
to invest in. There's no place for a truly 
thrifty individual. Total ruination! 




against wearing uniforms, holding 
processions and distributing litera- 
ture, confiscation of presses found to 
have printed opposition newspapers, 
limitations on free speech, political 
meetings, etc. Recently a bill has been 
passed prohibiting the formation of 
private armies this is directed princi- 
pally against National Socialist squad- 
rons. There is also talk of introducing 
advance censorship of newspapers and 

magazines. Critics point out that 
these economic and political meas- 
ures have not materially reduced un- 
employment or political unrest. The 
Government, however, believes that 
the policy it follows is the only one that 
can lead the Netherlands out of the 
depths of the crisis, and it is sup- 
ported in this conception by the major 
parties, including those not repre- 
sented in it. 

II. Days in Switzerland 
By Otto Zarek 

Translated from the Pester Lloydy Budapest German-language Daily 

i\NYONE who keeps telling a bril- 
liant and beautiful woman how beau- 
tiful she is insults her with his flattery. 
This is the fate of Switzerland, and 
the Swiss are sensitive to it. By this 
time they are well aware that their 
mountains are incomparable, their 
lakes of crystal blue, their hillside 
meadows fragrant with flowers. The 
ecstasy of the hotel visitor arouses a 
certain amount of contempt, often 
even sneers and hatred. The Swiss 
people have an existence of their own, 
as it were an existence apart from 
Switzerland. They are peasants of 
exemplary economy, technicians of 
world rank, scientists, painters, even 
poets and last but not least poli- 
ticians: above all, in their own opin- 
ion, politicians. They follow this pro- 
fession traditionally, with great joy, 
with civic pride, with sober shrewd- 
ness and thoroughgoing patriotism. 
To discover the Swiss and it is a real 
discovery, for the Chinese Wall of 
their mental isolation must be broken 
down one must leave hotels far be- 
hind, penetrate into their homes and 

settle down as a guest at their fire- 
side. One must be very modest; one 
must keep silent and listen; one must 
not pretend to know anything better, 
for one finds out very quickly that 
that is simply not the case. The best 
thing to do is to smoke one's pipe. 
The longer they see you quietly smok- 
ing, the fonder they grow of you. 

But then suddenly worlds open. 
The fog recedes, and true feelings re- 
veal their primeval power. There is 
friendship in Switzerland indeed, a 
strange country! No longer is one a 
guest but rather a member of the 
family, like 'the stranger within the 
gates' of the Old Testament. Much 
that seemed impossible 'before now 
becomes permissible. There are apples 
to be picked from the trees and eaten 
before breakfast. The neighboring 
canton may be criticized as if one 
were a native. Political opponents 
may be characterized as foreigners be- 
cause their families came to Switzer- 
land in the 14th century. One may 
help to lug branches and stumps to 
the highest mountain to light the 




mountain fire and that is a great 

The Swiss at home that is a chap- 
ter by itself. Outside Davos, the noisy 
sanatorium town, full of sick people, I 
found in the tiny villages of the high 
valleys farmhouses with huge libraries 
built into the wood-paneled walls. 
When the crop is in, the Davos peas- 
ant of old Wallis stock reads Schopen- 
hauer, Hamsun and Thomas Mann. 
His critical judgment is very sure. It 
is significant that the great art critics 
of the world, Jakob Burckhardt and 
Heinrich Wolfflin, are Swiss. 


It is the 'inner Switzerland' that 
really presents the true spirit of Swiss 
life, free of all dross. Who of the thou- 
sands traveling on the Express from 
Zurich to Berne leave the train at 
Aarau, the capital of Aargau canton? 
Here the country is level, though still 
surrounded by mountains. No wild 
mountain torrents foam in the val- 
leys; instead industries have settled 
here, and bright new buildings have 
replaced rhododendrons and gentian 
fields. Aarau is an old town, a cultural 
center. Among the countless people 
who have left its school to set their 
mark on the world was a precocious, 
dreamy boy, always ready for a school- 
boy prank, a boy who had often 
amazed his teachers by his stupendous 
ability in the field of mathematics. He 
was not particularly outstanding in 
school, excepting one time when, at 
fifteen, he climbed the Sikoretta 
Mountain with two friends, without 
permission and without a guide, and 
almost fell into a crevasse. At that 
time he was reported to the high and 
mighty rector and severely repri- 

manded. Chuckling with delight, the 
older gentlemen tell stories about this 
schoolmate of theirs, for his name is 
Albert Einstein. 

A local railroad goes up the Wynen 
valley to Menziken, the birthplace of 
those who helped to make the canton 
rich. I visit the schoolhouse *Auf der 
Burg' which takes its name from the 
old castle it has replaced. It is a sunny, 
brand-new building with all the mod- 
ern pedagogical equipment. Its school- 
master is the genuine 'unknown 
Swiss ' whom the tourists never get to 
see. Early in the morning he works in 
the garden ; after dinner he plays with 
his child; then he reads till evening. 
In the evening he conducts the men's 
choir of Beromiinster, a neighboring 
town. Late at night the intellectuals of 
the valley gather around his jovial 
board. Here Jakob Wassermann lived 
for a long time; in this very room he 
worked on Kerkhovens 'Third Exist- 
ence; in this very cozy corner he read 
the latest pages of his novel to the 
schoolmaster of Burg, one of the most 
ardent admirers of modern art. 

The intellectual center of Zurich 
is at present outside the city in the 
friendly Kiisnacht; here Thomas Mann 
has made his home. This beautiful 
Kiisnacht, blooming with flowers, is 
now the Mecca of liberal thought. 
From the bank of the lake it stretches 
up along the wooded hillside; it 
spreads along the meadows with its 
compact houses, not one of which is 
extravagant but all of which are well- 
groomed, modern and comfortable. 
High above the others stands Thomas 
Mann's house. It is only rented, but 
Frau Katja, his faithful companion, 
has imparted the warm South German 
atmosphere of coziness to all the un- 
familiar rooms. The author's study is 



his pride; he says that it is even better 
than the study in his Munich home. 
From it one has the loveliest view of 
the deep blue lake surrounded by the 
white-crested chain of the Alps. In the 
living room, which is like a reception 
hall, there stands, a remnant of the 
beloved home, a big cupboard from 
the author's library, and two gigantic 
wood-carved candelabra, dating from 
Liibeck's Renaissance period, which 
have been with the author of Budden- 
brooks ever since his childhood. 

The house is a shelter for his six 
children, who occasionally come to- 
gether from many lands. The young- 
sters live there; they are master musi- 
cians and will soon give concerts. Golo, 
the young philosopher, is lecturing in 
St. Cloud; he is, however, a frequent 
visitor in Kiisnacht where he is com- 
pleting his study of Hegel or discussing 
timely philosophical issues in Swiss or 
French papers. Erica is on the road 
with her group. Sometimes Klaus ap- 
pears, the young novelist, who has 

already established a reputation for 
himself and has been quite successful. 

At the table there is a feeling of 
comfort, so characteristically German. 
The peculiar humor of Thomas Mann, 
so worldly-wise and good-natured, and 
yet when a serious occasion demands 
it, evincing both vitality and penetra- 
tion, seasons all discussion on the 
topics of the day, and makes it palat- 
able. When the meal is ended, and 
cofFee and, true to Northern custom, 
the bitter-sweet Kummel or brandy are 
served in the living room, the conver- 
sation becomes freer. We discuss the 
writer's work, that ripens toward its 
completion in hospitable Switzerland, 
which is doing its best to become his 
second home. 

Little Switzerland, with its few 
million inhabitants, this nation of 
peasants and bookreaders, represents 
a large percentage of true culture, of 
European intellect. To the stranger 
she offers her beauty; to the friend she 
offers her spirit. 

Haile Selassie's Peace Plan 

The Council of the League of Nations received today the peace plan 
submitted by the Negus. His Majesty has deviated slightly from the 
precedent established by Messrs. Laval and Hoare, but he likewise in- 
dicates his sincere desire to end a conflict which has been condemned by 
the League of Nations and by all civilized peoples. 

The south of Italy, that is to say, Calabria, as yet uncivilized (who 
has not heard of the Calabrian outlaws.^), and Sicily are to be com- 
pletely and entirely ceded to Ethiopia. The regions of Abruzzi and Sar- 
dinia will form what Messrs. Laval and Hoare once called ' the zone of 
economic expansion,' that is, a zone reserved for Ethiopians only. 
Lastly, Lombardy and Piedmont will be placed under the control of the 
League of Nations. Far from wishing to make an assault upon the moral 
integrity of Italy as a nation, the Negus will leave Mussolini the Ro- 
magna, the immediate vicinity of Vesuvius, the city of Rome proper, 
and the whole Holy City of the Vatican. 

The Council of the League of Nations will decide upon this plan in 
the near future. Peace is on its way. 

Jules Rivet, in the Canard EnchainSy Paris 


Hitler. By Rudolf Olden. Amsterdam: 
^erido Verlag. i^jd. 

(R. H. S. Grossman in the Spectator, London) 

npHE English tourist who crosses the 
German frontier moves at once into an 
entirely strange world. But he does not 
know it. The railways, the hotels and the 
museums the only parts of Germany 
which he really sees are just as they 
were in the days of the Republic. But 
under this superstructure of international 
respectability lives a nation whose econ- 
omy, morality and religion have been 
completely transformed. So complete is 
this transformation that anyone who is 
initiated into it soon begins to believe 
that England is an unreal fantasy. Im- 
perceptibly he accommodates himself to 
the new standards: imperceptibly he ac- 
cepts the life of Nazi Germany as the 
normal life of the modern State. When he 
returns to England, the reverse process 
occurs. Again he feels himself in a dream 
world, a world of law and order where 
you can speak without fear of spies, 
where truth is attainable and where de- 
cent people do not always go in fear of 
their lives. Gradually he accommodates 
himself to the change, and Nazi Germany 
in its turn becomes a nightmare, some- 
thing which you read about in the penny 
papers but which cannot really exist. 

Anyone who has lived in both England 
and Germany will recognize this feeling of 
hallucination which overcomes the trav- 
eler as he moves from one country to the 
other. He cannot simultaneously believe 
both worlds to be real. In reading Olden's 
new book I had a similar sensation. For 
the first fifty pages I felt: 'This cannot be 
true: it is grotesquely one-sided, a ma- 
licious parody of the facts.' As I read on, I 
began to settle down again in Nazi Ger- 
many. The feeling of nightmare passed: 
this was the sober truth, the German 

truth which no one who has not experi- 
enced a little of it can possibly believe. 
This farrago of sadism, idealism and cun- 
ning is the biography of the Founder of 
the Third Reich. It is interesting to ob- 
serve how Olden has achieved this effect. 
He has added very few facts to the data 
already gathered by Conrad Heiden in his 
History of National Socialism and by 
Arthur Rosenberg in his History of the 
German Republic. Apart from some sordid 
details about Hitler's family, and some 
recollections of his Vienna days furnished 
by a fellow-vagrant, there is little new 
material in this book. As history it is 
sketchy and disjointed: no solid frame- 
work of economic or political causation is 
attempted. Instead, Olden has immersed 
himself in the turgid waters of Mein 
Kampf. His biography is indeed a brilliant 
commentary upon Hitler's own auto- 
biography, with parallel passages from 
Goebbels' reminiscences. 

Olden's commentary makes one fact in- 
contestably clear the consistency of the 
Leader's policy. Mein Kampf was pub- 
lished ten years ago. Hitler has never 
swerved from the principles there enunci- 
ated. In it he laid all his cards upon the 
table his objective, the destruction of 
the weak, the triumph of the strong; his 
methods of propaganda, the repetition of 
simple slogans until they are believed; his 
tactics, to side with the influential people 
and to use every means to power avail- 
able; his panacea for social evils, the 
annihilation of the Jews; his political pro- 
gram, to maintain capitalism, to increase 
armaments and to win the war of revenge. 
Everything was to be read in Mein Kampf 
by anyone bold enough to brave its style. 

From the day of the Munich Putsch^ 
when the Reichswehr fired on the S.A., 
Hitler decided to keep on the safe side of 
the Law and of the Army. His revolution- 
ary supporters said to themselves that the 




Leader was a clever man to talk in that 
way. But he meant it, as those revolu- 
tionaries found to their cost on June 30th. 
Equally clearly he maintained his inten- 
tion, at whatever cost, of exterminating 
the Jews. His conservative backers thought 
it excellent election chatter. But he meant 
that too. He has been completely open and 
outspoken; but friend and foe alike have 
heard only what they wished to hear. Will 
he have the same miraculous success in 
foreign affairs? Here too Mein Kampf is 
unequivocal. And yet, charmed by the 
magic of his personality and their own 
wishes, the foreign Powers, too, seem in- 
clined to say: 'He cannot really mean it: 
after all he must be a normal, intelligent 
man.' Nothing has contributed more to 
his success than this belief that, when it 
came to a pinch. Hitler would behave in 
the normal way. But Hitler is not a nor- 
mal man. 

What is it that makes him the prodigy 
that he is? Olden rightly points to the fact 
that his complete philosophy of life, apart 
from the finishing touches added by Alfred 
Rosenberg, was conditioned by his va- 
grant years in pre-War Vienna. His pan- 
Germanism, anti-Semitism, anti-Social- 
ism, anti-Liberalism are all resultants of 
that dreary period when he slept in doss- 
houses and tinted picture postcards for a 
living. There has been no development 
since then, only adaptation to circum- 
stance. For close on twenty-five years he 
has had no intellectual cares: in an epoch 
of doubt and uncertainty his adolescent 
fixations have suflFered no change. Sec- 
ondly, his conception of politics is pecul- 
iar. Denying the importance of econom- 
ics, despising the working-classes as fools 
for whose intelligence no lie can be too 
stupid, he has remained unscathed by the 
worries which attack the normal politician 
and has felt no impulse to attack injustice 
or inequality. Profoundly respectful to 
the army, the capitalist and the Junker^ 
he has longed only to abolish the system 
which deliberately gives to the weak and 
the oppressed weapons with which they 

can defend themselves against the strong. 
Rejecting the fundamental principle of 
democratic civilization, he has longed to 
restore the pristine glory of a Germany 
where the strong ruled and the weak were 

These are qualities which belong to 
many of us singly. Bestow them all upon 
one man and add the gift of illimitable 
rhetoric: you have created a national 
portent. Herr Hitler has been the supreme 
dissolvent of political parties. By substi- 
tuting the Weltanschauung for the prin- 
ciple as the bond of unity, he has trans- 
formed the party into the amorphous 
mass. As Olden says, there is no Left or 
Right under National Socialism. For Left 
and Right imply differences of principle, 
whereas National Socialism is the denial 
of principle. Stripped of the political, per- 
sonal and religious loyalties of common, 
democratic humanity, the nation becomes 
an obedient herd. In charge of the herd 
are a few discordant herdsmen, and be- 
hind the herdsmen dimly discerned stand 
the owners of the cattle. The owners are 
perhaps a little uneasy. They have paid 
the herdsmen well, but they realize that 
only one among them knows the word of 
command to which the cattle answer. If he 
should fail . . . But a kindly providence 
has arranged that Herr Hitler's respect 
for the powers that be is beyond question. 

So Olden. Such ideas will seem fantastic 
to most English readers. I found them 
fantastic too, as I put Olden's book aside 
and returned to the routine of English life. 
And yet the suspicion haunts me that his 
fantasy happens to be the sober truth. 

Dachau Eine Chronik. By Walter 
Hornung. Zurich: Europa-Verlag. /pjj. 

(Oscar Maria Graf in the Neue JVeltbubne, Prague) 

A BOOK has been published that 
bears the simple title: Dachau A 
Chronicle. The author, previously un- 
known, seems to have begun writing only 
because of the experience he describes. 




The title of the book is well chosen. It 
is purely a record; although not a very- 
pretty one, it is deeply stirring instead. 
Its impressiveness is accentuated by its 
wonderfully restrained and unadorned 
style. There are scenes in this book which 
even the most imaginative writer could 
not have written. Only one who has actu- 
ally experienced the reality could have 
so set them down. 

The writer, a former convict who was 
at the very beginning taken to the Dachau 
concentration camp, and who had to re- 
main there until Christmas, 1933, tells of 
the gradual growth of the camp, of the 
indescribable brutality of the storm-troop 
guards, of the inhuman slavery of the 
prisoners and of the truly heroic grandeur 
of German workers, who, after a bitter 
defeat, stand together in suflFering and 

The record goes beyond this: it tells of 
the political events of the year 1933. It 
tells of the events that took place around 
the notorious June 30, 1934, after the 
author had been released. The book, there- 
fore, becomes a contemporary document 
of great importance, giving much new in- 
formation. It is a lasting memorial to all 
those unknown, silenced fighters, de- 
stroyed or still under threat of destruc- 
tion by German Fascism. 

In a short preface the author insists 
that he is giving a thoroughgoing and 
truthful picture of the largest concentra- 
tion camp in Hitler Germany, the organi- 
zation of which became a model for all 
camps. He continues: 'The horrors of my 
experiences have at times rather handi- 
capped the description, for it is painful to 
rise against the land of one's birth, as it is 
painful to accuse one's own mother . . .' 

There was no need for him to put it in 
words. One believes him after the first 
few sentences, for this book is true from 
beginning to end. Nor is it merely the 
ring of truth that makes the book so 
deeply impressive. The overwhelming fact 
is that unexpectedly and unwittingly we 
become the witnesses of a profound human 

catharsis. Not only the leading character, 
Firner, with whom the author identifies 
himself, but all the Socialist and Com- 
munist workers who languish and suffer 
in this living hell of Dachau rise above 
their torments to truly heroic stature. 
Even death finds them unbowed. Those 
that fall under the shots and kicks of the 
sadistic storm-troopers, showing their for- 
titude to the last, are forever enshrined in 
our indignant hearts. And all those who 
survive the horrors are hardened to the 
struggle for the future Germany of free- 

No other book I have recently read 
made me feel so definitely that these 
workers will win. It should be smuggled 
into Germany by thousands of copies. It is 
a revolutionary deed ! It stirs and lifts you 
up at the same time. It jolts the faint- 
hearted sceptic out of his lethargy and 
turns him into a fighter. Who can doubt 
that these are the Germans of tomorrow ? 

After a period in the dungeon, the for- 
mer company-leader Zeuner, a Communist 
worker, is asked by the storm-troop com- 
mander if he still is a Communist. ' Com- 
mander,' he answers, *I have been in the 
dungeon seven months. What can you 
expect from me ? I am still convinced that 
a rebuilding of Germany is possible only 
in a Communist society!' 

The author continues simply: 'The 
Commander answered Zeuner: "You are 
a man of character," and presented him 
with a pipe.' 

Only a person who has gone through 
hell can report so simply. I don't want to 
say too much, but I believe that this 
'Chronicle of Dachau' will remain. It 
will be read long after the new Germany 
has come into being. 

Gabriele d'Annunzig. By Gerald Griffin. 
London: John Long. 1936. 

(Cyril Connolly in the Sunday Times, London) 

pjERE at last is an English life of one of 

the most fascinating living enigmas, 

D'Annunzio. To understand him is to un- 




derstand the side of Fascism that is most 
alien to us, the cult of glory (I can think of 
no worse punishment for politicians than 
having to read one of D'Annunzio's war- 
speeches) . 

D'Annunzio has a threefold importance: 
as a novelist he dates so definitely that he 
is the last embodiment of the decadence of 
the nineties the decades of Huysmans's 
Satanism and Wilde's Salomes; as a poet 
he is the last grand character in the Byron 
tradition: romantic, cynical, scandalous 
and subversive. His life has been a series 
of great love affairs, debts, extravagances 
and beaux gestes. 

His poetry is highly inflammable and 
characterized by rhetoric and affecta- 
tion in the manner of Heredia. Yet there 
is probably no living writer with such 
command of language. He is the Italian 
Swinburne, and yet able to write at 
times with a Dantesque simplicity. But 
like all verbal jugglers he suffers from his 
best work's being approached with the 
suspicion that is so rightly accorded to his 

Lastly, he is important as a man of 
action. Mr. Griffin points out that though 
he is open to criticism on almost all other 
counts, as a man of courage he is a 
phenomenon, and physical bravery still 
remains one of the most admired and ad- 
mirable of human qualities. 

Politically he is the precursor, almost 
the founder, of Fascism, and he could have 
been its leader, too, had he so desired. We 
see Fascism starting through his speeches 
and fantastically daring air-raids, as a 
small defeatist movement of heroes and 
patriots noble in adversity yet gradu- 
ally becoming aggressive with success, and 
frankly predatory with the annexation of 
Fiume: an episode in which the poet, un- 
able to govern, and unwilling to abdicate, 
appears at his most adolescent worst. 

For it is clear that from his first appear- 
ance as an incredibly gifted and dazzling 
boy he never really grew up. He pleaded 
the poet's exemption from taking any but 
a kind of Jolly Roger place in society, and 

lived entirely for the Elizabethan splen- 
dors of life: women, horses, hounds, duels, 
feasts and castles, irrespective of the ob- 
ligations entailed in obtaining them. There 
is a story of a beautiful masked woman on 
a spirited horse who galloped up on moon- 
light nights to visit him in his Florentine 
villa and who turned out to be the poet 
himself doing a little publicity. Yet it is a 
serious fact to remember that the Eliza- 
bethans of today are the Fascists of to- 
morrow, and from the ranks of romantic 
and fearless adventurers are drawn the 
Roehms, the storm-troopers, the arditiy 
the black-and-tans. 

But what a life! At seventeen a 'mar- 
velous boy' with a face like a medieval 
angel and the literary world at his feet. 
Then a social success, a Byronian lady- 
killer; then a great popular author, the 
lover of Duse, internationally famous and 
also a lion in the small exclusive pre- War 
society of Paris, London and Rome. Then 
a vital single force in persuading Italy to 
join the Allies, and, in the war that fol- 
lowed, his country's greatest hero! After 
that a few months of absolute power, as 
poet- king of his tiny city state, and finally 
honored retirement with a lovely lake 
property and a pet cruiser. 

Mr. Griflin has written an extremely 
outspoken and interesting book about 
him. Seldom are the living so stripped for 
examination! The book suflFers from its 
arrangement according to different phases 
of the poet's activity, which occasions a 
certain amount of overlapping and repeti- 
tion, and from the author's lapses into 
journalese. But it is a vigorous and topical 
piece of writing. 

Mr. Griffin has fully grasped that his 
subject is more and less than a man and 
enabled the reader to realize this. D'An- 
nunzio, with his rhetoric, his violence, his 
Nietzschean opportunism and his strange 
mystical belief in acts of personal bravery, 
above all with his fantastic patriotism, is 
the embodiment of the warlike side of 
Fascism, and as such is, unfortunately, 
more interesting now than ever. 




Deutschland und Frankreich. By An- 
dre Germain. Berlin: Deutscher Verlag 
fiir Politik und Wirtschajt. igjS- 

(From the Berliner Tageblatty Berlin) 

npHIS little book with the Swastika and 
the Tricolor on the binding was written 
in German by the Frenchman Andre Ger- 
main. Thus it is addressed directly to us 
Germans, and it is precisely for this reason 
that it ought to bear a sort of druggist's 
label: Use with Care. 

Germain's sincerity in promoting an 
understanding between the two neighbor- 
ing nations has in the twenty post- War 
years been proved too often to be doubted. 
And today less than ever, for at a very 
early period Germain tried to arrive at an 
understanding of National Socialism. 
This is shown by his book, Hitler ou Mos- 
coUy which appeared in 1931. Germain is 
today a convinced advocate and admirer 
of the Third Reich. 

But the method which Mr. Germain 
uses in this book seems dubious to us. 
The representatives of France, those of 
yesterday and those of today, fare badly. 
For example, the author not only rejects 
Poincare's policy, which led to the occupa- 
tion of the Ruhr, but Poincare himself is 
analyzed and is shown to us Germans as 
'basically stupid, insignificant and easily 
influenced.' Other Frenchmen, among 
them Briand, are treated similarly. 

Mr. Germain's language toward the 
France of today is so intemperately sharp 
that one feels it would be more appropri- 
ate in a French party paper. Even Mr. 
Germain is of the opinion that the basis 
for understanding is sincerity and mutual 
esteem. This would rule out any interfer- 
ence in the internal affairs of the other 
country. Certainly we follow with the 
greatest interest the development of our 
neighbor to the west but that is not yet 
tantamount to complete understanding, 
which is possible only on the basis of 
realities. Mr. Germain apparently wishes 
to emphasize the basic world-view. He 
shows us a France so incurably corrupted 

by parliamentarism, freemasonry, crooked 
capitalists and friends of the Soviet that, 
as he assures us, there is bound to be 
revolution sooner or later. He would like 
to see the Rightist organizations win when 
the crisis comes. Let us wait and see! 

Le Sang Noir. By Louis Guilloux. Paris: 
Nouvelle Revue Frangaise. igjS- 
(Andr6 Malraux in Marianne, Paris) 

T DO NOT believe in criticism by au- 
thors. They have no business to speak 
of more than a very few books; and if they 
do even this, they do it out of love or 
spite, to defend their values, or to expound 
in a more or less specialized review some 
ingenious idea born of their reading. The 
professional critic, being a member of a 
definite profession, approaches a book as 
one of the many which it is his task to 
discuss; not so a novelist. He ought to 
understand the true nature of his task: 
which is to make other people love what 
he himself loves. As I did once before for 
Lawrence and for Faulkner when they 
were almost unknown in France, so I do 
now when I say that I like a book and ex- 
plain why I like it. 

It is a book that has its faults. Some of 
them are those of Faulkner. But it is suffi- 
cient to read the judgments of their con- 
temporaries delivered on the greatest 
writers to understand the unimportance of 
such objections, even if well founded, in 
the field of art. Talent is not a result of 
balance. A book does not live (does not 
even live longer) because it is better than 
another. It either lives or it dies: art does 
not know a negative domain. 

A little town with a wan sea not far 
from it and everything that the word 
* province ' suggests of walls silently decay- 
ing in the mists; the local intellectuals, the 
vague professors or amateurs who permit 
the decomposition of what little human 
dignity they are still derisively charged 
with maintaining. The war in which the 
whole country is plunged is reflected here 
only by the most servile approbation, by 




the gesture of the professor who addresses 
to his pupils a little moral discourse, show- 
ing them his dead son's sabre and that of 
the mayor who in his matinal rounds as a 
milkman announces the deaths from door 
to door, and conceals the execution of a 
mutinied soldier. As soon as night falls, 
there emerge from their holes the vermin, 
those who have escaped even the idea of 
that patient agony which has penetrated 
beyond the twilight to the farthest ex- 
tremities of Europe: the hunchback with 
the yellow dog and all her train, who are 
beyond even consciousness of death. 

And yet it is death, sudden or slow, be it 
the sudden death that overtakes the 
soldiers or the slow agony of Merlin, alias 
Cripure, who, absorbed in it as if in his 
past revolt, sprawls on the cushions of a 
dusty, bloody carriage that, escorted by 
two motorcycle policemen, takes him to a 
hospital it is death that is the principal 
character oi Black Blood. It is death which 
draws its disorderly episodes into a kind of 
stifling unity. It is death which sooner or 
later confronts every one of its characters. 
Death permits him to whisper through- 
out the book that groping truth of the 
blind, at once indignant and desperate: 
'men are not as great as their sorrow, 
men are not worthy of their death.' 

The book seems like the negative print 
of an heroic fresco. It is an appeal to hu- 
manity worthy of its death. A certain 
complacence about the inevitable defeat 
adds to the confusion: the pity here is not 
without an admixture of hatred even to- 
ward the least impure of the characters; 
by describing them Guilloux wreaks re- 
venge on his characters for being what 
they are. Yet it seems to me impossible to 
understand Black Blood if one does not see 
it primarily as an appeal. A fifteenth cen- 
tury poem describes the macabre dance 
around the averted figures of three im- 
mobile divinities. Love, Fortune and 
Death. Centuries after all three suddenly 
turn and the haggard dancers discover 
with terror that their gods are blind. 
Black Blood is a dance of the dead who 

want to force their gods to turn to them 
and open their closed eyes so that they 
may at last display human faces the 
only one of their manifold aspects that 
could set the dead free. 

For this book evinces the eternal grudge 
against reality of a poet whom the very 
nature of his talent compels to express 
himself not through lyricism but through 
this same reality. Flaubert (one sometimes 
recalls his universe in speaking of Black 
Blood) felt that rancor keenly; he hated in 
so many of his characters their indiffer- 
ence or disdain of art, which he himself 
considered a divine state. It is not the lack 
of art which is evinced by the shadows of 
this book in every one of their gestures; it 
is the lack of dignity born of the conscious- 
ness of sorrow; and that is why the lower 
these men sink the more socially-minded 
they become: for the greatest destroyer of 
men in men is the social ritual. 

In this unwearying struggle of con- 
formism and sorrow, in these discourses 
and preparations for the festivities during 
which the deputy's wife is to be decorated, 
in this entire atmosphere of parrots in a 
cemetery, we see the constantly recurring 
encounter of the grotesque and the tragic 
saved from the artistic dangers that al- 
ways beset such an encounter by the au- 
thor's rare feeling for what is right. The 
admirable scenes between Cripure and 
Maia, the scene where Cripure is so ab- 
sorbed in his sadness that he does not see 
the dogs wrecking his masterpiece 
scenes like these show us again how badly 
put are the problems of realism, to what 
extent the will to express in- western Eu- 
rope has taken the place of actual descrip- 
tion. The characters are described by the 
facts, but through so well defined a pas- 
sion that a discussion of this book from a 
realistic point of view becomes as unrea- 
sonable as a demand that Madrid should 
resemble Goya's Caprices. With the ex- 
ception of one character who appears in 
the book but does nothing, all the beings 
with whom Guilloux is dealing, those to- 
ward whom he is hostile, as well as those 




who are close to his heart, give the impres- 
sion of being seen in a kind of phosphores- 
cent light, which they themselves emanate. 
Each one lives by his own folly and the 
sum of all these follies is the obsession of 
the author, that perpetual encounter of a 
man with his sufferings of which I have 
spoken before. Hence, a premeditated de- 
liberate illusion strong enough to impose 
its reality upon us in spite of an occasional 
excessive retardation of movement; this 
constantly produces the impression that 
here is a man speaking the truth, that 
this man could not do otherwise than 
write the book he has written. At present, 
this man is doubtless marching along the 
well-scoured streets of a small town full of 
failures, finding in each the traces of the 
color that he had once himself imparted to 
all of them, knowing hatred and his ob- 
scure hope that they can still be saved 

Of how many books could one say that 
they were indispensable to the man who 
wrote them ? The greatest art of all is to 
take the chaos which is the world and to 
transform it into consciousness, to let 
men control their destiny: such writers are 
Tolstoi or Stendhal; but the next best 
kind is the ability to take our own chaos 
and to stamp it with our own mark, to 
create men of shadows and to save what- 
ever can still be saved of the most miser- 
able lives by enveloping them in elements 
of greatness which they themselves do not 
even guess they possess. 

Art in the U. S. S. R. London: The 
Studio, igss- 

(Herbert Read in the Listener^ London) 

'TPHIS book is likely to be more embar- 
rassing to the friends of Soviet Russia 
than to its enemies. It consists of a series 
of articles by Russian writers whose 
authority cannot be questioned the pres- 
ident of the All-Union Society for Cultural 
Relations with Foreign Countries, the 
secretary of the Society of Soviet Archi- 
tects, the director of the Museum of 

Modern Western Art, the director of the 
Institute of Handicraft Industry; and the 
character of the art illustrated in the 
many excellent plates in color and black- 
and-white is amply confirmed by the pro- 
nouncements of these officials. Tendencies 
which for some time have been apparent 
in the examples of painting and sculpture 
which have been seen in this country are 
now revealed as predominant in all the 
arts and, if not enforced, at least en- 
couraged to the exclusion of other tenden- 

These tendencies are in no normal sense 
revolutionary; they are, in fact, definitely 
reactionary. President Arosev, in his in- 
troduction to the volume, calls them 'the 
critical assimilation of the art of past cen- 
turies ' and ' the method of socialist real- 
ism.' Though they are equally evident in 
all the arts, the development of the first 
tendency is most obvious in architecture; 
that of the second in painting and sculp- 

Immediately after the Revolution, the 
Soviets adopted for their immense recon- 
structive plans the so-called international 
or functionalist style of architecture, as- 
sociated with the name of Gropius in 
Germany and of Le Corbusier in France. 
For a time all went well, and some fine 
buildings, few of which are illustrated, 
were constructed. But, says Professor 
Arkin in this volume, 'the methods of 
"functional architecture" could satisfy 
the requirements of Soviet society only 
during the first period of construction 
when it was necessary to meet the most 
vital and urgent needs in regard to new 
buildings and residences. At that time it 
was permissible to rest content with the 
simplest, the most economical architec- 
tural solutions, preferring no particularly 
high claims in regard to the artistic, plas- 
tic quality of architecture.' 

Then, toward the end of the first Five- 
year-Plan period, came a radical change in 
the situation. The principles of 'function- 
alism,' we are told, were subjected to a 
thorough criticism, and it was discovered 




that the new architecture 'entirely ig- 
nored ' such questions as ' the artistic effect 
and the artistic content* of architecture. 
It was agreed, therefore, that Soviet archi- 
tecture 'should not only create technically 
most advanced and economical structures 
but that it should also fill these structures 
with great artistic content concordant 
with the great historic epoch in which we 
are living.' But such a content, appar- 
ently, could not be created by the epoch in 
question, so it was decided ' to make criti- 
cal use of the best that has been created by 
world architecture in the past.* The 'or- 
ders ' were restored to the prestige they had 
enjoyed under a capitalist regime; Corin- 
thian capitals. Renaissance coffered ceil- 
ings, Egyptian lamps all the eclectic 
bric-h-brac of the nineteenth century 
were lavished on that triumph of Soviet 
architecture, the Moscow Underground 

There is only space for two observations 
of this metamorphosis: it is based on a 
complete misunderstanding of ' functional ' 
architecture, which, far from being *a 
negation of architecture as an art,* is a 
reaffirmation of the only principles by 
virtue of which architecture ever became 
an art; secondly, the notion of filling archi- 
tecture with a content is the pathetic fal- 
lacy which has been so often and so com- 
pletely exposed during the last hundred 
years. Architecture is its own content; its 
form is an expression of harmony in spatial 
relationships, and to add any other ' artis- 
tic content* is merely to gild the lily. 

Soviet painting is described by A. Bas- 
sekhes, and again the two general tenden- 
cies are affirmed. Soviet artists, we are 
told, 'now recognize the priceless value 
of the art legacy possessed by mankind* 
and tend 'least of all toward the uncritical 
breaking with the past.' But the past is the 
somewhat immediate past of the nine- 
teenth century, for their trend is 'toward 
the depiction of definite subjects, towards 
realism.* The illustrations show paintings 
indistinguishable from the bourgeois can- 
vases which fill the official academies of 

every capitalist country in Europe; and 
the same is true of the sculpture. 

Russia has no strong tradition in the 
plastic arts, and since a tradition in art 
cannot be created in a day, even a day of 
revolution, it would be a mistake to ex- 
pect the emergence of any number of 
great original painters and sculptors in 
that country. But it is not the quality of 
the art that is in question; it is its kind. 
There is every evidence in these pages, if 
nowhere else, that what Mr. Bassekhes 
calls 'the banner of realism' is a deliber- 
ately enforced doctrine in the artistic life 
of the Soviet. If we seek for an explana- 
tion, we shall find it not so much in the 
natural desire to portray the new life and 
achievements of the Soviets (that can be 
done more efficiently by photography and 
the cinema) but in the fallacy that art 
must be popular. When a nation deliber- 
ately attempts to make its art popular, it 
only succeeds in making it vulgar. The 
great artist is inevitably egregious, ec- 
centric, difficult to understand; it is his 
function in the dialectical process of his- 
tory, for there can be no cultural develop- 
ment without a leavening of the masses by 
a ferment which is strange to them. 

Art is something more than information, 
passive enjoyment, reflection of reality; it 
is interpretation, exploration, transforma- 
tion of reality. We can say without any 
bias, bourgeois or intellectual, that never, 
in the whole history of art, has ' realism ' 
been the predominant characteristic of 
great art; the only periods in which it has 
emerged as a style are the most decadent 
periods of Egyptian, Greeks and Roman 
art and during the nineteenth century in 

There is, of course, a sound psychologi- 
cal reason for this rule. The world of ap- 
pearances is known to be transient and 
impermanent; but art is order and har- 
mony. Art and 'reality,* in the Marxian 
phraseology, are dialectical opposites. 
The artist therefore seeks for stable 
forms beneath the fluctuating phenomena 
of nature, and the only question is the 




degree of stability or abstraction to 
which he shall reduce these forms. That 
degree depends on historical circumstances 
and may vary from the complete abstrac- 
tion of 'pure form' to a formal enhance- 
ment of natural features. But never, if art 
is worthy of the name, is it a mere tran- 
script of reality, *a realistic portrayal of 
life and nature.' 

There is one more significant aspect of 
the present situation which is worth notic- 
ing. Soviet Russia is not alone in raising 
'the banner of realism.' At the moment 
there is being held in Dresden an exhibi- 
tion under the title Schreckenskammer der 
Kunsi, or ' Chamber of Horrors of Art,' in 
which examples of modern art purchased 
by German museums and galleries before 
1933 are held up to ridicule. The exhibition 
has been visited by Herr Hitler and Gen- 
eral Goring and has been a great success. 
As an adjunct to the exhibition there is a 
room devoted to paintings acquired since 
1933 'the expression of a new epoch.' 
These pictures are identical in type with 
the pictures now being produced in Soviet 
Russia. We have the paradox, therefore, of 
two nations diametrically opposed in all 
their social and political ideology but 
united on this question of art. The reason 
for such a paradox is surely not far to 
seek: for both countries, in their imme- 
diate policies if not in their ultimate ideals, 
have exalted force above reason, dogma 
above toleration, discipline above discrimi- 
nation. Art, in such an atmosphere, can 
only abdicate. 

Recollections of a Picture Dealer. 
By Ambrose Vollard. Translated from the 
original French manuscript by Violet M. 
Macdonald. London: Constable. 1936. 

(From the Times Literary Supplement, London) 

"\^I/'HEN an outsider wins the Derby it 
will certainly have had a much greater 
number of backers than all the modern 
French painters who eventually won at 
very much longer odds than any possible 
horse. It is reasonable to suppose that 

some skill was needed to find the winner, 
but one turns in vain to Mr. Vollard's 
memoirs if one hopes to learn his secret 
and the precise nature of his acumen. The 
most obvious explanation is that he had 
an altogether exceptional sensibility, but 
when he began to make his purchases, 
there appear to have been so many ob- 
stacles to the appreciation of painters 
like Renoir or Cezanne, that even the 
most highly trained sensibility might have 
gone astray. Only a few of the most emi- 
nent painters had an unprejudiced vision, 
and even they could not always be 
trusted. Manet and Renoir, as Mr. Vol- 
lard tells us, once painted pictures of 
Monet's family at the same time, and at 
the end of the sitting Manet drew Monet 
aside. 'You're on very good terms with 
Renoir,' he said, 'and take an interest in 
his career do advise him to give up 
painting! You can see for yourself that 
it's not at all his job.' After this one may 
be excused for wondering how and why 
Mr. Vollard made so many coups. 

As one might expect, even Mr. Vollard 
had some prejudices: it took him some 
time to like the pointillists, and, he very 
frankly says, he failed to back Modigliani 
before the odds had shortened. He tells 
us very little about how he escaped the 
almost universal prejudice against the im- 
pressionists and the earlier post-impres- 
sionists. He began as an assistant in a gal- 
lery which sold tedious paintings and even 
pictures of cattle. After selling an occa- 
sional impressionist there, under the dis- 
approving eyes of his employer, 'Life in 
these surroundings,' he says, 'was begin- 
ning to be more than irksome,' and we 
next find him on his own and dealing in 
'Forains, Guys, Rops, Steinlens, every- 
thing, in fact, that passed at that time for 
advanced art.' One may perhaps suspect 
that Mr. Vollard was himself ' advanced ' 
by nature, that he was temperamentally 
inclined to belong to a minority and to be- 
lieve that almost everyone is likely to be 
wrong. It is an unusual frame of mind in a 
merchant and in a man whose business it 




is to supply a demand, but what he calls 
'the golden age for collectors' happened 
to be a time when almost everyone was 

But Mr. Vollard's memoirs are not for 
the most part about himself. After a brief 
account of his early years and some enter- 
taining chapters on the eccentricities of 
collectors, he proceeds to the most impor- 
tant part of the book, his reminiscences of 
artists and reports of their conversation. 
He gives at some length what he learnt 
from the painter, Mr. Charles Toche, of 
Manet's visit to Venice, a period in his 
life about which, as it appears, not much 
has hitherto been known. Manet's Vene- 
tian pictures look as if they had been 
quickly and easily painted, and they sug- 
gest, as Mr. VoUard remarks, 'brush- 
strokes put down definitely once for all.' 
In fact they almost resemble, though 
quite superficially, the watercolors of 
Sargent. But Mr. Toche saw Manet 

'I discovered how he labored ... to 
obtain what he wanted. The Pieux du 
Grand Canal itself was begun I know not 
how many times. The gondola and gon- 
dolier held him up an incredible time. 
"It's the devil," he said, "to suggest that 
a hat is stuck firmly on a head, or that a 
boat is built of planks cut and fitted ac- 
cording to geometrical laws."* 

And he wrote down Manet's description 
of how he would paint a complicated 
scene of a regatta on the lagoon of Mestre, 
'an incomparable lesson' as Mr. Toche 
described it, in the construction of a pic- 
ture. The description ends with the im- 
pressive words, 'The picture must be 
light and direct. No tricks; and you will 
pray the God of good and honest painters 
to come to your aid.' 

Manet was evidently one of those many 
painters who admire the works of others 
for what they can get from them. Inevi- 
tably he thought more of the Spanish 
school than of the Italians: 'These Italians 
bore one after a time with their allegories 
and their Gerusalemme Liberata and Or- 

lando FuriosOy and all that noisy rubbish. 
A painter can say all he wants to with 
fruits or flowers, or even clouds.' 

It is an imposing prejudice, and very 
characteristic of almost every French 
painter as Mr. VoUard likes to represent 
them, models of sobriety whose middle- 
class virtues and common sense are 
paraded even in their art. 

But it is only the good painters who 
possess these virtues, and their presence 
or absence makes it easy to perceive Mr. 
Vollard's preferences in a book which 
otherwise is commendably and deliber- 
ately free from the judgments and in- 
tricacies of art criticism. Once again, as in 
his earlier books, Rodin's exuberant ro- 
manticism is put forward as a contrast to 
the modesty of the true artist. He reports 
a meeting of Rodin's admirers in his 
studio. The master is made to dwell on the 
titles of his works, to which Mr. Vollard's 
favorite painters are quite indiflferent. 

'I can't find what I want today . . . 
or rather, too many titles occur to me at 
once. "Hope of the Morning," "Starry 
Night," "A Day Will Come," "Reverie 
..." I must allow time for my thoughts 
to clear. It was in a nightmare that I hit 
on my best title: "The Kiss."' 

His vanity appears to have been over- 
whelming. 'Positively,' he said, *I have 
only to go and smoke my pipe before a 
block of marble that one of my pointers is 
at work on, and it is as though I myself 
held the chisel.' Mr. Vollard described to 
Renoir how he had seen Rodin surrounded 
by pupils enlarging the master's work 
while he stroked his beard. ',That reminds 
me,' Renoir answered, 'of an engraving in 
a Lives of the Artists of Antiquity ^ showing 
stonemasons busy in a workshop, while on 
a couch reclined a man crowned with 
roses. He was the sculptor.' It must be 
admitted that Mr. Vollard's reports of 
Rodin's conversation diflPer greatly from 
other reports of his often excellent criti- 
cism by more sympathetic listeners. 

On Cezanne, Renoir and Degas Mr. 
Vollard has not much to tell that has not 




already appeared in his brief Lives of these 
painters; but there are many reminis- 
cences of other artists, and here again the 
bad painters are treated with very little 
mercy. Meissonier is shown painting from 
a model landscape with figures arranged 
by one of his pupils and covered with a 
white powder to represent snow: 

' When I painted my Retreat from Russia 
instead of boracic acid I used caster sugar. 
What an effect of snow I obtained ! But 
it attracted the bees from a neighboring 
hive. So I replaced the sugar by flour. And 
then the mice came and ravaged my battle- 
field, and I had to finish my picture from 
imagination. It almost looked as though 
I should have to wait for the snow to fall 
if I wanted to paint a winter landscape.' 

But when Degas painted horses from 
wooden models and landscapes with 
scarcely a glance at nature, this is made to 
appear by the most minute adjustments 
in the tone of the conversation as the rea- 
sonable economy of an artist intent only 
on the essentials of his art. 

There is some account of Maillol, Whis- 
tler, Odilon Redon, a little about Gauguin 
and Monet, and some pleasing descrip- 
tions of the 'Douanier' Rousseau. Mr. 
VoUard, it is interesting to learn, 'often 
wondered if that simple, not to say slightly 
bewildered, air that struck one in pere 

Rousseau was not a mask behind which he 
concealed himself, and whether at bottom 
he was not a sly dog.' He also describes 
Rousseau's trial, when his simplicity led 
him to be suspected of forgery, and his ad- 
vocate showed the magistrates one of his 
pictures. 'Can you still doubt,' he asked, 
'that my client is an "innocent?"' and he 
was acquitted. Of later painters, such as 
Matisse, Picasso and Rouault, he has 
some slight and amusing anecdotes. 

In everything that he writes, in his de- 
scriptions of Paris at the beginning of the 
War, of sitting to several painters, of his 
work as a publisher, of his difiiculties in 
buying a country house, of the pigeons in 
Clemenceau's garden and of the intricacies 
of bureaucracy, Mr. Vollard has an agree- 
able air of mock simplicity, a malicious 
and individual wit, and his memoirs as a 
whole make an excellent sketch of a fas- 
cinating period in the history of art. The 
English translation, which appears to be 
adequate though sometimes carelessly 
written, has appeared before any French 
edition of the book, and it is illustrated 
with a number of remarkable pictures, in- 
cluding a most curious work painted by 
Cezanne at the age of eighteen, and a 
number of engravings by various modern 
artists made to illustrate books published 
by Mr. Vollard. 


The Chinese Art 

i\T the turn of the century polite 
drawing rooms everywhere from Mayfair 
to Fifth Avenue were cluttered with 
Chinese furniture, vases, ol>jefs d'art. It 
was a vogue that might have been traced 
back to Edmond de Goncourt and the 
passion he had for the art of the Far East. 
But it was also true that Peiping had 
recently been seized and pillaged. With 
the alarming cry that all Christendom 
was in danger, the associated powers had 
succeeded in occupying the Forbidden 
City, and the world was once more saved. 
It was a gesture nicely timed. For not 
only was China preserved for the several 
trading nations; so also were vast quan- 
tities of its artistic riches. At the same 
time that order was being reestablished 
in Peiping, its shops and palaces were 
being plundered of things which, a short 
time later, found their way into the art 
marts of the West. 

And from the art marts into the draw- 
ing rooms of polite society. But drawing 
rooms, like everything else, follow the 
turn of events. As cheap imitations began 
to flood the market the vogue for things 
Chinese ripened and petered out. A por- 
celain Buddha or a red lacquered table 
were not, in fact, quite proper any longer; 
and by the outbreak of the War were to 
be seen nowhere outside of the museums. 
But the irony of the business is that when 
their places had been filled by other ob- 
jects, their memory became cloyed by 
a slightly bad,7? ^^ siec/e taste. 

This is not to suggest, obviously, that 
there was anything inherently in bad 
taste about the art of China. The truth of 
the matter is that it was a poor bedfellow: 
all efforts to domesticate it failed. It was 
not primitive, in which case it could not 
affect its environment. Nor was it ex- 

clusively decorative, in which case it 
might conceivably condition the quality 
of its environment. On the contrary it 
was definite, positive and complete. So 
much did it command individual atten- 
tion, in fact, that even among the hetero- 
geneous hodge-podge of the late Victorian 
drawing room where practically any- 
thing and everything else was in order 
it struck a jarring, discordant note. 

But it is not my intention here to plead 
the case for Chinese art. On the contrary 
it is a question now, some forty years 
later, of going back to that late Victorian 
memory, isolating it from the hideousness 
of its Occidental associations, then reval- 
uating and restoring it to its true quality. 
In this frame of mind there will be no 
wholesale pillage, nor, for that matter, 
frivolity of vogue: a contrite and reformed 
world will see to that. Instead an English- 
man by the name of Sir Percival David, a 
scholar and not a soldier, will persuade 
the Chinese Government to lend many of 
their finest national treasures for an exhi- 
bition to be held in London. Soon he 
himself will journey to China, supervise 
the consignments and see that they are 
carefully packed and safely loaded on a 
British warship for the voyage westward. 
Later he will scour the collections of 
Europe and America for masterpieces and 
examples of Chinese art. 

The result is the International Exhibi- 
tion of Chinese Art, which -opened the 
first of this year at Burlington House in 
London. Such an exhibition seemed 
inevitable. In the first place the misap- 
prehensions concerning Chinese art, al- 
luded to above, had become so general 
that it was imperative to present a tab- 
leau of this art in all its phases as a con- 
sistent and logical development over a 
span of forty centuries. But it was also 
necessary to do this, not relatively to 
Western art (which heretofore had been 



the great pitfall), but in terms alone of 
Chinese art. Or, as Eric Newton says in 
his impressions of the show in the Man- 
chester Guardian: 'We in Europe are 
accustomed to the clash of rival theories 
classic versus romantic, classic versus 
baroque, realistic versus impressionistic, 
representational versus abstract. These 
petty wrangles would doubtless mean less 
than nothing to the Chinese artist who 
from time immemorial has based his 
whole endeavor on the expression of that 
"rhythmic vitality" which is the first of 
Hsieh Ho's (six) canons and who has 
refined and perfected his technical skill 
for the attainment of that end alone.' 

Again, it was necessary to correlate all 
the arts and crafts of China within the 
matrix of one national tradition. I say 
arts and crafts, since with the Chinese 
there has never been a distinct profes- 
sional dichotomy between the two prov- 
inces as there has been in the West. 
Bronzes, pottery, sculpture, porcelain, 
metal work, painting, lacquer, enamel, 
calligraphy each and all are manifesta- 
tions of the same impulse, namely, to 
achieve through concentration and man- 
ual skill the illusion of spontaneous 
expression. One may, of course, object 
that such an intention fails to take into 
consideration the purely functional pur- 
poses of, say, a piece of pottery or a screen. 
The answer is that the Chinese artist is 
simply embroidering the forms that have 
been given him, and doing so within the 
definitely prescribed limits of a vocabu- 
lary. Just as a Western artist, in seeking 
to achieve a more beautiful lettering, 
would never go beyond recognition of the 
alphabet, so the Chinese artist never does 
more than rearrange an already created 

ALL seem agreed that Mr. Leigh Ashton, 
of the Victoria and Albert Museum, has 
proven himself a great authority on 
Chinese art in his handling of the present 
exhibition. Realizing that the transition 
from the streets of London into the realms 

of 'Tang,' 'Sung,' or 'Ming' in order to 
be fair must not be overly abrupt, he has 
seen to it that the visitor's mood is first 
appropriately conditioned. As the critic 
of the 'Times writes: 'Certain special ef- 
fects of display must be noted. The first is 
that of the colossal marble Standing Figure 
of Maitreya Buddha^ about twenty-two 
feet high, which comes into view of the 
visitor, from the head downwards, as he 
ascends the stairs. With its subtle smile 
and outstretched handless arms, it not 
only extends the welcome of China but 
suggests the right mood for the exhibi- 
tion.' As for the disposition of the exhibi- 
tion, he says further: 'The arrangement is 
by periods, or dynasties, in chronological 
order, all the productions of each period 
bronzes, jades, paintings, sculptures, ce- 
ramics and textiles being grouped to- 
gether, so that the distinctive flavor of 
each dynasty is brought out.' 

Amid the general enthusiasm which 
has greeted the show it may be worth 
while to point out several aspects in 
which it appears to excel. In examples of 
Chinese painting, for instance, it seems to 
be especially strong. Again hear Mr. 
Newton: 'Here are hundreds of paintings, 
each repaying the closest scrutiny, each 
expressing a new mood and finding a new 
means of expression. Pale birds drawn 
feather by feather, rocky landscapes 
"slashed in" in half-inch-thick lines, 
mountain scenes emerging from mist with 
an infinity of detail, bridges, lakes, boats 
and little houses. One of the most famous 
of the scroll paintings is the forty-foot- 
long painting of the Myriad Miles of the 
Yangtze by Hsia Kuei, in which every 
mood of the great river is described in 
vivid calligraphy. . . . But perhaps the 
most amazing tour de force ^ both in sub- 
tlety of composition and technical mas- 
tery, is Ma Fen's The Hundred Geese. The 
use of graded depths of the ink to suggest 
distance, the freedom of the brushstrokes, 
the sinuous lines of flying birds wheeling 
and turning and swooping, each one a 
miracle of observation and each fitting 



into the main phrase of the composition 
as notes fit into a melody all this has to 
be seen to be believed.' 

The collection of bronzes, beginning 
with examples from the remote Shang and 
Chou dynasties (i8th to yth centuries 
B.C.), seems likewise very noteworthy. 
As Simon Harcourt-Smith reports in the 
Sunday Observer: 'The most eminent 
bronzes at Burlington House date from 
before the end of the period known as the 
Spring and Autumn Annals (c. 500 B.C.), 
before the ceremonial and archaistic sig- 
nificance had grown paramount. Within 
the frame of a convention already antique 
the bronze-smiths of that remote age 
contrived an infinity of subtle variations 
in form and ornament; inlay of all kinds 
was pressed into service . . . Over a 
butcher's chopping table from Shou Hsien 
in Anhui Province, which once steamed 
with offal, sinologists now incline in knots 
of ecstasy; out of a kuei that mutton broth 
once bubbled in there comes an echo of 
the strange elegance which walked hand 
in glove with gangsterism in that violent 
age of Chinese history.' 

Perhaps as much could be said for the 
jades, over which those qualified to judge 
have been lavish in their praise. And so on 
continuing, in fact, until the whole vast 
display might be covered. For nothing, 
apparently, has been omitted to make 
this show the most comprehensive of its 
kind ever held, at least in the Western 

Paul Schofield 

The Salon d'Automne 

IHERE was a time when the Salon d'Au- 
tomne, in contradistinction to the Salon 
de Printemps, was animated by a great 
ideal, a great purpose, a great mission. 
Under Frantz Jourdain, who inaugurated 
it thirty-five years ago, this vast annual 
array in the Grand Palais in Paris was 
intended to air the talents of ' les jeunes,' 
and through them the merits of the ' new 
painting.' But now a third of a century 

has passed; the new painting has become 
catalogued, accepted, even classic; and 
'lesjeunes' are all old men. 

Still the Salon d'Automne persists, and 
this year it was the bright idea of M. 
Barat-Levraux, the present director, to 
arrange the paintings by generations, that 
is, by the age of their respective authors. 
It seems, however, that this ingenious 
plan miscarried possibly owing to ob- 
jections by ' les anciens.' At any event a 
compromise was effected, whereby the 
old hats have all been grouped in one 
wing of the gallery and the young bloods 
in the opposite. This arrangement is 
what the critic of Z^ Temps called 'tout de 
logique^ which should be enough to con- 
vince any Frenchman in the street. 

As for the work itself, it appears to bear 
out the proposition that post-impression- 
ism is a period gloriously finished. In the 
old wing color, composition and form, 
considered as ends in themselves, predom- 
inate. In the young wing, on the other 
hand, it seems that 'les gosses' have set 
about painting (of all things!) the French 
scene. Nothing stuffy, nothing ancient, 
here. Indeed, such right-up-to-the-minute 
freshness as a canvas entitled Pilote, 
which depicts the arrival of an aviator at 
an airport; or such a contemporary anec- 
dote as the Translation du Corps de Sa 
MajestS Alexandre de Tougoslavie, by one 
Camille Liausu. All painted, of course, 
with plenty of sentimental detail; never 
garish, but right and true and correct 
enough to preclude all ambiguity. 

It seems that a portrait of Frantz 
Jourdain by Albert BesnaFd greets the 
visitor as he enters the Grand Palais. 
And grouped around the old director, like 
guards of honor, hang canvases by Ce- 
zanne, Gauguin, Renoir and Redon. They 
are there, no doubt, to pay him homage. 
Also, they are there to return a favor 
which he once conferred on them. But I 
don't see how they can possibly be there 
to recommend what lies within a cross 
section of contemporary French painting. 

P. S. 


An Englishman Looks at the 


T IS perhaps a fitting reflection on 
the state of American politics that the 
European press greeted the Supreme 
Court's decision on the A. A. A. with 
far more concern than most of our 
own papers displayed. Men of all 
shades of opinion in all countries wrote 
in all languages that the decision 
clearly revealed the urgent necessity 
of amending the Federal Constitution. 
Of the many comments that were 
made, one of the most thoughtful was 
by the brilliant political economist of 
the University of London, Mr. Harold 
J. Laski. Writing in the Liberal Man- 
chester Guardian, Mr. Laski said: 

The decision of the Supreme Court in 
the recent Agricultural Processing Tax 
case may well be regarded a generation 
from now as its most momentous decision 
since the Dred Scott case, which, eighty 
years ago, precipitated the American 
Civil War. It is not merely that by a sur- 
prisingly narrow construction of the Con- 
stitution it has destroyed the most popular 
and the most successful part of the Roose- 
velt experiment. It is not merely, either, 
that, following upon the 'New Deal's' 
overthrow in the Schechter case last June, 
the decision has now laid its foundations 
in ruins. 

It is even more important than these 
things, first, that it virtually withholds 
from the President and Congress the 
right, in the twentieth century, to in- 
tervene in the regulation of commerce 
and agriculture; and secondly, that it does 
so by a technique of constitutional inter- 
pretation which, behind the fagade of law, 
makes 'reasonableness' in legislation a 
matter settled not by the views of the 
President and the elected Legislature but 

by the private social philosophy of a 
majority of the Supreme Court. 

The decision is a staggering one less be- 
cause of the particular legislation it de- 
stroys than because, as Mr. Justice Stone 
pointed out in his remarkable dissenting 
opinion, of the grounds upon which that 
legislation is destroyed. The Schechter 
case laid it down that there shall be no 
Federal regulation of industrial condi- 
tions; this was held to be an invasion of 
the sovereignty of the States. The new 
decision adds thereto the fiat that the tax- 
ing power of Congress shall not be used to 
promote the general welfare of the Ameri- 
can people in any instance where the 
subject matter involved is vested in the 
States by the Constitution. Everyone 
knows that the States were powerless to 
deal effectively with the issues raised by 
the collapse of farm prices; the Supreme 
Court's answer is that if the States cannot 
deal with it, no one else can. Some fifty 
million farmers and their dependents are 
to suffer because the founders of the 
American Constitution could not foresee 
the kind of world in which we are now 

And it is impossible, given the canons of 
construction accepted by the Court, to set 
limits to the implications of the decision. 
In principle, at least, it seems to strike 
into impotence all Federal aid to educa- 
tion, to the unemployed, to vocational 
rehabilitation. It seems to attack the 
immense effort of the Reconstruction 
Finance Corporation, the Tennessee Val- 
ley experiment, the attempt to control the 
public utilities and the marketing of 
securities. Though it is a commonplace 
that none of these things can, under 
modern conditions, be undertaken ade- 
quately by the States, the Supreme Court 
says that rather than that they shall be 
undertaken by the Federal Government 
they shall not be undertaken at all. It is 
not going beyond the mark to say that, 




short of constitutional amendment, the 
Supreme Court has announced that the 
Constitution denies to the only authority 
which can effectively regulate the right to 
regulate effectively. 

On what grounds? On the ground, 
above all, that under the division of 
powers of 1787 the authority taken by 
Congress is an 'unreasonable' invasion of 
functions confided to the States. That 
word must be read in the context of an- 
other recent decision that a Federal 
statute ordering railroad companies to set 
up retiring pension schemes for their em- 
ployees was an 'unreasonable' violation of 
liberty of contract; was, therefore, a denial 
of due process of law. The Court's con- 
ception of 'reasonableness,' in a word, is 
built upon a social philosophy which 
Congress does not accept, which does not 
even commend itself to a significant 
minority (Brandeis, Cardozo and Stone) 
of its own members. 

It is a quarter of a century since Mr. 
Justice Holmes, the most distinguished 
member of the Court since Marshall, re- 
minded his brethren, over a similar issue, 
that 'the Fourteenth Amendment does 
not enact Mr. Herbert Spencer's "Social 
Statics." ' It is well over a century since 
Marshall himself urged the Court to 
realize that 'it is a Constitution we are 
expounding.' The success of the doctrine 
of judicial review depends wholly upon 
the willingness of the judges not to insist 
upon the substitution of their private view 
of what is wise social legislation for the 
view taken by the Federal or State Legis- 
latures, granted only that there is no 
obvious violation of the plain letter of the 
Constitution. It depends, also, upon the 
willingness of the judges so to form its 
spirit as continuously to adapt its working 
to the needs of new times. 

The decisions of the Court upon the 
Roosevelt experiment show, decisively, 
that it is willing to do neither of these 
things. It stands by a conception of prop- 
erty rights (as in the railroad pension case) 
which was not only obsolete forty years 

ago in this country but which the habits 
of the Court from 191 6 to 1933 had led 
one to hope was obsolete in the United 
States also. It stands by a conception of 
the division of functions between State 
and Federal government which leaves to 
the former obligations it cannot, in the 
nature of things, undertake, while it de- 
prives the latter of the right to afford the 
American people the aid expected from it. 
Its conception of property confers right 
without the duty of fulfilling the modern 
conception of the duty inherent in right; 
its conception of Federalism strikes into 
impotence the elementary powers re- 
quired by any Government in a modern 

THE English student of the American 
situation can best, perhaps, appreciate 
the meaning of the Supreme Court's 
attitude if one says that, broadly speak- 
ing, it would have meant that the House 
of Lords would have declared unconstitu- 
tional pretty well the whole body of our 
social legislation since 1906 on the ground 
that they were matters which either fell to 
be dealt with by the local authorities or 
were so detrimental to the rights of prop- 
erty as to be beyond the powers of any 
Government. An Englishman would say 
that such an attitude is a plain violation of 
common sense. Yet it is, in effect, the 
stand the Supreme Court has taken. 

Over twenty years ago, in the Home 
Rule debates, Mr. Asquith (as he then 
was) was pressed to accept a Unionist 
amendment which sought to give to the 
judicial committee of the Privy Council 
powers over Irish legislation similar to 
those enjoyed by the American Supreme 
Court over the legislation of Congress and 
the State Legislatures. He bluntly refused 
on the ground that this would entrust a 
judicial body with a political discretion it 
could not hope to exercise without involv- 
ing itself in passionate controversy certain 
to impair the respect in which a judiciary 
should be held; and he pointed to Ameri- 
can experience as the justification of his 




refusal. Few observers will watch the 
present developments in the United 
States without a profound conviction that 
Mr. Asquith was right. 

The issues the Supreme Court has 
raised will not be settled in a day or a 
year. What has now come into view is the 
need for the ample revision of the founda- 
tions of the Constitution. It will not be 
easy to secure this revision. Behind the 
attitude of the Supreme Court are ranged 
State authorities traditionally jealous of 
their historic rights, business men who 
look with anger and dismay at the de- 
velopment of liberal legislation, an amend- 
ing process as difficult as any in the Con- 
stitutions of modern States. And behind 
these issues as formal problems of law 
there is a deeper conflict. It is the question 
of the objectives to which the American 
Commonwealth should be devoted. A po- 
litical democracy seeks, as the President 
has insisted, to use its power for the pro- 
motion of the interests of the common 
man. There stands in the way of that 
purpose a body of vested interests which 
live by an obsolete social philosophy in 
which the rights of property are placed 
before the claims of the common welfare. 
It is that obsolete social philosophy the 
Supreme Court seems determined to pro- 
tect. In doing so it brings into view those 
fundamental questions of the State the 
discussion of which, as Burke said, always 
takes a nation much farther than it is 
consciously willing to go. There will be 
grave and dramatic developments in the 
United States of the next decade. 

An American Vignette 

1 lERRE GIRARD, writing in the 
Journal de Geneve, contributes a series 
of his impressions of America. Here is 
a description of a mood he experienced 
while walking along Riverside Drive 
in New York City: 

For an hour and a half I have been walk- 
ing along this northern Riviera with its 
cliffs of brick and granite. These fortunate 
river dwellers are the only ones in all New 
York who can see the sky, the forests, the 
sea. Their houses rise on the border of the 
Island of Manhattan, on the top of a steep 
hill that overlooks the Hudson. The win- 
try wind makes the waters livid and stirs 
the New Jersey woods. In spite of the 
busses belching blue smoke into the chill 
air, there is a silence full of strangeness. 
It is the characteristic American silence. 
It fills your ears just like American 

Here on this boulevard where my 
solitary steps are echoed by the fagades 
of the buildings, while the wind wrinkles 
the water, I get a strange feeling of not 
belonging anywhere. I feel lost in time 
as well as in space. Nature here is so 
powerful, so ready to destroy man's works 
with one blow. One is seized here, as one 
never is in Europe, not even in the Alps, 
by a sort of planetary emotion. This prom- 
ontory, the waves, the red sun, are they a 
vision of the world before or after man's 
coming? Everything here is full of violence 
and of virtue the granite, the air, the 
ocean. The skyscrapers are not heavier 
upon this soil than the light wigwams of 
long ago. Suddenly I understand the 
secret of America. In the heart of this 
Manhattan, so swift and torrential, in the 
crowds compressed by streets too narrow 
for them, lurk the savages, flow the 
salubrious currents. In New York there 
are no trees, no flowers, no streams, and 
yet in it reigns the perpetual enchantment 
of the prairie. Europe, where for so long 
we have been treading on graves, where 
the cities are the vestiges of yesterday, 
where the decay of the ruins spreads to the 
structures built upon them this Europe 
does not know the rumbling and stirring 
of the unknown forces that one feels in 


Can We Be Neutral? 

Neutrality: its History, Economics and 
Law. Vol. I: The Origins. By Philip C. 
Jessup and Francis Dedk. New Tork: Colum- 
bia University Press. 1935. 294 pages. $3.75. 

Freedom of the Seas. By Earl Willis Cre- 
crajt. With an introduction by Edwin M. 
Borchard. New Tork: D. Appleton-Century 
Company. 1935. 304. pages. $3.00. 

The United States in World Affairs in 
1934-1935. By Whitney H. Shephardson in 
collaboration with William 0. Scroggs. New 
Tork: Harper and Brothers. 1935. 357 pages. 

American Neutrality, 1914-1917. By Charles 
Seymour. New Haven: Tale University Press. 
1935- 187 pages. $2.00. 

War Memoirs of Robert Lansing. Indian- 
apolis: The Bobbs-Merrill Company. 1935. 
383 pages. $3.50. 

Woodrow Wilson: Life and Letters. Vol. 
V: Neutrality, 1914-1915. By Ray Stan- 
nard Baker. Garden City: Doubleday, Doran 
and Company. 1931. 409 pages. $4.00. 

Can We Be Neutral? jS;' Allen W. Dulles and 
Hamilton Fish Armstrong. New Tork: 
Harper and Brothers. 1936. 191 pages. $1.50. 

npHE flood of books recently pouring from 
the presses of which these under review 
are merely a sample indicates that Americans 
are becoming seriously concerned over what is 
to be our role when the next world war breaks 
out. There is no question that by and large 
Americans are opposed to participation, and 
that relatively few are clearly conscious of the 
fact that war is an integral part of the capi- 
talist system. It may be said, therefore, that 
the current discussion is honest enough: that 
those who favor the passage of neutrality legis- 
lation, whether by strengthening the arm of 
Congress or that of the President, do so in the 
interests of the maintenance of peace. Only 
among the spokesmen for finance-capitalism is 
there any understanding that the United 
States may become involved in war, notably 
in the Far East, not because of the violation of 
our neutrality rights but to strengthen our fi- 
nancial and commercial position as an im- 
perialist power. 

The books examined here will help throw 
considerable light upon the backgrounds of the 
present debate. Neutrality: The Origins is the 
first of a projected four- volume series on the 
history, economics and law of the whole prob- 
lem of neutral rights and duties. Judged by the 
first volume, the complete work will constitute 
an invaluable contribution toward the under- 
standing of the economics and law of modern 

Very properly, Professors Jessup and Dedk 
commence the story with the rise of merchant 
capitalism: for hostility between states began 
to appear when the conflicting interests of 
commercial rivals clashed in the extending 
market. The story, here, is carried down to the 
middle of the eighteenth century; subsequent 
volumes will round out the narrative. It is in- 
teresting to note that as early as the era of 
merchant capitalism, the pattern of rivalry, 
war and the anomalous position of the neutral 
emerges. The historical record clearly indicates 
that neutrals have always sought to push out 
the horizons of their normal trade during peri- 
ods of war; hence the elaborate and heated dis- 
cussions about their rights, centering in the 
two questions of what constitutes a legal block- 
ade and what is contraband of war. 

Freedom of the SeaSy within much more mod- 
est limits, of course, is designed to answer the 
same question as that raised by the Columbia 
professors: what is the basis of current inter- 
national policy, historically considered? Pro- 
fessor Crecraft, however, is regarding the prob- 
lem entirely from the American viewpoint; his 
major emphasis is on the events of the past 
three decades; and he gives next to no consid- 
eration to the underlying economic factors. 
Nevertheless, the reader will nd here excel- 
lent summaries of the diplomatic questions 
currently being discussed: of blockades, con- 
traband, the r61es of the submarine and the 
airplane, consultation, sanctions, naval parity, 
and the like. Professor Crecraft gives no inkling 
of his own position concerning present Ameri- 
can policy, unless the typical and justified 
American distrust of European professions of 
peace, which runs through the whole book, 
may be interpreted as a plea for American iso- 

The work of Messrs. Shephardson and 



Scroggs is a useful compendium. The fourth of 
a series, it is in effect a running history of con- 
temporary American foreign relations derived 
for the most part from newspaper sources and 
such public documents as have been made 
available. The material is succinctly and in- 
telligently presented, and the book is well 
worth including in the library of all those who 
pretend to follow international affairs closely. 
The current volume contains, among others, 
chapters on American-Japanese relations, the 
naval discussions, the United States and the 
League, and the general question of American 
neutrality as it has been affected by the find- 
ings of the Nye Committee and the outbreak 
of the Ethiopian War. 

The next three volumes are of the first sig- 
nificance in that they indicate the position of 
the Executive in a critical situation; that is to 
say, in the preliminaries leading up to Ameri- 
can participation in the World War. Professor 
Seymour, in his volume of essays, shows that 
the disclosures of the Nye Committee investi- 
gation have left him unmoved. To Professor 
Seymour economic pressure is proved only if it 
is direct and overt: that is to say, only the im- 
mediate physical contact between the bankers 
and President Wilson, if it could be established, 
would convince him that our entry had other 
than reasons of honor behind it. This position 
leads him to interesting and contradictory 
conclusions: neutrality legislation is futile, for 
it never can be foretold exactly what the rea- 
sons for future wars will be; on the other hand, 
the price of peace may be too high in economic 

Professor Seymour's program is to leave the 
Executive's hands untied and to engage in 
cooperative activities with other States to pre- 
vent the recurrence of war. He speaks hopefully 
of eliminating * the basic causes of war, which 
can be attacked especially in the economic 
field;' and in the next breath concedes that 
there are certain instances in which capitalist 
nations must fight. His whole attitude is more 
than the traditional conservative one; it is, of 
course, ingenuous. Thus Senator Vandenberg 
has a much clearer understanding of historical 
causation than the professor. Senator Van- 
denberg, in commenting on the Nye Commit- 
tee testimony, said: 

*In my view we see a clear demonstration 
that the commercial factor is an inevitable and 
irresistible impulse in these war equations. 
That can be said objectively. It does not at- 

tach to any particular individuals ... it at- 
tached to our entire existence in our attitudes 

Professor Seymour seeks to defend Wilson 
against those persons who would charge him 
with having yielded to 'sinister forces' (mean- 
ing Wall Street) ; as though anybody has seri- 
ously argued that. But there were, neverthe- 
less, pressures constantly being applied on the 
President from among those who constituted 
his closest and most trusted advisers; such 
persons, notably, were Lansing, House, and 
McAdoo, not to speak of Page. These were 
Anglophiles and sought our involvement on 
the side of the Allies; day in and day out, the 
President was the center of their attack. T^he 
War Memoirs of Robert Lansing, in this sense, 
constitutes an amazing document: it is difficult 
to see how, as Counselor to the State Depart- 
ment and later as Secretary of State, he was 
other than recreant to his trust, which was the 
maintenance of American neutrality. Lansing 
was regarded by his chiefs as a faithful servant; 
therefore his prejudices could not but have 
poisoned the minds of those who were depend- 
ent upon him for presumably honest counsel. 
The same was true of all those others who were 
in the immediate confidence of the President. 
Mr. Baker's excellent fifth volume unques- 
tionably the best thus far in what was threat- 
ening to be an uninspired and pedestrian 
biography indicates this clearly: here was the 
President, not too well informed himself as to 
the historical reasons for the World War, but 
instinctively suspicious of the British and 
originally committed to neutrality, compelled 
to retreat step by step as a result of the pres- 
sures being exerted by his inner circle of ad- 
visers. When, in October, 191 5, Wilson yielded 
to the demands of Secretary of the Treasury 
McAdoo and lifted the ban against Allied 
long-term flotations in this country, the die 
was cast; Mr. Baker clearly understands this 
when he says that thenceforth our foreign 
policy 'was reduced to futility.' 

These volumes raise important questions as 
regards the forms neutrality legislation is to 
take. Can the Executive, even granting his 
honest intentions, be subjected to this type of 
ordeal and reasonably be expected to be 
guided by the objective facts? Obviously, a 
harassed President, particularly during a war, 
is incapable of keeping his hands on every 
situation; he must depend on better informed, 
better technically equipped persons than him- 




self. And when such advisers may turn out to 
be men like Lansing, House, McAdoo, and 
Page it must be apparent that the dangers to 
peace will be numerous. Add to the picture the 
temperament of an Executive like Wilson 
his capacity for self-delusion, his stubbornness, 
his ambitions and it must be plain that not 
the Executive but Congress is the agency for 
the protection of American neutral rights. 

Yet Messrs. Dulles and Armstrong would 
leave the Executive's hands completely free. 
Theirs is a strangely confusing book. In effect. 
Can We Be Neutral? underwrites the Roosevelt 
administration's demand for discretionary 
powers for the Executive. Their program calls 
for the following: i. American travel in the 
ships of belligerents should be limited; 2. an 
arms embargo is to be imposed when the Presi- 
dent sees fit; 3. long-term capital flotations in 
the American money market by belligerents 
are to be banned, but not normal commercial 
credits (obviously, sooner or later these latter 
must be converted into long-term obligations); 
4. embargoes on manufactured goods and raw 
materials are to be imposed, but at the dis- 
cretion of the President (otherwise, argue the 
authors, letting the cat out of the bag, our 
great commercial rivals might receive undue 
advantages; also, the weapon of the embargo 
would be dulled completely if we should ever 
want to come to the aid of democratic nations 
in peril, meaning China); 5. trade at your own 
risk is to be the key to a neutrality policy. The 
authors dismiss the proposals for a quota sys- 
tem of rationing and Mr. Baruch's cash-and- 
carry plan as impracticable. Like Professor 
Seymour, they are not convinced of the efficacy 
of such measures, and they end up hopefully 
by declaring that the only way of keeping out 
of war is by getting rid of war's causes. 

This constant compromising of their position 
indicates plainly that Messrs. Dulles and 
Armstrong do not find war altogether repug- 
nant. In view of the testimony of Messrs. 
Morgan and Lamont before the Nye Com- 
mittee, this should no longer surprise Ameri- 
cans. Thus, we are to limit trade but not really 
stop it; we are not to finance long-term issues, 
but short-term credits are all right; we are to 
order our business men to trade at their own 
risk, but, of course, we are to defend them 
when foreign interference has a commercial 
and not a military purpose; we are to do noth- 
ing intrinsically that will hurt American busi- 
ness or increase unemployment; and never 

must we jeopardize our standing as a world 
power. Above all, we must continue to com- 
mand the respect of other nations. 

It must be apparent that such a program is 
worse than useless, for it engenders a false 
confidence. The arms traffic, credits, loans, 
travel on and use of belligerent merchant 
ships and the inflation of commerce beyond a 
peace-time basis are the causes that pushed us 
into the last world war; they will involve us in 
the next. On the basis of our earlier experience 
it must be plain that the investing of final 
powers in the hands of the Executive, to be ap- 
plied by him at will, is a dangerous and futile 

A realistic program for neutrality would call 
for the following: 1. Supreme power in the 
hands of Congress, to be exercised unremit- 
tingly as soon as a major conflict breaks out. 
We have a better chance of avoiding being 
sucked in with Congress at the controls, for the 
popular demand for peace is more likely to 
obtain a hearing from Congress than from an 
isolated and perhaps highly opinionated Ex- 
ecutive. Also, it is imperative, at the present 
stage, to build up the position of Congress, for 
otherwise, if we should enter into a major war, 
there is not the slightest question that a move 
would be made to clamp a military-Fascist 
dictatorship on the country. 2. Neutrality 
legislation to be supported by popular 
organization for peace, with a militant program 
centering in trade union action. Only the 
workers, in the final analysis, can prevent, or 
at least delay, our being dragged in: and by 
demonstrations, strikes, the joining of hands 
with farmers, and a people's embargo, stop the 
manufacture of war and other materials and 
their shipment to belligerents. 

In any case, whether American entry can be 
prevented, as long as Fascism is held in check 
through the weakening of the powers of the 
Executive, there will still remain the possi- 
bility of capturing the Government and trans- 
forming the economy. War is an integral part 
of the capitalist pattern: and War, and its 
twin sister, Fascism, must steadfastly be 
fought. The maintenance of Congress's posi- 
tion, constantly supported and corrected by an 
aggressive people's movement, oflFers an even 
chance for peace. Otherwise, as the books 
under review plainly indicate, we are doomed 
to enter the next world war before the first gun 
is fired. 

Louis M, Hacker 




China's Millions. By Anna Louise Strong. 
New York: Knight Publications^ Inc. 1^35. 

4,57 p^s^^- $2-50. 

TN THE final chapters of Miss Strong's book, 
' she brings up to date the running account of 
what she saw in China in 1927, when the most 
spectacular of that country's revolutions was 
already dying its slow death at Wuhan. They 
form an account of the history of those dis- 
tricts where the Chinese Soviets have persisted. 
Written in Moscow, which was farther from 
China in 1935 than in 1927, this part of the 
book suffers from distance and not from de- 
tachment. Lack of any authentic information 
about the strength and even the present loca- 
tion of these districts makes optimism about 
their chances of survival as much a matter of 
faith as the periodic predictions from Nanking 
of their extinction. 

The bulk of the book was written in 1927. 
Most of it has been published earlier in scat- 
tered form. Except for a portion of Vincent 
Sheehan's 'Personal History,' there is no ac- 
count in English which can compare with this 
story of the months leading up to the final 
collapse of the revolutionary nationalism which 
had swept northward from Canton to the 

Miss Strong is frank in admitting that at 
first she did not see the fatal division of in- 
terests between the peasants and workers, or- 
ganized under Bolshevist influence, and the 
compradore bankers and merchants who had 
financed the revolution and were eventually to 
compound its profits in the bond issues of 
Nanking. This only strengthens the conviction 
with which her record of the gradual break is 
told. She did not stay in Hankow, and her 
descriptions of Chengchow, where Chinese 
generals led by Feng Yu-hsiang dickered over 
terms of alliance, or of Hunan, where the 
landlords and merchants had already begun 
to wipe out the last vestiges of peasant control, 
are among the most convincing chapters in 
the book. 

The middle section remains one of the 
classics of revolutionary literature. It is the 
Odyssey of Michael Borodin, professional revo- 
lutionary who took to China the lessons of his 
trade, learned in Chicago, Mexico, Turkey and 
Russia. After his alliance with the Kuomin- 
tang had broken down, he set off in a motor 
caravan with Miss Strong, Percy Chen, son 
of China's Foreign Minister, and a few of his 

followers, to cross the hinterland of China 
through Mongolia and back to Russia. 

All other routes were closed to him. His wife 
was being held a prisoner by Chang Tso-lin. 
His mission had collapsed after more nearly 
achieving unity for China than any revolution- 
ary movement since 191 1. They crossed the 
mountains of Shensi and the Gobi Desert be- 
fore they found, in Outer Mongolia, the first 
signs of the revolutionary spirit which was their 
own stock in trade. The story of this trip is told 
by Miss Strong without any attempt to recon- 
cile its contradictory meanings of failure and 
a kind of ultimate triumph. Borodin in a curi- 
ously Russian way had made himself a part of 
the Chinese Revolution, and his flight ex- 
pressed as perhaps no other incident of its de- 
velopment both the despair and the hope that 
it left in China. Miss Strong has described it 
simply, in a chronicle that is good reporting 
and may prove to be good history. 

Joseph Barnes 

What Next in Europe ?^ ^jy Sir Arthur Wil- 
lert. New T'ork: G. P. Putnam's Sons. igjS. 
J20 pages. $3.00. 

AS WARTIME correspondent of the London 
-^~*- Times in Washington, member of many 
British delegations to many post-War confer- 
ences and recent head of the Press Department 
in the British Foreign Office, Sir Arthur Wil- 
lert speaks with authority and accuracy on the 
future of Europe. To make assurance doubly 
sure he has just completed a personal tour of 
the Continent, to check up on the chief trouble 
spots in person. What is his verdict ? 

On page 7 we find him referring to Lord 
Grey of Falloden a misprint, of course, 
though it is repeated the next time the late 
Grey of Fallodon's name appears. And surely 
it is careless proof-reading that transforms 
Herr Himmler, head of Hitler's Gestapo, into 
Himler on the two occasions he appears. But 
when Marshal LudendorfF, whose humble 
birth prevented his rising to the supreme posi- 
tion he deserved long before 1914, appears as 
von LudendorfF, horrid doubts begin to assail 
the reader. These are not allayed by Sir 
Arthur's consistent use of the word 'Russia' 
to designate all the separate national Repub- 
lics that go to make up the U. S. S. R. it is only 
when he quotes Hitler that Sir Arthur allows 
himself to slip into the more accurate designa- 
tion of Soviet Union. But when this product of 
Eton and Balliol College, Oxford, refers to the 



Nazis as the Nazi, one loses patience. Does 
Sir Arthur suppose that the singular form is 

Yet these inaccuracies, and literally dozens 
more like them, might be ignored if Sir Arthur 
had grasped the major implications of his 
theme. But no. As a loyal Briton and upholder 
of the League he rhapsodizes over the la- 
mented Sir Samuel Hoare's endorsement of 
that organization. In fact, he found it 'both 
flattering and embarrassing* merely to be an 
Englishman last summer. At the same time, 
he does coyly admit that ' there is a difference 
between the Collective System as it has been 
envisaged by the British Government and as 
it is understood by Europeans.' Perhaps a 
select group of The Living Age readers, 
toughened by the rugged fare that they have 
been served, lo, these ninety years, can digest 
and even enjoy this poisonous nonsense. In 
any case Sir Arthur can safely receive, even at 
this early hour, recognition for having written 
the year's worst book on world affairs. 

QuiNCY Howe 

The Russian Financial System. By W. B. 
Reddaway. New Tbrk: The Macmillan Com- 
pany. igjS' ^06 pages. $2.25. 

\/fR. REDDAWAY rendered a valuable 
service to the people who are interested 
in Russian economics, or the experiment of 
planned economy, in explaining the various 
checks and re-checks established by the Rus- 
sian Soviet Government to make that system 
work. But when one has completed reading the 
book, the mental reaction is that the real name 
of the book should have been Thf Lack of a 
Financial System in Russia from the point of 
view of capitalistic economics. When you are 
through with the book, you ask yourself this 
question: 'What does all this mental account- 
ing matter when everything really belongs to 
the State?' 

My deduction is that when Mr. Reddaway 
went to Russia to study the problem, he had 
the following question in mind: 'If competi- 
tive wages, prices and profits are not the 
mechanism by which the Communistic system 
directs resources to specific industries and 
finished products to individual consumers, and 
if these ends are assumed to be achieved by 
direct planning, what part is left for the money 

and the banking system to play?' And after 
Mr. Reddaway spent some time and wrote a 
book of some hundred odd pages explaining 
the various mechanics of the Communistic 
system, his answer in brief is: 

'That the financial and banking system be- 
comes the State Cost Accounting Department 
and that although, from the State's point of 
view, direct action takes the part of indirect 
control through prices, money must play its 
usual function as a money of account and aid in 
the distribution of resources to maximum ad- 

Mr. Reddaway's further analysis leads him 
to believe that the only function that the finan- 
cial system plays in Russia is as a control sys- 
tem to establish a rigid economy and a perfect 
Accounting Department between the correlat- 
ing branches of the various industries con- 
trolled by the Soviet Government. 

In other words, from the point of view of the 
outside world, in the phraseology used in the 
financial systems in Europe, and America, 
there is no yardstick or gauge by means of 
which to approach the financial system of 
Russia. In fact, there is no necessity for a 
financial system under an economy where 
everything is controlled by the State. 

In a capitalistic country where the motive of 
production is profit, the financial system is the 
balance wheel of expansion and contraction of 
currency by means of increasing or decreasing 
the discount rates to control the flow of capital 
for existing industries and for the expansion of 
new industries. In a planned economy where 
everything is owned by the Government and 
the basis of production is the required con- 
sumption and the military and naval expendi- 
tures for the security of the State, no financial 
balance wheel is required to control the flow of 
capital expansion. 

However, Mr. Reddaway has rendered a 
service in discussing in full detail the dual price 
system which existed in Russia until the mid- 
dle of last year and the derationing and aboli- 
tion of the bread cards which has just recently 
been inaugurated. Anyone who is interested in 
Russian economics and watches the gradual 
perfection of the controlled economy existing 
in Russia will appreciate this valuable informa- 
tion given in Mr. Reddaway's book. 

Sol Gross bard 


Continuing this month our brief 

survey of American associations for the 
advancement of peace, we should like to 
mention first of all the World Alliance for 
International Friendship through the 
Churches (70 Fifth Avenue, New York 
City). The World Alliance was founded in 
Constanz, Germany, in August, 19 14, at 
the very moment of the outbreak of the 
World War. Its founders, churchmen 
from all parts of the world, realized that 
they had put off too long the task of or- 
ganizing for peace. Nevertheless, before 
leaving Constanz, they passed a set of 
resolutions to the effect that the Christian 
Churches of the world should use their in- 
fluence to bring about friendly relations 
between the nations, and that steps 
should be taken to form councils in every 
country to enlist Churches in this work. 

The first meeting of the World Alliance 
after the War was in the fall of 1919, and 
the Alliance has held annual meetings ever 
since. It now has councils in thirty-three 
nations. It carries on its work through an 
international Committee whose members 
are elected by the National Council. Be- 
sides its annual world meetings the Al- 
liance has held a series of regional confer- 
ences from time to time. It publishes a 
number of international journals and 
papers, and there is a constant inter- 
change of news and plans between its na- 
tional units. It also has a strong Youth 

In short, the World Alliance, through 
organization, through education, through 
information and through the propagation 
of its ideals and purposes has performed 
services of incalculable value in further- 
ing throughout the world the cause of 

A PEACE organization of a similar sort 
is the Catholic Association of Interna- 
tional Peace, founded in 1927 in order to 

help American public opinion, and partic- 
ularly Catholics, in the task of ascertain- 
ing more fully the facts of international 
life. It issues committee reports and pam- 
phlets on international questions; pro- 
motes international discussion clubs in 
Catholic colleges, seminaries, and lay 
groups; and endeavors to further 'the 
Peace of Christ in the Kingdom of Christ.' 

has started a new series of pamphlets 
called Foreign Policy Pamphlets. These 
will take the place of World Affairs Pam- 
phlets, whose publication has now been 
taken over by the World Peace Founda- 
tion. The first issue of Foreign Policy 
Pamphlets, recently published, is The 
Population Problem and World Depression^ 
by Louis I. Dublin, President of the 
Population Association of America. In 
this study it is pointed out that while 
birth rates decline in Great Britain, 
France and the United States, large popu- 
lation increases are reported annually in 
Germany, Italy, Japan and the Soviet 
Union. According to Dr. Dublin, Italy's 
Ethiopian adventure clearly illustrates the 
extreme to which a particularly acute 
population problem will drive an ambi- 
tious nation. 

The second number in this series will be 
a comprehensive survey of events in Eu- 
rope during the past year and a brief dis- 
cussion of what may be expected during 
the coming year, by Raymond Leslie 
Buell, President of the Association. 

The Foreign Policy Reports series has 
recently contained a clear analysis of the 
position of the United States regarding 
neutrality, The New American Neutrality y 
and an historical survey of Cuban events 
since the fall of Machado, in two issues, by 
Charles A. Thomson: The Cuban Revolu- 
tion: I. Fall of Machado. 1. Reform and 





TO WASH AWAY the bad taste left by 
the Pol article, we offer a short story by a 
celebrated young Italian novelist and 
poet, Aldo Palazzeschi. Frederic Leftvre, 
the editor of the Nouvelles Litteraires, has 
characterized Palazzeschi as *a writer 
whose spirit is profoundly Italian and, at 
the same time, one of the most deserving 
of a hearing beyond the borders of Italy.' 
This story about a woman who was ab- 
normally fond of cats is typical of Palaz- 
zeschi, who delights in tales of the gro- 
tesque, the fantastic, the monstrous, [p. 2Z] 

MR. L^ON PIERRE-QUINT, who wrote 
one of the best books on Proust that we 
have {Marcel Proust: His Life and Work. 
New York: Knopf. 1927.), decided re- 
cently to reread the author whom he had 
once so warmly admired. The world has 
changed since the day, ten years ago and 
more, when the last of the many volumes 
of A la Recherche du temps perdu appeared 
in the bookshops. In France today it is 
the habit of the younger generation, and 
especially of the radical * advance guard,' 
to belittle Proust, to damn him with the 
epithet of * bourgeois,' or to point out that 
a reading of his novel is of no assistance 
whatever toward the understanding of 
economics. It was in the light of this 
criticism that Mr. Pierre-Quint set about 
his task of revaluation, [p. 50] 

IT HAS often been charged that visitors 
to Russia are not allowed to see anything 
which the Soviet government does not 
wish them to see, and on the other side 
of the fence that those who come home 
with unfavorable reports are merely the 
paid propagandists of Messrs. Hitler and 
Hearst. It is therefore a privilege to be 

able to present the by no means wholly 
laudatory account of Ethel Mannin, who 
went where she pleased and is as free of 
the charge of being hostile to communism 
as any radical novelist and journalist and 
member of the British International 
Labor Party could be. [p. 60] 

BY WAY of a counterfoil to Miss Man- 
nin's charges comes Lev Kassil's story of 
the woman who hoarded, and got caught 
'long' when the ration cards were abol- 
ished. Kassil is one of the most hopeful of 
the younger novelists in the U. S. S. R. 
today. He is the author of Vodka Vezdie 
Khodka (Whiskey Goes Everywhere), and 
Shvambrania (recently published in trans- 
lation by the Viking Press), [p. 6^] 

ALL OF Germany's neighbor nations 
harbor refugees from Hitlerism today, but 
they do not all treat their guests alike. In 
the once very liberal Holland, for in- 
stance, as a correspondent of the Neues 
Wiener Tagblatt points out, economic and 
civil liberties are being more and more 
curtailed as the influx of immigrants deep- 
ens the crisis and forces the Government 
to take action to combat it. [p. 66] 

ON THE OTHER HAND Switzerland, a 
favorite refuge of German exiles, remains 
true to her liberal democratic traditions, 
and for that reason is one of the most 
hospitable hosts the expatriated German 
can find in Europe. Otto Zarek, a German 
novelist and an exile himself, describes the 
life of some of his compatriots there, 
[p. 68] 

LE SANG NOIR, by Louis Guilloux, will 
be published in this country by Robert 
McBride. The English edition of Rudolf 
Olden's Hitler will be published by Victor 
GoUancz, London. 



for April, 1936 


The Land Beyond the Rhine 

I. Hitler's Motor Highways General Serrigny 102 

n. Hitler's Secret Police 108 

Carnages and Kings 

I. Paranoia and War Roger Money-Kyrle 1 1 1 

II, The Psychology of Constitutional Monarchy Ernest Jones 117 

Echoes from the East 

I. Young China Goes to School 121 

II. Mongolia, Land of Contrasts Eugene Scbreider 126 

HI. Japan and Siam Otto Corbach 1 28 

IV. Japan's Island Wall Willard Price 130 

A Tale of Two Cities 

I. Moscow Buys Leo Lania 142 

II. Berlin Revisited Friedrich Sieburg 146 

The Good Horse (A Story) Antoon Coolen 150 

Spaniards on Two Continents 

I. Four Years to Rebuild Spain Harold Laski 159 

II. The Argentine Recovers C. Hillekamps 162 


The World Over 95 

Persons and Personages 

Milan Hodza, Professor and Man of Action Hubert Beuve-Mery 133 

Albert Sarraut Odette Pannetier 136 

Darius Milhaud M. D. Calvocoressi 140 

Letters and the Arts 164 

As Others See Us 167 

Books Abroad 171 

Our Own Bookshelf 1 83 

With the Organizations 1 87 

Thb Living Agk. Published monthly. Publication office, 10 Ferry Street, Concord, N. H. Editorial and General offices. 253 Broad- 
way, New York City. 50c a copy. $6.00 a year. Canada. $6.50. Foreign, $7.00. Entered as second-class matter at the Post Office at 
Concord, N. H.. under the Act of Congress. March 3, 1879. Copyright, 1936, by The Living Age Corporation. New York, New York. 

The Living Age was established by E. Littell, in Boston, Massachusette, May, 1844. It was first known as Littell's Living Age, suc- 
ceeding LiUell's Museum of Foreign Literature, which had been previously published in Philadelphia for more than twenty years. In a 
prepublication announcement of Littell's Living Age, in 1844, Mr. Littell said : ' The steamship has brought Europe, Asia, and Africa 
mto our neighborhood; and will greatly multiply our connections, as Merchants, Travelers, and Politicians, with all parts of the world: 
sc\that much more than ever, it now becomes every intelligent American to be informed of the condition and changes of foreign countries.' 

Subscribers are requested to send notices of changes of address three weeks before they are to take effect. Failure to send such notices 
will result in the incorrect forwarding of the next copy and delay in its receipt. Old and new addresses must both be given. 


With all the excitement caused by 
Hitler's occupation of the Rhineland, a 
great deal has been written and said about 
Germany's preparations for war. But so 
far we have failed to see in this country 
any discussion of the Reich's new automo- 
bile highways. General Serrigny's article 
not only describes them, but points out 
their military significance, and outlines a 
counter-program for France, [p. 102] 

ONCE AGAIN the 'Special Correspond- 
ent' of the Manchester Guardian delves 
into the closely guarded secrets of the 
Nazi Government, coming out this time 
with a detailed account of the organization 
of the Gestapo, or Secret Police. How this 
anonymous newspaperman succeeds in 
getting his stories only he himself knows. 
But the reports he sends back to his paper 
constitute one of the most valuable sources 
of information about Nazi Germany we 
have. [p. 108] 

IS MAN a 'rational egoist' or a 'homi- 
cidal maniac'? An English psychologist, 
Mr. Roger Money-Kyrle, thinks that he is 
'an aggressive animal with a slightly 
paranoiac strain,' and that it is to this fact 
that his wars are due. Accordingly the 
road to peace leads, not through social 
revolution, but through the nursery as 
will appear in the article. Paranoia and 
fFar.ip. Ill] 

BUT if there is a psychological explana- 
tion of war, there is also a psychological 
explanation of constitutional monarchy. 
The famous London psychoanalyst. Dr. 
Ernest Jones, explains in terms of the 
(Edipus Complex, and other relics of the 
nursery, the extraordinary stability of the 
British form of government, [p. 1 17] 

SO MUCH has been heard about the 
corruption and duplicity of the Chinese 
Government that there is grave danger of 

losing sight of the good it does. We offer 
this month an article on a rural education 
program in China which was started by a 
single individual, Dr. Yen, but has now 
been taken under the Government's wing. 
According to the author, the experiment 
is to serve as a model for all China, [p. 121] 

NEXT we have a sketch by a Frenchman 
of Outer Mongolia, and its capital, Ulan 
Bator. This is the frontier land, the 
'march,' where Soviet Russia and ancient 
China meet and fuse. The result, as Mr. 
Eugene Schreider points out, is a curious 
mixture of Sovietism and theocracy, 
[p. 126] 

FROM Mongolia we skip to Siam. There 
it is not Russia but Japan which is slowly 
permeating the country with its influence. 
Writing in the Berliner Tageblatt, Otto 
Corbach describes the process, and the 
Siamese reaction to it. [p. 128] 

OUR group on the Far East is concluded 
by an article on the chains of small islands 
which ring around Japan, from the Sea of 
Okhotsk to the South Seas. The southern- 
most of these groups Japan received as 
mandates from the League of Nations. 
Though no longer a member of the League, 
she continues to hold the islands, and the 
League Mandates Commission has shown 
some concern over the amount of money 
she has been spending oij them. Mr. 
Willard Price reports that the improve- 
ments are not military in character. At the 
same time the islands form an ideal pro- 
tective barrier in case of war. [p. 130] 

WITH the turn of the year Soviet Russia 
abolished the last of her ration cards, 
and the long awaited era of abundance 
was forthwith ushered in. Writing in the 
Neues Tagebuchy Leo Lania, a German 
(Continued on page 188) 

-, LiWty 


Founded by E. Littell 

In 1844 

Aprils igj6 Volume j^o, Number 44^5 

The World Over 

The last three weeks of February and the first week of 
March witnessed four events all of which indicated the same underlying 
shift in the world-wide class struggle. First and foremost, the Spanish 
elections showed that the forces of the Left, especially the Labor move- 
ment, had not only achieved unity but had gained the support of the 
majority of the Spanish people. The Japanese elections told the same 
story. Here the liberal Minseito Party and the Social Masses Party, 
representing organized labor, outvoted the conservative Seiyukai Party, 
which has supported the army's high-handed invasion of China. The at- 
tempted coup d'etat and the murder of several statesmen showed the 
lengths to which the Japanese militarists will go in opposing the desires 
of the people. 

In France, the ratification of the Soviet Pact by the Chamber of 
Deputies represented the first tangible victory by the Popular Front, 
which, again, has the support of the majority of the French nation. 
Finally, even Hitler's repudiation of the Locarno Treaty suggests 
especially in the light of the increasing privations of the German people 
that domestic discontent required a bold move in the foreign field. 

Of course none of these events means that world revolution is at the 
door. The Second World War still seems to have the call. But it does 
seem that in Spain, Japan, France and Germany corresponding elements 
in the population have shown signs of life. In Spain the victory of the 
combined forces of Socialism, Communism and Syndicalism took the 
most sensational form, for the army fraternized with the workers. When 

[96] THE LIVING AGE April 

one young officer in Madrid drew his sword and ordered his men to 
charge a street demonstration, the people and the soldiers joined forces 
in disarming and unhorsing him. It seems certain, however, that the 
forces of reaction will strike back as they did in Japan and as they may, 
even yet, in France. 

SENATOR NYE'S arms investigation in the United States and the 
findings of the Royal Commission on the Trade in Arms in England have 
again drawn public attention to the profits of munitions makers. The 
British government's rearmament program has already yielded profits of 
a million-and-a-half pounds to Sir John D. Siddeley, Chairman of the 
Armstrong-Siddeley Development Company, while Mr. T. O. M. Sop- 
with of America s Cup fame made 300 million pounds from an aircraft 
merger. During the past year alone, purchasers of armament and aircraft 
shares have reaped profits as high as 900 per cent merely in anticipation 
of future government orders, and British tax laws do not * crack down ' on 
capital gains as the American tax laws do. When the actual work on re- 
armament begins, the Secret International of munitions makers will 
profit still more handsomely. Sir Harry McGowan, Chairman of Imperial 
Chemicals Industries, told the British arms commission that his com- 
pany and its twenty-one foreign affiliates could produce war material 
from factories now making peace-time goods. He did not hesitate to give 
details : 

Nitric acid was produced in considerable quantities, and that was a basic 
material for practically all high explosives. By-products from the hydrogenation 
of coal could produce certain compounds which entered into the manufacture of 
high explosives. Nitro-cellulose was made for industrial purposes; it could readily 
change over to nitro-cellulose for military explosives, and so on. . . . Chlorine, 
used early in the War for gas attacks, was now one of the most important and 
useful servants of the community in the form of bleaching powder or other 
chloro-compounds. It also provided the only known efficient means of decontam- 
ination after a mustard-gas attack, and was therefore a defensive weapon of the 
highest value. 

HECTOR C. BYWATER, naval correspondent of the Daily Tele- 
graph, and the best informed writer on naval warfare in the world, has 
written two articles telling what the British people might expect for the 
money their Government is spending on defense. He draws attention 
to the dependence of the British Isles on foreign foodstuffs: 

In Great Britain, at any given moment, there are stocks of food sufficient for six 
to eight weeks only. They are replenished daily by cargoes arriving from Canada, 
the United States, South America, India, Australia, New Zealand, and the Far 

Excluding Continental sources of supply which represent only a small per- 

/pjd THE WORLD OVER [97] 

centage of our total imports 6,000 miles is a conservative estimate of the average 
voyage of the ships bringing food and other commodities to British home ports. 
They follow certain routes, any deviation from which would prolong the average 
voyage and thus upset the nicely adjusted schedule of arrivals and clearances on 
which the feeding of our population and the smooth working of our gigantic 
industrial machine depend. 

Neither air power nor sea power can alone serve Britain's defense needs. 
The two must and will be coordinated. Mr. Bywater points out that 
every American and Japanese battleship has at least two aircraft, and 
every cruiser at least four, whereas less than half the corresponding Brit- 
ish vessels carry any airplanes at all, and in most cases they carry only 
one. The British fleet also does not carry such powerful anti-aircraft 
guns as the fleets of the other great Powers. In view of these deficiencies 
England plans to concentrate on aircraft construction and on battleships 
of the latest design. By strengthening the equipment on deck, naval de- 
signers can make vessels relatively secure against air attack, since bombs 
dropped from above carry less explosives than a large shell and travel 
much less rapidly. Given a few years of peace and preparation the British 
fleet can again become far and away the most powerful in the world. 

IN SO FAR as any of this wasteful expenditure can be blamed on any 
single clique, the international bankers deserve greater opprobrium than 
the international munitions makers. Indeed, the connections between 
foreign policy and foreign loans go far toward accounting for the whole 
crazy drift of world affairs in recent years. Because British banks and 
investors hold 42 million pounds in long-term German credits and held 
70 millions in short-term credits in 1931, the British Foreign Office has 
treated Hitler far more tolerantly than it has Mussohni, whose govern- 
ment owes only 1 million pounds to England. In like manner the 240 
million pounds of British investments in China He outside the 'sphere of 
influence' that Japan has claimed up to now; also the Japanese have 
raised some 38 milHon pounds in England since the war, bringing the 
total amount of Japanese loans held in London to some 80 million 

But if the British Foreign Office has shown every consideration for 
Germany and Japan, it may presently be expected to treat France and 
the Soviet Union n;ore kindly. For many of the same British bankers 
who were pouring money into Germany before 1931 have now arranged 
a loan of 40 million pounds to France. This credit will enable the French, 
in turn, to loan money to the Russians, who will thereupon turn round' 
and spend the money purchasing the products of French industry. Yet 
when the Russians approached the British bankers with the same propo- 
sition they were turned down. Francis Williams, financial editor of the 
Laborite Daily Herald, draws this comparison with the events of 1931 : 

[98] THE LIVING AGE April 

The position has a certain similarity to that which existed prior to the 1931 

At that time opposition in the City to substantial Russian credits was much 
stronger even than it is today. Instead British banks gaily lent money to Ger- 
many which Germany in turn re-lent to Russia at a higher interest rate. 

And incidentally, while the British excuse for refusing to consider Russian 
credits at that time was that Russia could not be regarded as a sound borrower, it 
was not Russia which defaulted, but Germany. 

I do not, of course, suggest that the similarity between the present situation 
and that prior to 1931 is complete. I do not think, for example, that there is any 
danger whatever of a French default on the credit just arranged, nor is Russia in 
such urgent need of foreign credits now as she was at that time. 

Nevertheless, British industrialists and unemployed workers in British indus- 
tries which would benefit substantially from the increased Russian orders which 
would be made possible by reasonable credits, will, I imagine, feel that if we are 
ready to lend money to France which will enable France to lend to Russia, we 
ought to consider whether there would not be much more sense in lending to 
Russia ourselves and ourselves getting the benefit of the orders she can place. 

WITHOUT GOING SO FAR as to prophesy actual default by the 
French one can, in the light of subsequent events, detect a certain 
amount of wishful thinking in Mr. Williams's optimistic view of the 
financial integrity of France. Hitler's excursion into the Rhineland 
announced as we go to press can hardly add to the prestige or power of 
France; and that is not all. Premier Sarraut, who has the support of the 
Popular Front of Communists, Socialists, and Radicals, once proclaimed 
Communism as the enemy. His repression of that movement as former 
Governor General of Indo-China, and his inclusion of a textile magnate, 
Nicolle, and a reactionary Clerical, Thellier, in his Cabinet, make him 
suspect by the Left. Yet at the same time his support of the Franco- 
Soviet Pact has earned him the hostility of the extreme NationaHsts. 
Here, for instance, is the way Raymond Recouly, the Mark Sullivan of 
France, writes of the Soviet alliance in the Conservative weekly, 
Grin go ire: 

Soviet Russia has never ceased giving proof of its perfidy both where it saw 
profit in allying itself against us with Germany at Rapallo, insulting and vilifying 
the League of Nations as long as it did not belong to that body, and then praising 
the League as soon as it gained admittance, thanks to us, all the while never ceas- 
ing, even after signing an agreement with us, to fight us with all its forces, all its 
money, making propaganda for insurrection and civil war in France and our 
Colonies, subsidizing our domestic politics, setting up the United Front, preparing 
to play a part of the first importance in the coming elections, although they are 
the concern of Frenchmen only and not of Muscovites. That is the country to 
which people want the fate of France to be attached! 

Mr. Recouly's prose style not to mention the content of his thought 
reflects the confused atmosphere of which Hitler tried to take full 

/pjd THE WORLD OVER [99] 

NOR ARE THE DIFFICULTIES of France confined to the domestic 
scene. Trouble has again broken out in Syria. Fired by the example of 
the Egyptian Nationalists, the Syrians and Druses have launched their 
third insurrection since their territory became a French mandate after 
the war. From 1919 to 1921 the Druses revolted against their new rulers 
so vigorously that they won a limited amount of autonomy, and in 1925- 
26 no less than 1,200 Druses were killed in the bombardment of Damascus 
by French guns. Today rebellion has again broken out, and the death list 
of natives is running into the hundreds. 

The current disorders originated a year ago, when the French High 
Commissioner dissolved the Syrian parliament. On January 22, 1936, 
rioting broke out in Damascus, and demonstrations of students and 
workers followed in the other Syrian cities. Then came a general strike 
that stopped all electrical service in Damascus. The universities closed 
their doors and the Syrian parliament protested to the League of Na- 
tions and to the French government in Paris. Sympathetic strikes broke 
out in the neighboring British mandates of Palestine and Transjordania, 
and fifty members of the Parliament of Irak addressed a memorandum 
to the League of Nations laying the full blame on the French mandate 

What is behind the disturbances? Primarily, economic depression; 
but it seems that the Third International also has taken a hand. Just as 
the British Intelligence Service fomented the Druse uprisings after the 
war in spite of the Anglo-French aUiance, so today the Franco-Soviet 
Pact did not prevent the spokesmen for the Syrian Communists from 
telling the Comintern last summer: *We have completely Arabized the 
Communist Party by working with the nationalist movement. We have 
solid positions in every layer of the Arab population and we have become 
the promoters of the Arab nationalist movement in Syria. We have 
established the united front against French imperialism.' 

Opponents of the Franco-Soviet Pact vainly drew this statement to 
the attention of the French public. 

OTTO STRASSER, whose brother, Gregor, followed Hitler from the 
earliest days of the Nazi movement only to fall victim to the June 30 
purge, has become one of the most violent and best informed critics of 
the present regime. He edits from Prague a weekly paper called the 
Deutsche Revolution^ and his contacts in the Nazi movement give him 
access to material that neither the Communist, Socialist, Jewish, Catho- 
lic nor Protestant opposition can discover. Strasser accuses Hitler of 
sabotaging the German revolution. He opposes anti-Semitism and war 
preparations, and, if his descriptions of conditions in Germany can be 
believed, they would account for Hitler's move into the Rhineland. 

[loo] THE LIVING AGE April 

For according to Strasser's sources of information the domestic situa- 
tion grows increasingly desperate. During 1935 the price of gasoline rose 
48 per cent, cattle, 37 per cent, tea, 20 per cent, and cheese, 17 per cent. 
Total food costs rose 7.1 per cent during the year. At the same time 
earnings have fallen approximately 10 per cent all along the line, both 
in private industry and in government and municipal jobs such as 
schools and hospitals. Not only have earnings declined since Hitler came 
into power; they have declined from an abnormally low level; for by the 
end of 1932 German wage rates had dropped 23.9 per cent below 1929 
levels. No wonder Adolf Wagner, Minister of the Interior for Bavaria, 
recently told the Nazi authorities: 'Innumerable German workers are 
suffering hunger in order that the Reich may continue.' Finally, Stras- 
ser's paper asserts that the Reichswehr has turned against the Hitler 
system : 

The neutrality of the Reichswehr is a thing of the past. The officers have 
recognized that they owe a responsibility to the nation in the present state of 
affairs, a responsibility that extends beyond the purely military field. They are 
beginning to ask themselves how long they can tolerate the disastrous effects of 
this system on the state and the nation. 

SIR ARNOLD WILSON, Conservative member of Parliament, has 
visited Italy and interviewed Mussolini for the London Observer^ which 
has constantly opposed sanctions and has argued the justice of the Ital- 
ian cause. He returns with a sorrowful message to his fellow country- 
men : 

We shall not recover this market; repeated strikes and threats of strikes, and 
now 'sanctions,' have taught Italians a lesson; German and Austrian goods are 
replacing British goods and the public and shopkeepers alike vow that the change 
is permanent. The labels on British goods are being removed; stocks will not be 
renewed. They do not feel so strongly about France. 

Mussolini blamed Great Britain for prolonging the conflict and as- 
sured Sir Arnold that he harbored no designs against any British interest 
in Africa. He then asked Sir Arnold these embarrassing questions: 

'Have your activities for the last three hundred years been criminal adven- 
tures in your eyes? Are not we Italians, by imitating you, paying you the high- 
est compliment? Was Cecil Rhodes a criminal? Was Gordon's mission to the 
Sudan a delusion? 

' Is there anything immoral in enabling a great race to expand its borders and, 
in so doing, to free millions from the foulest servitude ever imposed by man on 
man? To the inhabitants of the non-Amharic areas, and to the Italian troops, 
this is a war of liberation; a war against misery and slavery.' 

Then came these reproachful words: 


1936 THE WORLD OVER [loi] 

'We have relied, more than most countries, on the normal avenues of in- 
ternational trade: these, once choked, cannot quickly be opened. Public opinion 
has been aroused. We shall not soon forget the language used by your statesmen. 
You have turned a colonial war into what may yet be a world-wide disaster. 
Where is the Stresa front now? We cannot forget the blood and treasure we 
poured out in the Great War, nor put away from us the remembrance of 670,000 
dead. Have you so soon forgotten?' 

Sir Arnold Wilson and a handful of Tories have not forgotten the im- 
portance of teaming up with Mussolini; but the mass of the British peo- 
ple take, for better or worse, a different view. 

THE RECRUDESCENCE of Russian nationalism in the Soviet Union 
and the Communists' brief relaxation of class war on the world front 
reflect the Kremlin's fears of a new world war. Up to now foreign Com- 
munists visiting the 'fatherland of the proletariat' have been made 
members of the Russian Communist Party when they arrived on Soviet 
soil. Not only is this practice to be discontinued; henceforth all such 
members of the Russian Party must surrender their cards. Then, shortly 
after Bukharin, editor of the Moscow Izvestia, was relieved of his post 
because he recalled how Lenin opposed the nationalism of the Great 
Russians under the Tsar, Nikolaus Basseches, Moscow correspondent 
of the Vienna Neue Freie Presse, reported: 

'The meeting of the all-Russian Central Executive Committee, following the 
lead of the Russian Federated Republic, furthered the historic task of the Great 
Russians in the Revolution and in building the Socialist state, and declared that 
it was false and contrary to the teachings of Lenin to paint the history of Great 
Russia exclusively in dark colors.' 

At the same time, A. T. Cholerton, Moscow correspondent of the 
London Daily Telegraphy drew attention to the Soviet military prepara- 
tions. He estimated at six millions the number of men who have had two 
years of military training, and expressed his confidence in the ability of 
the Soviet armed forces to defend themselves against all comers. But in 
spite of a military budget twice as large as that of 1935 he did not believe 
that the Soviet army could or would fight outside its own territories. 
Here is the way he summed up the future as the men in the Kremlin see 

Within three years Red Russia expects to have to fight Germany, and, still 
believing that England and France will also be fighting Germany in the same 
war, she expects to be victorious. 

After that Moscow foresees an epoch of disorder in Europe something like 
the Thirty Years War, a breakdown of national government in Central Europe 
perhaps extending to France, reaction against revolution, with anybody fighting 
anybody, and the British and Soviet systems probably alone surviving the first 
round or two. 

A French general writes of Germany's 
auto highways; an Englishman describes 
the organization of her secret police. 

The Land beyond 
the RHINE 

I. Hitler's Motor Highways 

By General Serrigny 
Translated from the Revue des Deux Mondes, Paris Conservative Bi-Monthly 

H/UROPE seems to be coming out of 
a long dream and to be realizing at 
last the stage which science has 
reached since 191 8, both on land and 
in the air. The days of war horses have 
gone the way of those carriages our 
mothers were so fond of. Today war 
supplies, the mobilization of factories, 
and the speeding-up of air armament, 
are all coming rapidly to the fore. In 
Germany concrete is coming to be 
king. Our neighbors have in fact 
undertaken a vast program, of whose 
import the public officials of France 
seem to be unaware. While we are 
congratulating ourselves, and with 
justice, on possessing the world's most 
beautiful tourist system, and while we 
are striving to improve the details of 
it, the Germans are forging a formi- 
dable instrument of war a system of 
automobile highways. 

Shall we wake up in time to the 
menace which hangs over our heads. 

and shall we know how to parry it? 
Let us recall our memories of 19 14. At 
that time mobilization was based on 
an intensive use of the railways. To- 
ward 1900 people used to repeat read- 
ily the statement that the power of the 
rail is unlimited. Like all proverbs this 
one was only partly true. But what- 
ever the case, it was generally ex- 
pected that when the time came, men, 
horses, wagons and material would be 
transported by railroad to the thresh- 
old of the mobilization zone. Only the 
last kilometers would be' covered by 
road, which was looked upon simply 
as a complement of the railroad, that 
supreme factor of strategic maneu- 

The mobilization of 1914 was ac- 
complished in an impeccable fashion. 
It proceeded like clock work, without 
a single hitch. The officers of the fourth 
bureau of the military staff of the 
army, who had prepared it, could con- 





gratulate themselves as well as the 
railroad companies, for the result ob- 
tained was their common work. After 
our defeat of 1870, some one had had 
the happy idea of creating a higher 
military commission for the railroads, 
over which, beginning in 1886, the 
Chief of the General Staff presided, 
and which included in its number the 
directors of the big railroad companies 
and the military technicians. Every 
year this commission used to study the 
changes which it would be necessary 
to make in the system to adapt it to 
the needs of the current plan of mobili- 
zation. They used to work together to 
find the necessary formulas for its 
realization, and finally by these fre- 
quent contacts to create a unity of 
mind which was destined to assert it- 
self in the critical hours of the war. 

Once mobilization was completed 
the role of the railroad, in so far as it 
was an instrument of war, actually in- 
creased. Our generation still recalls the 
emotions with which, after the victory 
of the Marne, it followed the race to 
the sea, that contest in speed in which 
the belligerents engaged in order to 
stretch a line of trenches between 
Switzerland and the Atlantic Ocean. 
La Manche was destined to be domi- 
nated by one or the other of the bel- 
ligerents according to the point on the 
coast where they could hook the last 
link of their chain. Direct communica- 
tions between France and England 
constituted, in short, the stakes of the 
game. This game our railroads once 
more won, and under particularly 
difficult conditions. The Germans had, 
in fact, the advantage of being able to 
work out their transportation problem 
inside a circle, while we were obliged 
to work on the outside of it. For us the 
distances were greater and the routes 

unfamiliar. Nevertheless we succeeded 
in saving Calais, and this feat alone 
gives the Nord Railroad a legitimate 
claim to glory. 

The War continues, the years pass; 
the use of automobile trucks increases; 
but the railroads remain no less the 
principal instrument of maneuvers. 
Light arms continue to be easy to 
load; the roads are narrow and short 
and the effectiveness of trucks is 
limited. Thus when, in 191 7, General 
Petain assumes the role of command- 
er-in-chief, his first act is to order me 
to draw up instructions to the major- 
general enjoining him to lay out be- 
hind the front, and without delay, 
two successive lines of railroads which, 
in conjunction with the roads that ran 
at right angles to them, would permit 
the maneuvering of large masses of 
men. This equipment was rapidly con- 
structed. It played a major role at the 
time of the 191 8 offensives in assuring 
rapid concentration at points far re- 
moved from one another. Thanks to it 
the front was broken and victory as- 
sured. In the past the railroad has 
merited well of the fatherland. 

But such a statement ought not to 
freeze us in an immutable formula. It 
is our duty to take account of the 
progress that has been made, and we 
are obliged to state that since 191 8 
there has been a great change both in 
the internal structure of armies and in 
the means of commercial transporta- 
tion. The army of 19 14 was founded 
on horses. As soon as it had detrained, 
its speed was reduced to a few kilo- 
meters an hour. Furthermore, nothing 
could have been simpler than its em- 
barkation and debarkation; at that 
time material was relatively light, 
only a few large pieces of artillery 
constituting an exception to the rule. 




Today the automobile is king. The 
army includes a large number of ar- 
mored cars, of which many are very 
large. Loading them on railroad cars 
requires many hours of hard work, 
while these mastodons travel on the 
roads at speeds higher than those of 
the mobilization trains, so long as they 
do not encounter any obstructions. As 
an example, and to fix in our minds 
the new conditions of the problem, let 
us say simply that a mechanized divi- 
sion, with all its elements, men, arms, 
ammunition and the engines of all 
sorts which are needed for fighting and 
for bringing up supplies, requires a 
stretch of 1 80 kilometers of highway. 

Paralleling this mechanical trans- 
formation of the army, and even more 
rapidly than it (for the army has 
really only followed the movement, 
and has not led it), in all countries the 
transportation of persons by road has 
been developed, as has that of mate- 
rial. It is useless to dwell upon this 
fact, which is itself the evidence. 
Nowhere, however, has this move- 
ment been so marked as in Germany 
since the day when that power decided 
to rearm. Three years ago trucks of 
more than eight tons capacity did not 
exist. Today you can see trucks of 
fifteen tons on the German roads, pro- 
vided with trailers with six wheels; 
and, according to information which I 
believe to be exact, within two years 
(that is to say, when the construction 
of the system of automobile highways, 
of which more anon, is sufficiently 
well advanced) we shall see trucks 
with fifty ton trailers. At the same 
time one should note that the manu- 
facturers are receiving orders for mo- 

tors of 300 or even 400 horsepower for 
trucks to anticipate this development. 
Finally let us note a characteristic 
figure of the strengthening of the army 
of industrial vehicles beyond the 
Rhine; the sales of heavy vehicles in- 
creased from 1 5,000 to 40,000 between 
1 93 1 and 1934, while in France they 
dropped considerably. 

For what reasons have our neigh- 
bors thrown themselves into the con- 
struction of such powerful equipment ? 
Is it to provide their factories with 
work? Evidently not, for the building 
of vehicles of lighter tonnage would 
have solved the problem fully as well. 
Is it to satisfy their love for the co- 
lossal? In part perhaps, for Germany 
has always liked to astonish the 
world. Is it for peace or for war? We 
shall shortly see. 

In any case equipment like this can- 
not make use of ordinary roads. In 
France the Government has limited 
the weight and capacity of vehicles 
because automobilists complained about 
the way they blocked the roads; no 
one has asked if the problem was not 
wrongly put, and if from examination 
of the facts one ought not rather to 
conclude that our roads are too nar- 
row. That in any case is the reasoning 
of the Germans. Thus to enable the 
enormous vehicles whose construction 
he envisaged to travel freely. Hitler 
has not hesitated to resolve upon the 
construction of a system of automobile 
highways requiring the expenditure of 
20 billions of francs. These new roads 
will provide two lanes, each from 
seven and one-half to twelve meters 
wide, one for outgoing traffic and one 
for incoming. They are separated by a 
space four meters wide and planted with 
hedges to stop the glare of headlights. 
Drivers traveling on one of the lanes 




are never dazzled by the cars on the 
other. These highways have bridges 
where the thickness of the concrete is 
sometimes as much as sixty centi- 
meters. They have no raised ap- 
proaches, no grade crossings; they do 
not go through a single town. Only the 
former imperial routes and the ap- 
proaches to large communities join 
them, and these by means of ramps 
which lead the vehicle on to the auto 
highway parallel to the direction of 
the traffic and without disturbing it in 
the slightest. The men employed on 
the construction of the automobile 
highways numbered 38,600 on the 
first of July, 1934, and had increased 
to 71,234 by November of the same 
year. At present they are estimated at 
1 50,000. 

By the spring of 1936, 600 kilo- 
meters will be open to traffic and 1,160 
will be finished before the end of the 
year. For the following years they are 
planning to continue the work at the 
rate of 1,000 to 1,500 kilometers a 
year. The complete program (7,200 
kilometers) will thus be completed in 
five or six years. Is it solely to give the 
unemployed work? Is it for peace or 
for war that our neighbors, who are in 
open financial difficulties but also, let 
us not forget, openly engaged in re- 
building their army, are throwing 
themselves into such a gigantic under- 
taking.'' The plan for laying down 
German automobile highways is going 
to force us to answer. What can we 
say for certain ? 

I . That, first of all, there is a large 
concrete highway parallel to the 
Franco-Belgian border, comparable to 
those railroads which we built behind the 
lines in 1917. This great concrete high- 
way (Diisseldorf Mainz Frankfurt 
Speyer Stuttgart Munich) extends 

four antennae toward the frontier: Co- 
logne ^Aix-la-Chapelle; Mainz Saar- 
briicken; Speyer Saarbriicken; Speyer 

2. That another concrete highway 
of the same sort (Stettin Berlin 
Frankfurt-an-der-Oder Breslau 
Gleiwitz) runs to the Polish frontier, 
with an antenna to Danzig and East 

3. That internal communications 
between these highways, useful at the 
start for mobilization purposes, are de- 
signed to permit the transportation of 
necessary forces between the eastern 
and western frontiers, as the opera- 
tions demand, as well as communica- 
tions with the Baltic. They include 
two great lines: i. Berlin Hanover, 
with three branches from the Baltic 
toward Liibeck, Essen and Frankfurt- 
am-Main. 2. Breslau Leipzig, with 
two branches, the one to Frankfurt- 
am-Main, and the other to Nuremberg 
and Munich. Finally they are planning 
to construct around Berlin a belt of the 
same sort 1 80 kilometers long, to keep 
traffic out of the capital. 

Think of the power of such a trans- 
portation system! On these routes of 
the future, and indeed of the present, 
trucks, each carrying thirty men and 
traveling two abreast at a constant 
speed of sixty kilometers an hour and 
spaced fifteen meters apart, would 
make it possible to transport 72,000 
men an hour, assuming that half of the 
trucks are used for material. No more 
slow embarkations nor tedious stops in 
railway stations; not even 'bottle 
necks ' are to be feared. For each high- 
way is large enough to permit three 
vehicles to travel on it side by side, and 
to pass without difficulty any vehicle 
which has broken down. The mecha- 
nized weapons of the army can be 




shifted from the right wing to the left, 
from one theatre of operations to an- 
other with a speed unheard of before. 
The speed of maneuvers can be in- 
creased tenfold without increasing in 
proportion the difficulties of supply; on 
the contrary, the Hitler Government 
estimates that the use of the highways, 
thanks to the perfection of their plan, 
to the quality of their pavement, and 
to the uniformity of the speed that one 
can make on them, should in time of 
war permit a saving of 30 per cent on 
gasoline, of 40 per cent on tires, and of 
25 per cent on repairs. 


Alongside the reorganization of its 
army the Hitler Government has now 
been pursuing for three years a reno- 
vation of its transports, founded at 
once on the construction of rolling 
stock of vast capacity, and on laying 
down, at great cost, a system of com- 
munications. For this reason, in case of 
hostilities the railroad will probably be 
reserved for supply purposes, and to 
provide what commercial transporta- 
tion is necessary to maintain the na- 
tion and keep the factories running. 
As for the old system of routes, it will 
be confined to an auxiliary role, for- 
warding toward the auto highways 
vehicles loaded at the mustering places 
and then distributing them when they 
leave the highways, according to the 
demands of the military operations. 

These new ideas have scarcely pene- 
trated in France, and they are only in 
a germinal state here now. In our coun- 
try, so permeated with general ideas, 
we have apparently for some time been 
hesitating (for fear, perhaps, of the 
conclusions to be drawn from it) to 
duplicate the developments across the 

border. In any case, our policy has not 
been influenced; it has actually been 
strengthened in the opposite direction 
of that of the lessons from beyond 
the Rhine. 

In our budget for 1936, the credits 
granted for highways have been re- 
duced to 233 million francs, while 
those for railroads have been increased 
to 1 45 million francs. Last year the 
Minister of War placed a part of his 
appropriation at the disposal of the 
Office of Public Works for the purpose 
of improving the suburbs of Paris! All 
our activity is directed toward im- 
proving our old system of highways. 
They are, to be sure, planning to con- 
struct sooner or later a large commer- 
cial highway from Paris to Lyon and a 
road from Calais to Basel of the same 
sort, of which a few kilometers should 
be finished this year. No plan for au- 
tomobile highways has been set up or 
even envisaged. 

Furthermore the auto highway is of 
no interest except as it makes possible 
the use of adequate vehicles. A larger 
highway and heavier vehicles such 
is the German scheme. Ours consists, 
on the other hand, of adapting the size 
of our trucks to the present capacity of 
our roads. A recent decree law has just 
reduced their width from two and 
one-half to two and one-third meters, 
while Germany was taking the very 
opposite measures. At the same time 
we limited our trucks to fifteen tons, 
so that their useful load could not pass 
eight tons. This was a very injudicious 
measure, even from the point of view 
of the coordination of rail and road 
which is recommended, since this load 
is less than that of our freight cars. 
Finally, to cover the railroad deficit 
we have imposed a surtax on those 
who use the roads, whether for com- 




mercial or for private purposes. The 
result of this policy may be seen in the 
following figures. 

Our production of trucks, of which 
our national defense is in such great 
need, continued to decline, going in 
the last five years from 52,000 to 
18,000 vehicles, while in all the other 
countries it has been increasing. We 
find ourselves, then, faced with two 
opposing theories : a wholly new one 
our neighbors' and a classical and 
conservative one our own, founded 
on the idea of cooperation between 
railroad and highway systems im- 
proved according to the interests of 
peace times. 

But how can we reconcile this last 
with the new organization of the 
army? Have we given thought to 
the time which will be consumed in 
loading and unloading the new motor- 
ized engines of war ? Have we visual- 
ized on our roads a modern division 
passing the most modest of convoys ? 
Can we envisage without shuddering 
the passing of two columns of auto- 
mobile trucks, even small ones? How 
will it be possible to move certain 
kinds of artillery whose weight some- 
times exceeds 26,000 tons and whose 
turning requires 14 meters? What 
blocking of traffic would the least nar- 
rowing of the route cause us, as, for 
instance, when passing through a 
village, a city, or a grade crossing? 
We know, alas, how numerous these 
last still are in our Eastern region, 
despite the public works programs 
undertaken to do away with them. 


A change of method is necessary, 
then. One always has the right to won- 
der just how it can be reconciled with 

keeping the budget in balance. This is 
a point with which the Hitler Govern- 
ment scarcely concerns itself, but 
which with us still preserves, and 
rightly, all its value. Now whatever 
may be the future intentions of Ger- 
many, one has every reason to fear 
that she will employ her system of 
roads at a given moment for offensive 
purposes. Are we going to abet this 
policy by linking ours to it on the pre- 
text of assisting commercial relations 
between the two countries? Evidently 
not. Since we are determined to await 
the enemy behind our fortifications, 
our auto highways ought not to pass 
that zone; and there is the first econ- 
omy we can make. We can also content 
ourselves with organizing the north 
and northeast fronts, neglecting that 
of the Alps, which does not, at the 
moment, present more than a second- 
ary interest. But it is necessary for our 
armies to be capable of moving rapidly 
in all directions between Calais and 
Basel. A great highway behind the 
fortified zone, doubled with an auxili- 
ary highway on the front between Le 
Havre, Paris and Dijon, with three 
or four antennae connecting them, 
would be sufficient. Besides, they could 
be easily adapted to commercial pur- 
poses in time of peace. 

The total expense to envisage would 
be of the order of five or six billions. 
This is obviously a considerable sum. 
It would, however, increase gradually, 
and would be in part recovered via 
the unemployment funds. For no kind 
of work requires so much hand labor. 
About 75,000 unemployed men would 
find work on it. Finally one can hope 
that the establishing of an intimate 
contact between the workers on the 
road and the public officials analogous 
to that which the General StaflF created 




with the directors of the railway 
companies, and which had such fruit- 
ful results, would make it possible to 
find a solution for this distressing 
problem, a solution which does not, 
at first sight, emerge. 
But such a question exceeds the 

limits of this study, which has no other 
purpose than to throw light on the new 
set-up beyond the Rhine. To measure 
its dangers, to face it that is the role 
of the public officials. In the final 
analysis the question rests with the 
Supreme Council of National Defense. 

II. Hitler's Secret Police 
By A Special Correspondent 

From the Manchester GuarJian, Manchester Liberal Daily 


.HERE is a widespread belief that 
the terror in Germany is no more than 
incidental to the National Socialist 
dictatorship. This belief is entirely er- 
roneous, for the terror is an integral 
part of the system. The terror is com- 
ing to be exercised more and more ex- 
clusively by the Secret State Pohce, 
commonly known as the 'Gestapo' 
(an abbreviation of Geheime Staats- 
polizei) or the * Gestapa ' (an abbrevia- 
tion of Geheimes Staatspolizeiamt) . 

According to a law newly enacted, 
the head of the Gestapo is the Prussian 
Premier, General Goring, who is also 
Speaker in the Reichstag and Minister 
of Aviation. The General decides upon 
the special tasks of the Gestapo in 
consultation with the Minister of the 
Interior, Dr. Frick. The actual Chief 
of Police is Himmler, a former school- 
master, a man of great charm, an able 
organizer, and completely ruthless. 
Even a year ago the methods of the 
Gestapo were amateurish. But during 
the past year the organization has be- 
come more proficient. It is now one of 
the most efficient instruments of 
tyrannical power in the world. 

It is directed by a Central Board 
{Zentrahtelle) in Berlin. This board is 
made up of Himmler 's own office and 

of the following principal departments 

{Hauptabteilungen) : 

I. Principal department for the 
supervision of transport and com- 
munications on land and water. This 
includes spying on employees and 
workmen on the railways, tramways, 
and so on. 

1. Principal department for the 
supervision of the illegal activities of 
Communists and Social Democrats. 

3. Principal department for the 
supervision and control of all persons' 
and organizations that do not belong 
to the National Socialist party, espe- 
cially of persons who belong to the 
former Center, Nationalist, People's, 
and Democratic parties. 

4. Principal department for the 
supervision of the National Socialist 
party, of all affiliated organizations, 
and of all clubs and associations that 
have had to accept the Gleicbscbalt- 
ung (absorption by National Socialist 
bodies). This department also sees to 
the protection of leading persons in 
the State and in the National Social- 
ist party. 

5. Principal department for de- 
fense against economic, industrial 
and military espionage. 

These departments have their ' Fed- 
eral Boards ' {Landesstellen) in each of 
the Federal States. 




The following sub-departments 
{Unterabteilungen) are independent of 
the Federal Boards, and are affiliated 
to the Central Board: 

1. Sub-department for the super- 
vision of emigres. 

2. Sub-department for the super- 
vision of aliens and ' Staatenlose.^ 

3. Sub-department for the control 
of letters, telegrams, telephone calls 
that pass between Germany and the 
outside world. (Letters and telegrams 
are liable to be opened and telephone 
calls to be overheard in Germany 
without an order from a judge or a 

4. Sub-department for the super- 
vision of political suspects. 

5. Sub-department for the super- 
vision of political opponents in the 
Federal police. 

This last department exists because 
the dictatorship is not sure of the ordi- 
nary police, who, in the days of the 
Republic, contained numbers of Social 
Democrats as well as members of the 
Center and Nationalist parties. The 
special task of the department is to be 
informed by means of spies and agents- 
provocateurs about any disaffection 
that may exist among the police forces 
of the Federal States. 


Affurther special department is the 
Beobachtungsabteilung (observation de- 
partment), which, attached to the 
Central Board, is subdivided into the 
following departments: 

1. General department for public 

2. Department for the supervision 
of the S.A. (Brownshirts). 

3. Department for the supervision 
of the big factories and industrial 

The general department (No. i) has 
a special importance. It exercises a 
close vigilance over the entire popula- 
tion of Germany through the millions 
of members of the National Socialist 
party. It is the duty of every member 
to report any signs of disaffection to 
his superiors. This duty is often 
ignored, but National Socialists who 
take it seriously are numerous enough 
to form a close network of spies all 
over Germany. 

The most important of these spies 
are the Blockwarte, the counterpart of 
the 'house commandants' in Russia. 
Each one is held responsible for what- 
ever happens in the block of flats or in 
the row of houses entrusted to his 
supervision. He is expected to know 
the political opinions of every inmate. 
The general department also includes 
the 'Intelligence' {Nachrichtenabteil- 
ung) of the S.S. (Blackshirts), which 
exercise a special supervision over the 
National Socialist party. 

In touch with the Gestapo is the 
Air Defense League {Reichslujtschutz- 
bund), to which everybody in urban 
Germany has to belong. It exists not 
only for defense against air-raids but 
also for controlling the opinions and 
activities of the population. The 
Lujtschutzblockwarte supplement the 
work of the ordinary Blockwarte, and 
the musters, drills, cellar and house in- 
spections, and so on, that are ostensi- 
bly carried out for the sake of disci- 
pline and safety in case of air-raids 
provide unlimited opportunities for 
spying and eavesdropping. 

The department for the supervision 
of the S.A. (No. 2) is intended to de- 
tect the disaffection that has existed in 
the S.A. ever since the disillusionment 
of the first year of the dictatorship, 
and more especially since June 30, 



1934, when so many of the S.A. lead- 
ers were executed. 

The department for the supervision 
of factories (No. 3) has a very large 
staff of officials and agents. These 
agents, often workmen themselves, 
mix with employees and workmen. 
Many of them are members of the 
Shop Councils {Vertrauensrdte) , and 
often talk in hostile terms of the dic- 
tatorship, thus acting as decoys. Many 
of them have begun * illegal ' or ' under- 
ground' movements, pretending to be 
Communists or Socialists, and they 
circulate illegal literature, so as to 
detect all who are willing to join such 

This department is also concerned 
with the prevention of sabotage as well 
as with industrial counter-espionage. 

A special force attached to the 
Gestapo is the Feldjdgerei, a kind of 
gendarmery, which was organized by 
General Goring. Its members are 
chiefly of the gangster type. It is used 
for raids, for wholesale arrests, and for 
actions that may have a dangerous 

There are several so-called Special 
Commandos {Kommandos zur beson- 
deren Verwendung). Some of them con- 
sist of only a few men. They take part 
in all kinds of political actions and 
exist inside various other organiza- 
tions, including Government depart- 
ments. Some of these Commandos 
exist even outside Germany. One of 
them was drafted to Wuppertal, where 
it conducted part of the inquiry in 
preparation for the Wuppertal trial 
which was described in the Manchester 
Guardian on February 5. 

The Gestapo keeps a large number 

of women who act as spies and propa- 
gandists. They are to be found in 
cafes and night clubs as well as at 
balls and banquets attended by for- 
eign diplomats. 

A vast amount of political informa- 
tion collected by the Gestapo accumu- 
lates in Hitler's private office {Privat- 
kanzlei), which is directed by an old 
associate of his named Bouhler. 

Affiliated with the Zentralstelle of 
the Gestapo, but not under its control, 
is the bureau of the Chief Party Mag- 
istrate {Oberster Parteirichter), which 
is directed by Major Buch. This 
bureau can strike at the most influen- 
tial persons. Major Buch took a lead- 
ing part in the executions of June 30, 
1934. The bureau of the leader of the 
National Socialist party, Hess, also 
has a special department called a 
Liaison Staff {Verbindungsstab) for the 
special control of the party bureau- 
cracy and of the delegations which the 
party sends to foreign countries from 
time to time. 

The Gestapo also has agents in 
London, Paris, Prague, Vienna and 
other capitals. These agents are largely 
resident members of the National 
Socialist party (every member of that 
party is a potential spy) and nonde- 
script persons, many of them women. 

A good deal of spying done by Ger- 
man agents outside Germany is ama- 
teurish, but some of it has become 
very efficient. The Gestapo keeps a 
dossier of every notable person in Lon- 
don and elsewhere who is regarded as 
hostile to the National Socialist dicta- 
torship. The information in the dossier 
is as a rule surprisingly accurate, de- 
tailed, and up-to-date. 

.1 Ui-JSH^' 

and Kings 

Here are psychologists* explanations 
of wars and constitutional monarchies. 

I. Paranoia and War 
By Roger Money-Kyrle 

From Life and Letters Today, English Literary Quarterly 


.HERE is a certain biological in- 
compatability between aggressiveness 
and gregariousness; for aggressive ani- 
mals are seldom able to cooperate in 
groups. Yet evolution favors both 
characters and has succeeded in com- 
bining them in man. Among the ex- 
tinct races of the world, some may 
have been less aggressive and others 
less gregarious (e.g., perhaps Homo 
Neanderthalensis) than ourselves. If 
so, they were stamped out by our own 
ancestors' unique capacity to co- 
operate for war. 

But the military virtues, which 
possessed such great survival- value in 
the earlier history of our species, seem 
largely to have lost their function and 
to have become a menace rather than 
an instrument of progress. An ex- 
cessive increase in population can be 
checked by other means than war, 
and biological improvement can be 
secured more efficiently by eugenic 
propagation than by the group-battles 
of the past. Moreover not only have 
our lethal weapons become incom- 

parably more destructive but our cul- 
ture has become more complex and 
therefore vulnerable. Thus, if we con- 
tinue to exercise our capacity for 
group-aggressiveness, our civilization 
may very easily collapse. 

If, as the utilitarians maintained, 
man were really a rational egoist 
intelligently pursuing his self-interest, 
an era of peace and prosperity would 
almost certainly emerge. For he would 
recognize that neither wars nor revo- 
lutions paid (only a very small section 
of the population rationally expect to 
benefit by them), and substitute a 
spirit of compromise for the unyielding 
group-enmities that have become dis- 
astrous for those who win as well as 
for those who lose. This spirit 
whether due to enlightened self-inter- 
est, or humanitarian sentiment, or a 
mixture of the two is, in fact, the 
ideal of the Liberal movement in the 
widest sense of the word. It has sought 
to avoid civil or international up- 
heavals by concessions between classes 
or nations. It has raised the standard 




of living of the masses, done some- 
thing to establish ethnological bound- 
aries between nations, and inspired 
the ideal of self-determination. But 
although Liberalism was fashionable 
for a while, becoming almost every- 
where at least the official creed, it was 
never whole-heartedly accepted by 
the world at large. Now its existence 
is precarious even in this country, 
and in many places it is already dead. 
Not only have parties to impending 
conflicts failed to make concessions to 
prevent them; the concessions that 
have been made have not decreased 
the danger as much as might have 
been expected. Thus sickened by the 
negative results of what seems to them 
a futile and dangerous sentimentality, 
political parties are everywhere com- 
peting for dictatorship and nations 
for a preponderance in arms. Wars 
and revolutions remain a standing 
menace and periodically recur, in 
spite of abundant proof that neither 
of them pays. The utilitarians, there- 
fore, were wrong. Man, collectively 
considered, is not a rational egoist 
intelligently pursuing his self-interest; 
he is much more like the homicidal 
maniac who uses his intelligence to 
justify (or rationalize) a periodic lust 
for blood. 

This conclusion, to which the im- 
partial sociologist must come, is con- 
firmed by psychoanalytical research. 
The modern pathologist has discov- 
ered elements in our species that pre- 
clude him from describing us as 
rational or indeed as wholly sane. The 
isolated individual may seem reason- 
able enough, but his latent madness is 
periodically manifest in his behavior 
as a member of a group; for the human 
group is liable to the eruption of char- 
acters exactly paralleled by the symp- 

toms of the paranoiac. The typical 
paranoiac suffers from delusions of 
persecution and may become homi- 
cidal if he is not restrained. He imag- 
ines he has been injured or threatened 
where no injuries or threats exist; he 
imagines false causes for the injuries 
he has actually sustained, imputing to 
the deliberate malevolence of others 
what is due to accident or to his own 
neglect. He therefore feels quite jus- 
tified in hating his supposed ene- 
mies in return, in conspiring against 
them and in taking the offensive 
measures he believes necessary to his 
self-defense. He behaves, in fact, ex- 
actly like an aggressive and uncom- 
promising nation, ever jealous of its 
prestige and ready to declare war on 
the slightest provocation, or a political 
party, over-sensitive to the real or 
imagined grievances of its members 
and always dreaming of a revolution 
to secure its ends. 

The basic mechanism of paranoia 
is 'projection:* the malevolence, which 
the sufferer sees in others, is really in 
himself, but he disowns it and imputes 
it to someone else instead. In the same 
way, even the best of us sometimes 
impute to others the emotions we 
repress. The old view that we are all 
born normal (with, at most, the germs 
of future troubles) and that some of 
us become insane has been reversed. 
To the modern psychologist, we are 
all born mad and some of us grow 
sane. Thus * protoparanoia,' like the 
original forms of other insanities, is 
normal in the child. In the early 
period, he can tolerate no disappoint- 
ment; frustration tends to make him 
as savage as a hungry wolf. But his 
hate is incompatible with his need for 
love, so that he disowns and 'projects* 
it, and develops a phobia of some ani- 




mal instead. Few, if any children, 
entirely escape phobias of this kind. 
At some period or other in their lives, 
which may be long or short, they are 
terrified of being left alone; they feel, 
however much their reason may re- 
assure them, the presence of the tiger 
under the bed. The existence of a 
paranoiac phobia of some sort is 
guaranteed by their necessity to pro- 
ject their own aggressiveness. 

In the process of outgrowing his 
phobia the child tends to identify him- 
self with the animal he is afraid of. He 
tries to master his anxiety by develop- 
ing a fresh aggressiveness to deal with 
the aggressiveness he has projected. I 
remember a child of two who refused 
absolutely to go near a certain tree- 
stump on the ground that it was, or at 
least contained, a Hon. But in a few 
days he began to pretend that he was 
himself a lion and, after a little prac- 
tice in this new role, acquired suffi- 
cient courage to growl at the lion in 
the tree stump and finally to attack it 
outright. The adult paranoiac never 
outgrows, or regresses to, this mental 
level. He first disowns and projects the 
lion (i.e., the homicidal tendencies) 
within himself and then feels justified 
in reabsorbing it in order to deal with 
an imagined danger in the external 


The savage preserves the insanities 
of childhood in simple and easily 
recognizable forms. He is perpetually 
haunted by devils in animal or human 
shape and he pretends to be a devil in 
order to chase them from his camp. 
The mechanism is the same, and the 
psychological anthropologist has no 
difficulty in recognizing in the devils 
the personification of the savage's own 

repressed desires; they are lecherous 
and cannibalistic and form a reposi- 
tory for all that might otherwise dis- 
rupt the group. Moreover, the savage 
is often suspicious and hostile towards 
strangers, whom he tends to identify 
with devils, and this attitude, rather 
than economic necessity, would ap- 
pear to be responsible for his tribal 

The paranoiac relics in the civilized 
individual are less easy to detect; but 
the difference between us and the 
savage is not so flattering as we sup- 
pose. Our thought appears more ra- 
tional, but this is sometimes only be- 
cause we have taken more trouble to 
cover up our tracks; we rationalize 
our actions, inventing motives we 
approve whenever they are really 
determined by motives we disown. 
We have discarded the theory that 
justice should be retributive. But 
most of us secretly rejoice in the pun- 
ishment of criminals especially those 
who commit robbery with violence, or 
who are cruel to children or dogs 
and would be rather disappointed if 
they were painlessly reformed in- 
stead; for the criminal is a convenient 
object on to whom to project our own 
sadism, which we then feel justified in 
readopting as our attitude towards 
him. We have ceased to believe in and 
to hate the devil or to burn his sup- 
posed allies, but most of us have our 
pet aversion and are at least less tol- 
erant and sympathetic towards others 
than we should be if we never pro- 
jected upon them the defects that in 
ourselves we most dislike. 

The civilized individual, so long as 
he remains an individual, would never- 
theless pass muster as kindly and 
comparatively sane. But he carries 
within him all the brutaUty of the 




jungle, which he must continually 
repress. Many people among them 
often those whose external behavior 
is most mild are dimly conscious of 
the struggle, of the unrelaxed effort to 
keep themselves in hand. To these a 
threat of war may come as a positive 
relief. At least they have an outlet for 
their unconscious hate. They project 
upon the enemy their repressed ag- 
gression and in a typically paranoiac 
manner attribute to him every evil 
that is normally latent in themselves. 
Then they can feel justified in admit- 
ting their own aggressiveness as neces- 
sary to self-defense. Soon others con- 
tract the same disease, for of all 
emotions suspicion and hatred are 
perhaps the most contagious; there is 
little check upon the delusion when it 
is widely held. Thus a war- fever may 
spread like wildiire through a whole 
nation and deprive it of all capacity 
to judge the issues on their merits. 

During the early stages of a war, 
the whole people seem possessed by 
an extraordinary elation. It is not only 
that they have an outlet for their 
archaic aggressiveness; there is also a 
freer outlet for their love. Within the 
group, all discord seems to disappear; 
it has been diverted to the enemy and 
has made room for a spirit of com- 
radeship and mutual loyalty which is 
sometimes almost ecstatic. War brings 
out what civilized people regard as 
good as well as what is bad. But the 
individual's sense of loyalty to the 
group usurps the functions of his con- 
science and justifies acts that he would 
condemn as criminal if he were alone. 

Thus man is an aggressive animal 
with a slightly paranoiac strain; and 
since even his loyalties are partly 
founded upon a common hate, human 
society tends to spUt into mutually 

antagonistic groups. The antagonism 
starts on pure suspicion or, if there is 
a real cause, its importance is enor- 
mously exaggerated. But suspicion 
soon breeds offensive actions to wipe 
off imaginary insults, or because of a 
supposed necessity for self-defense. 
What was originally a delusional 
cause of conflict tends to become real. 

We are all familiar with those verti- 
cal and horizontal cleavages in society 
that give rise to antagonisms between 
nations or classes and end in war or 
revolution. But even where the group 
enmities have a less tragic outcome 
they can be extremely inimical to 
progress. So long as the attitude of 
paranoiac suspicion, with which na- 
tions or classes regard each other, 
continues to cloud debate, no question 
can be considered solely on its merits. 
With the technical knowledge now at 
our disposal we ought to attain a 
standard of prosperity far in excess of 
the dreams of earlier utopists; but the 
gap between the potential and the 
actual remains immense. The eco- 
nomic problem of distribution may be 
difficult. It may not be easy to devise 
a currency system by which incomes 
will be always sufficient to purchase 
everything that can and should be 
made, nor to adjust markets between 
nations to their mutual benefit. But 
if such questions could be freed from 
national or party bias faf more prog- 
ress would certainly be made. 

Moreover, we owe to the paranoiac 
strain in our nature a certain emo- 
tional stupidity which makes us over- 
look the natural and often avoidable 
cause of our misfortunes. To the 
primitive man, the lightning is the 
thunderbolt of Jove and the earth- 
quake the uneasy stirrings of some 
Titan; no calamity occurs but by the 





act of some will, either human or 
Satanic. Since, therefore, he attributes 
the drought to the anger of the rain 
spirit, instead of damming up his 
rivers he sacrifices a taboo breaker or 
an incarnation of his god. His so- 
called cultured descendant may know- 
that the winds, the sea, and the earth 
behave in accordance with the equa- 
tions of physics; but he still nearly 
always attributes his social misfor- 
tunes to the malevolence of others. In 
this he is, of course, often to some 
extent correct. But the paranoiac 
strain within him biases his judg- 
ment. He therefore tends to neglect 
such material factors as the currency 
system and concentrates his spleen on 
a human enemy, who in all prob- 
ability is suffering, with the same 
stupidity, from the same trouble as 


To be fair to man we must admit 
that his vices are to some extent a 
by-product of his virtues. If the child 
had no need of love he would not dis- 
own his hate towards his family, 
which thwarts as well as cares for him, 
and project it upon fictitious lions and 
wolves. If the savage had no need for 
companionship with the larger family 
of his tribe, he would murder his fel- 
lows upon the least provocation in- 
stead of projecting his aggressiveness 
upon devils and strangers. And if all 
adult Europeans were wholly mis- 
anthropic, they would never cooperate 
for war. 

Man's paranoiac disposition may 
evjen be explained on Darwinian lines. 
In order to survive the struggle for 
existence, it was necessary for him to 
be both gregarious and aggressive. 
Without his paranoiac capacity for 

projection, these incompatible char- 
acteristics could hardly have been 
combined so well. Thus what to a 
logician must be judged as a rational 
defect was in no small measure re- 
sponsible for the preeminence of man 
among the animals and perhaps also 
for that of the white races among men. 
But evolution failed to bless the 
human group with a superb capacity 
to fight without at the same time 
cursing it with an inner necessity to 
do so even when there is nothing to be 
gained. Other species have owed their 
rise to characters that, under changed 
conditions, have brought about their 
fall. Natural selection operates with 
conditions as they are; it has no pre- 
vision and cannot be blamed if its 
past favors now impede our further 

Having diagnosed, if only super- 
ficially, some of the psychological 
impediments to the emergence of the 
Golden Age, it is natural to consider 
whether there are any therapeutic 
measures to recommend. Is the bur- 
den of our repressed aggressiveness 
too great for us permanently to bear, 
and are we doomed from time to time 
to lose our individuality in paranoiac 
groups in order to find an explosive 
outlet for our hate in war? Or can the 
aggressiveness be diverted into more 
useful channels? Can it be prevented, 
or cured? 

To Freud, if I interpret him cor- 
rectly, human aggressiveness is in- 
evitable; if its external manifestations 
are repressed it only turns inwards 
and gives rise to the suicidal impulses 
of depression. But the external mani- 
festations are not necessarily homi- 
cidal. Savages hate devils as well as 
strangers, and if the revival of a 
medieval credulity were possible, man- 




kind might yet be united in a common 
detestation of the Powers of Darkness. 
Even in our present irreligious age, 
animistic conceptions still influence 
our feelings and, where they do not 
impede our thoughts as well, may 
form the basis of useful sublimations; 
thus scientists and engineers find in 
their contest with nature a Prome- 
thean outlet for their repressed ag- 
gressiveness. Possibly, as Professor 
Flugel has suggested, this outlet will 
become more general with the growth 
of education, until mankind is united 
in a common eflf"ort to master this 
diabolic world, which seems so ruth- 
lessly indiflPerent to the sorrows it 
inflicts. But if aggressiveness is in- 
destructible, it is likely to be long 
before humanity finds in the mere 
inanimate a sufficient object for its 

Some of Freud's disciples are more 
optimistic. To them aggression is not 
so much an autonomous impulse as a 
reaction to frustration, so that it 
could be, at least theoretically, re- 
duced. At first sight this view is 
encouraging to those who believe that 
strife can be prevented by domestic 
or international concessions. Never- 
theless the results of a merely benevo- 
lent legislation or diplomacy are 
disappointing. Hardly is the tension 
eased at one point than it reappears 
elsewhere. At best the danger is post- 
poned rather than abolished. Simi- 
larly in the individual paranoiac if 
one set of suspicions is allayed by 
mere reassurance, another set soon 
develops in its place. 

The psychoanalytic explanation of 
the partial failure of liberal conces- 
sions is that they only remove the 
conscious causes of group-aggressive- 
ness, leaving the unconscious ones 

untouched. The conscious causes, such 
as, in the domestic sphere, inequalities 
of wealth and, in the international 
sphere, the existence of alienated 
populations, derive a great part of 
their psychological importance from 
unconscious associations with infantile 
frustrations that have been forgotten. 
So long, therefore, as the aggressive- 
ness resulting from these remains, it 
will augment the irritation evoked by 
any conscious cause and tend to find 
new rationalized outlets whenever the 
old ones are removed. Thus groups 
are apt to behave like cantankerous 
children who are never satisfied with 
what they ask for, because these 
things are only symbols of the objects 
of an unconscious wish. 

If the aggressiveness of nations is 
partly determined by the frustrations 
of the nursery, it would seem worth 
while for pacifists to devote some of 
their eflforts to decreasing educational 
restraints. But the traumatic frustra- 
tions of infancy cannot be avoided 
altogether. The fury of the baby in his 
tantrums is alternately projected and 
introjected, growing stronger at each 
rotation of the vicious circle, until he 
has peopled his world with, or become 
possessed of, devils which may plague 
him all his life even though they are 
unconscious. If so, he will be free from 
depression only when he can project 
them upon an external enemy, and 
he will therefore be likely to become 
an active member of some paranoiac 
group. The probability of character- 
ological accidents of this kind could 
probably be reduced by greater tol- 
erance to children, but only to a 
limited extent. 

Though early traumatic experiences 
cannot be prevented altogether, much 
could be done to remedy their more 




serious effects. To do this on a scale 
large enough to guarantee the sanity 
of nations would involve providing 
some sort of psychoanalytic help for 
all children who were in need of it. To 
suggest that psychoanalysts should 
be provided for every child who was 
neurotic may seem fantastic for per- 
haps all children at least pass through 
a neurotic phase; but in the middle 
ages it would have seemed fantastic 
to suggest that teachers should be 
provided for every child who could 
not read. At present psychoanalysts 
are rare; but their science is barely 
forty years old. In another half- 
century educational committees may 
have begun to appoint them to deal 
with the mental hygiene of their 

schools. At first only those children 
who display some obvious intellectual 
inhibition or emotional defect will be 
treated. But once the scope has ex- 
tended so far, it will almost certainly 
grow wider until every child is helped 
to understand and to outgrow those 
early fears on which the irrational 
hatreds of the world are ultimately 
based. Before this happens, our civi- 
lization may perish, destroyed by the 
warring groups, and what enlighten- 
ment the present age has won may be 
stamped out by the superstitions that 
thrive in a barbaric culture. But if it 
manages somehow to survive a few 
more centuries, it may have learnt to 
protect itself, for all time, against the 
danger of collapse. 

II. The Psychology of Constitutional Monarchy 
By Ernest Jones 

From the New Statesman and Nation, London Independent Weekly of the Left 


HAT renders the problem of 
government so very difficult is man's 
constantly double attitude towards it, 
the fact that his attitude is always a 
mixture of two contradictory sets of 
wishes. On the one hand, he has very 
deep motives for wishing to be ruled. 
Feeling unequal to the task of con- 
trolling either his own or his neighbor's 
impulses, and longing to shift the 
responsibility for so doing, he demands 
some authority who shall shoulder 
the main part of this burden. On the 
other hand, as soon as the restrictions 
of authority are felt to be oppressive, 
he is impelled to protest and clamor 
for freedom. In an ordered society 
these two sets of impulses have to be 
coordinated, though in a constantly 
fluctuating rather than in any static 

form. At times either set may become 
predominant. When a people's sense 
of helplessness, of inferiority arising 
from guiltiness, becomes unbearable, 
there arises a passionate clamor for 
a 'strong' dictatorial government, 
whether of the autocratic or socialistic 
variety; while when a thwarting of 
personal initiative is felt to be intol- 
erable, there is a call for revolution 
which may attain a murderous in- 

Modern psychology well recognizes 
that these shifting attitudes in the 
outer world mirror the constant con- 
flict and instability in man's inner 
nature, the to and fro surges between 
the expressing and the restraining 
of his fundamental impulses. It is 
noteworthy that each side of the con- 




flict may be depicted in either ignoble 
or laudatory terms. We may speak of 
the divine call to freedom, one of the 
noblest impulses in man's nature, as 
well as of his tendency to unrestrained 
and brutal license. On the other hand, 
the controlling tendencies may as- 
sume the form of sheer persecution 
and hateful thwarting of life as well 
as the confident self-control that 
ranks as one of the highest of our 
civic virtues or the acceptance of 
God's will so characteristic of the 
greatest saints. 

It is also well recognized that this 
dichotomy of man's nature expresses 
itself most vividly in the child's rela- 
tion to his parents the famous CEdi- 
pus complex. In the deeper layers of 
the mind the attitudes persist in their 
old child-parent terms, though in 
consciousness they may have been 
superseded by more complex ones, 
such as Herbert Spencer's Man Versus 
the State. No psychoanalyst would hes- 
itate, on coming across the person of 
a ruler in a dream, to translate 'ruler' 
as 'father,' and he would be at once 
interested in the way in which the 
subject's conscious attitude towards 
the ruler was being influenced by his 
underlying attitude towards his father. 
Mostly one should replace the last 
words by 'the underlying fantastic 
attitude towards his father,' remem- 
bering that in the child's imagination 
his father is either far more benevolent 
or far more cruel than most fathers are 
and always more magically powerful 
and wonderful than any father is. It is 
the persistence in the unconscious of 
this element of magic belief that ac- 
counts for the recurrent irrationalities 
in people's attitude towards a Gov- 
ernment, e.g., that blames it for all 
misfortune and imputes to its wicked- 

ness the non-appearance of an im- 
mediate Utopia. 

Growing up signifies that the early 
sense of dependence on the parent 
(let me say 'father,' tout court), both 
real and imaginary, is replaced by a 
proper independence and self-reliance 
without any need for violent repudia- 
tion or destruction; also that the 
insoluble conflict between affection 
and parricide is replaced by an atti- 
tude of friendhness combined with a 
preparedness to oppose if need be. 
And any satisfactory solution of the 
general problem of government must 
include, among other things, a corre- 
sponding advance in the relations be- 
tween governing and governed. I hope 
now to be able to show that, whatever 
its deficiencies may be, the success of 
the constitutional monarchy experi- 
ment is essentially due to the respects 
in which this advance has been 


The experiment, or idea, starts with 
the assumption that, just as princesses 
cannot be abolished from fairy-tales 
without starting a riot in the nursery, 
so is it impossible to abolish the idea 
of kingship in one form or another 
from the hearts of men. If people are 
emotionally starved in this way, they 
invent sugar kings, railroad kings or 
magic 'bosses.' The idea 'then boldly 
proposes: let us reserve a king par- 
ticularly to satisfy the beneficent 
elements of the mythology in man's 
ineradicable unconscious that will 
enable us to deal with the more trou- 
blesome elements. This is how it is 
worked out. 

The essential purpose of the device 
is to prevent the murderous poten- 
tialities in the son-father (i.e. gov- 




erned-governing) relation from ever 
coming to too grim and fierce an 
expression. To effect this the idea of 
the ruler is 'decomposed,' as mythol- 
ogists call it, into two persons one 
untouchable, irremovable and sacro- 
sanct, above even criticism, let alone 
attack; the other vulnerable in such 
a degree that sooner or later he will 
surely be destroyed, i.e., expelled 
from his position of power. The first 
of these, the King, is the symbolic 
ruler, one not directly responsible 
to the people; the second, the Prime 
Minister, is the functional ruler, 
exquisitely responsible. With these 
precautions a safe outlet is available 
for the parricidal tendencies; they 
may come into action in a form that 
excludes physical violence, and so 
long as they respect the taboo. Charles 
II would appear to have foreseen the 
coming arrangement when he wittily 
warded off the criticism of his epitaph- 
writing courtier with the words: 
T faith, that's true, since my words 
are my own, but my deeds are my 

In return for the concession made 
by the populace in mollifying their 
parricidal tendencies the Government 
also, by being always ready to accept 
the verdict of an election, renounces 
the application of physical force. 
Under a constitutional monarchy no 
Minister labels a cannon, as Louis 
XIV did, ultima ratio regum. The im- 
portant point of this consideration is 
that the institution of limited mon- 
archy, so far from being simply a 
method of dealing with potentially 
troublesome monarchs, is really an 
index of a highly civilized relation 
subsisting between rulers and ruled. 
It could not survive, or even exist, 
except in a state that has attained 

the highest level of civilization, where 
reasoned persuasion and amicable 
consent have displaced force as a 
method of argument. 

When Thiers shallowly thought to 
define a constitutional monarch com- 
pletely with the words le roi regne 
mais ne gouverne pasy he was making a 
very considerable mistake. In a very 
deep sense such a King truly repre- 
sents the sovereign people. I am not 
here referring to any personal influence 
of a particular monarch, such as Mr. 
Gladstone had in mind when he said 
that knowing Queen Victoria's opinion 
told him the opinion of the English 

But what of the members of Parlia- 
ment, the accredited spokesmen of the 
people.'' They are temporarily so, and 
they may err. But when the significant 
words, le roi le veult, have been pro- 
nounced, it means in most cases that 
a permanent representative of the 
people agrees that their sovereign 
voice has been at least not grossly 
misinterpreted. The king is carefully 
shielded from all personal responsibil- 
ity and yet he represents the final 
responsibility and at critical mo- 
ments may have to bear it. 


The mysterious identification of 
King and people goes very far indeed 
and reaches deep into the unconscious 
mythology that lies behind all these 
complex relationships. A ruler, just as 
a hero, can strike the imagination of 
the world in one of two ways. Either 
he presents some feature, or performs 
some deed, so far beyond the range 
of average people as to appear to be 
a creature belonging to another world. 
We do not know if the Spanish were 



really impressed on being told that 
their Queen could not accept a gift of 
silk stockings because she had no 
legs; but it is easy to think of less 
absurd examples, from the deeds of 
the Borgias to the impertinences of 
Le Roi Soleil. Einstein has furnished 
us with a current example of another 
kind. In the face of such phenomena 
one gapes with wonder or with horror, 
but one gapes; one does not under- 
stand. Or, on the contrary, he may cap- 
ture the imagination by presenting to 
us, as it were on a screen, a magnified 
and idealized picture of the most 
homely and familiar attributes. 

It is here that the child's glorified 
fantasies of himself and his family 
find ample satisfaction. When the 
sophisticated pass cynical comments 
on the remarkable interest the ma- 
jority of people take in the minute 
doings of royalty, and still more in the 
cardinal events of their births, loves 
and deaths, they are often merely 
denying and repudiating a hidden part 
of their own nature rather than giving 
evidence of having understood and 
transcended it. With the others there 
is no trace of envy, since the illustrious 
personages are in their imagination 
their actual selves, their brother or 
sister, father or mother. In the august 
stateliness and ceremonial pomp their 
secret day-dreams are at last gratified, 
and for a moment they are released 
from the inevitable sordidness and 
harassing exigencies of mundane ex- 
istence. When to this is added the in- 
numerable 'homely touches* of roy- 
alty, the proof that they are of the 
same flesh as their subjects, together 
with signs of personal interest and 
sympathy with their lot, loyalty is in- 

fused with aflfection. And a constitu- 
tional monarch, so guarded from ad- 
verse criticism, has to have a pretty 
bad character before he arouses any. 
An autocratic monarch may be selfish 
and cruel, but kindliness and friendli- 
ness are the natural appurtenances of 
a constitutional monarch. 

The psychological solution of an 
antinomy which the experiment of 
constitutional monarchy presents is 
also illustrated in the mode of acces- 
sion of a new monarch. Is this ruler of 
his people, at the same time their 
highest representative, chosen by the 
people to fulfil his exalted office, or 
does he reign by virtue of some innate 
and transcendent excellence resident 
in him from birth? Do the people 
express freedom in choice or do they 
submit to something imposed on 
them ? The Divine Right of Kings was 
definitely ended in this country three 
centuries ago, but what of the right 
of birth? 

Here again a subtle compromise 
has been found. By virtue of an Act of 
Parliament, i.e., an agreement between 
people and monarch, the Privy Coun- 
cil, with the aid of various unspecified 
'prominent Gentlemen of Quality,* 
take it on themselves to announce that 
a son has succeeded to his father, and 
their decision is universally acclaimed. 
It is as near the truth as the people's 
supposed free choice of their func- 
tional ruler, the Prime Minister. In 
neither case do they actively select a 
particular individual; what happens 
is that in certain definite circumstances 
they allow him to become their ruler. 
Their freedom lies in their reserving 
the right to reject him whenever he no 
longer plays the part allotted to him. 



^orary ^ 

Here are four articles on the Orient. 
The first describes an experiment in 
adult education in rural China; the 
second concerns Outer Mongolia; the 
third tells of Japanese influence in 
Siam; and the fourth sheds some light 
on Japan's Pacific island mandates. 

ECHOES from 
the EAST 

An Oriental 

I. Young China Goes to School 
By A Special Correspondent 

From the Manchester Guardian, Manchester Liberal Daily 


'NE of the most remarkable social 
experiments to be found perhaps any- 
where outside Soviet Russia is being 
carried on in a group of mud-walled, 
sun-baked villages in the heart of 
North China. This is the Ting Hsien 
'mass education' project, where since 
1926 Dr. Y. C. James Yen and a group 
of Chinese scholars have been quietly 
working out a technique for the re- 
generation of the 340,ocx),ooo peasants 
who live in China's rural areas. 

Though overlooked by most histo- 
rians, China's mass education move- 
ment represents one of the few con- 
structive results to emerge from the 

Great War. When laborers were needed 
to do work behind the lines in France, 
the Allies recruited about 200,000 men 
from North China. Most of these were 
illiterate peasants and coolies from the 
provinces of Shantung and Hopei. 
Volunteers were required for welfare 
work with the 'Chinese Labor Corps,' 
as it was officially known, and one of 
the first to respond to the call was Dr. 
Yen, then a young student fresh from 
Yale and Princeton. 

Most of the laborers were desper- 
ately homesick, but could neither 
write letters nor read them; eager to 
know what was going on in the war- 




torn world around them, they were 
unable to understand the newspapers. 
Dr. Yen set out to remedy this situa- 
tion and devised a crude method of 
teaching Chinese characters which 
proved remarkably successful. Known 
as the 'thousand-character' system, it 
enabled thousands of coolies to read 
and write after a few months of study. 
Dr. Yen was so impressed with the 
possibilities of the idea that he re- 
solved to dedicate the rest of his life to 
the education of the millions of illiter- 
ate people in China who had had no 
opportunity for schooling. 

On his return to China after the war 
Dr. Yen stuck to his resolve with a 
tenacity which has marked him out as 
one of the great personalities of mod- 
ern China. Beginning with a large- 
scale mass education experiment in 
Changsha, the capital of Hunan prov- 
ince, a nation-wide movement to wipe 
out illiteracy was launched under his 
leadership in 1922. By 1929 approxi- 
mately 5,000,000 students, ranging in 
age from 10 to 60, were receiving in- 
struction in mass education schools. 
Official recognition was given to the 
movement when, following the estab- 
lishment of the Nationalist Govern- 
ment at Nanking in 1928, a mandate 
was issued directing that between 20 
and 30 per cent of the education 
budget of each province should be ex- 
pended on this type of work. 

But mere ability to read and write. 
Yen saw, was not enough. Something 
much more fundamental in the way of 
education was required. The problem 
of citizenship training must be tackled. 
Millions had now been taught to read 
what sort of reading should be put 
into their hands? What was to be the 
content of the new learning conveyed 
to these mentally liberated millions. 

and how could it be related to the 
everyday problems of the Chinese 
farmer? He saw the need for intensive 
study and practical experiment to dis- 
cover the answer to these vital ques- 
tions. It was to supply this need that 
the Ting Hsien mass education experi- 
ment was begun. 


Most people think of China as being 
composed of a certain, or more prob- 
ably in these days an uncertain, num- 
ber of provinces. But the province is 
largely an artificial division; the fun- 
damental unit is the ' hsien ^^ or county, 
of which there are nearly 2,000 in the 
whole country, and Dr. Yen argued 
that if you could create a satisfactory 
pattern of life in one selected hsien it 
might be duplicated through mass ed- 
ucation in the remaining 1,999. More 
than 300,000,000 Chinese live in dis- 
tricts very much like 'Tranquil County,* 
as Ting Hsien may be freely translated 
into English. Situated some 130 miles 
down the Peking-Hankow railway, it 
has a total area of 480 square miles 
and a population of 397,000 split up 
among 472 typical farming villages. 

Most of the inhabitants of Ting 
Hsien are peasants who farm the sur- 
rounding lands and live together in 
villages amidst an atmosphere of dirt, 
poverty, and ignorance. Their homes 
are floorless huts made of clay bricks, 
roofed with straw or in rare cases with 
tiles. The average family of five or six 
wrests a bare livelihood from about 
three acres of overworked soil. The 
average annual income per head in 
Ting Hsien, which is a moderately 
prosperous district, totals about two 
pounds sterling. 

Dr. Yen's reconstruction program 
aims primarily at the elimination of 




what he feels to be the four funda- 
mental weaknesses of Chinese life 
ignorance, poverty, disease, and civic 
disintegration. A determined attack 
upon these evils is being made along 
four main lines: cultural, economic, 
hygienic, and political. In this attack 
effort is concentrated chiefly upon the 
rural youth the young men and 
young women between the ages of 
fourteen and twenty-five, who con- 
stitute what Dr. Yen calls the 'stra- 
tegic section of the population.' It is 
estimated that there are some 70,000,- 
000 young folk in China who have 
passed the school age without ever 
having had an opportunity for school- 
ing. These are the citizens of the im- 
mediate future, and it is at them that 
the mass education movement now is 
chiefly aiming. 

From Ting Hsien's 400 odd 'peo- 
ple's schools' between 20,000 and 45,- 
000 young men and young women 
have graduated with an elementary 
education. These graduates have or- 
ganized themselves into 'alumni as- 
sociations' with the twofold object of 
continuing to learn through advanced 
courses in village leadership and of 
combining for community service. 
Alumni associations form the spear- 
head of the whole reconstruction ef- 
fort. They organize dramatic and de- 
bating clubs, operate wireless sets for 
the benefit of their village, chalk up 
news items on the village ' news-wall,' 
which takes the place of a daily news- 
paper, and mediate in lawsuits arising 
among their neighbors. Other alumni 
association activities include tree- 
planting, road-repairing, agricultural 
exhibits, and anti-narcotic and anti- 
gambling movements. 

While the main emphasis is placed 
upon the education of adolescents, im- 

portant experiments are being carried 
out among children of primary school 
age with a view to working out a suit- 
able curriculum based on rural needs. 
The village primary schools are or- 
ganized by squads in such a way that 
one teacher is able to handle as many 
as 200 children, devolving a large 
measure of responsibility for teaching 
and discipline on the squad leaders. 
Nothing amazes the visitor to Ting 
Hsien more than the earnest efficiency 
with which boys and girls not yet in 
their teens put smaller beginners 
through their paces. 

A corollary of the widespread il- 
literacy in China is the absence of a 
people's literature. China's literary 
treasures are written in a classical 
language which is entirely incompre- 
hensible to the masses. Hence if the 
people are to read Chinese literature, 
it must first be rewritten in an idiom 
they can understand. To this end well- 
known scholars have gone out to live 
and work in the rural districts of Ting 
Hsien. Through their efforts about 
four hundred volumes of popular 
literature have been published as part 
of a thousand-volume People s Li- 
brary. Cheaply but attractively printed, 
these booklets cost only a few coppers 


Even the poorest Chinese village in- 
variably has its open-air theatre. 
Under the direction of Dr. Hsiung Fu- 
hsi, a graduate of Columbia Univer- 
sity, old plays are being reconstructed 
with a modern ' twist ' and at the same 
time a new type of people's drama is 
being created. Among the plays so far 
produced two have proved to be spe- 
cially well adapted to rural audiences. 
One deals with the dual problems of 




usury and litigation, which are often 
closely related in the village life of 
China; the other, entitled Strong Son 
of the Plough, demonstrates that vil- 
lage people are burdened through 
superstitious fear with sufferings which 
self-reliance and courage might remove. 

Broadcasting is also being attempted 
at Ting Hsien, but here many difficul- 
ties are being experienced owing to the 
low level of popular education. Next 
to news of Japanese military activities 
market reports have proved the most 
popular item. The possibility has been 
demonstrated of manufacturing lo- 
cally a four-tube receiver with loud- 
speaker at a cost of a little more than 
two pounds sterhng. It is believed that 
with Government assistance a wireless 
broadcasting system reaching all parts 
of the country could now be estab- 

Ways and means of helping to im- 
prove the standard of living of the 
Chinese farmer are the main concern 
of a special economic division. A 
Farmers' Institute trains farmer-lead- 
ers to carry out simple projects for the 
economic reconstruction of their vil- 
lages. Those who complete the one 
year's course become 'demonstration 
farmers.' The results of successful ex- 
periments are reproduced by them 
under the eyes of the peasants. Where 
a farmer might remain unimjx-essed 
by a superior breed of pig raised on 
some remote experimental station it 
becomes entirely another matter when 
neighbor Wang gets an extra ten 
pounds of pork from an animal bred 
just on the other side of the fence. 

Rural industries are also studied. 
Among the 68,000 famihes in Ting 
Hsien approximately 40,000 persons 
are engaged in cotton spinning and 
nearly 30,000 in cloth weaving. An ex- 

perimental workshop has been estab- 
lished and through this are being in- 
troduced techniques and equipment 
calculated to lower production costs 
and increase output. The aim is to 
develop a system whereby these local 
industries can be carried on economi- 
cally and efficiently without divorcing 
the workers from agriculture. 

To enable the peasant to get a fair 
return for his labor about 300 village 
Self-Help Societies have been formed 
as a temporary measure. The two 
main functions of these societies are 
the borrowing of money on behalf of 
the farmer and the warehousing of his 
produce. Two leading Chinese banks, 
the Bank of China and the Kincheng 
Bank, are cooperating in this project. 
A more permanent economic develop- 
ment is the organization of what are 
called 'integrated cooperative socie- 
ties,' designed to serve the village in 
its major economic activities. An 
integrated cooperative society extends 
credit to its members for purchasing, 
production, and marketing, and pro- 
vides the structure by means of which 
these operations may be conducted on 
a cooperative basis. 


One person out of every three in 
Ting Hsien dies without receiving any 
kind of medical care. Of the 472 vil- 
lages, 252 can boast of little more than 
a self-made physician of the old type 
who prescribes drugs which he himself 
sells. In an effort to remedy this situa- 
tion a public health experiment is be- 
ing made with the object of evolving a 
practicable system of medical relief. 
The health system now being de- 
veloped is carefully adjusted to the re- 
sources of the district. 




It is recognized that the average 
Chinese village with a population of 
about 700 and not more than about 
10 available annually for medical 
purposes could not possibly support 
any known type of paid medical help. 
To meet this need a 'health worker' 
who has completed a ten-day course of 
first-aid training after having been 
recommended by the village elder for 
the position is appointed in each vil- 
lage. Equipped with a standard first- 
aid outfit containing twelve simple 
drugs, he or she is expected, in addi- 
tion to dispensing these remedies, to 
vaccinate against smallpox and to re- 
cord births and deaths. 

Within a mile or two of each of the 
472 villages there has been established 
a sub-district health station, where a 
qualified physician usually a gradu- 
ate of a modern-style provincial medi- 
cal school is on duty with a trained 
dresser or nurse. Here a daily clinic is 
conducted and the physician in charge 
also supervises the village health 
workers. Coordinating all these activi- 
ties is the main health center, equipped 
with a fifty-bed hospital and a labora- 
tory, where the training of doctors, 
midwives, and health workers is un- 
dertaken. The scale of the hospital 
equipment is deliberately reduced to 
what an average Chinese county might 
be expected to afford. There is no 
X-ray apparatus, and the furniture, 
including the operating table, is lo- 
cally made. Wherever possible mate- 
rials produced in Ting Hsien such as 
cotton cloth for bedding and bandages 
are employed in order to keep down 
overhead costs. 

By the end of 1935 a total of nearly 
100,000 almost the whole of which 
came from American sources had 
been spent at Ting Hsien over a period 

of six years. What is the good of it all ^. 
What are the chances of the experi- 
ment's becoming self-supporting ei- 
ther within the district itself or within 
China as a whole? How many of the 
2,000 odd hsiens in China are likely to 
be able to find the financial resources 
required for duplicating the Ting 
Hsien technique? Can the Ting Hsien 
experiment ever amount to more than 
a drop in the ocean ? 

For Dr. Yen the justification of the 
whole venture, apart from such prac- 
tical results as have already been 
achieved, lies in the stream of visitors 
totaling 5,000 in 1934 who journey 
to Ting Hsien from all parts of China 
and sometimes from abroad in order 
to study the work. High officials, edu- 
cators, social workers, and mission- 
aries, too, journey to see it. Scarcely a 
day goes by without a request coming 
in for a trained Ting Hsien worker to 
be sent out to the provinces. Many 
provincial governments now are send- 
ing as research fellows university 
graduates who spend a year or more at 
Ting Hsien and then return to apply 
the results of their learning. 

Dr. Yen admits that no ordinary 
hsien government could stand any- 
thing like the overhead expense which 
the Ting Hsien experiment repre- 

'But then,' he points out, *no hsien 
government would need to spend 
more than a fraction of what we are 
spending. What we are trying to do 
here is not so much to produce a model 
hsien as to try to develop a technique 
which can eventually be applied to the 
whole of China. Otherwise Ting Hsien 
would be useless. Experiment is al- 
ways costly. To find the cheapest and 
best technique is often expensive, but 
in the end it saves money all round.' 




II. Mongolia, Land of Contrasts 
By Eugene Schreider 

Translated from the Lumiere, Paris Radical Weekly 


.HE high wind raises clouds of dust 
that hide the sun, a reddish disk, 
without warmth, shrouded in shadow. 
Surprised by the tempest, the Mon- 
golian caravan seeks a refuge on the 
summit of the hill, towering solitary 
in the middle of the plain. Where it is 
higher there is less danger. The horses, 
admirably trained, lie down and re- 
main motionless. The men, accus- 
tomed to the whims of the malicious 
gods, hide behind the animals and 
wait patiently. 

Below, the dunes, animated by the 
breath of the desert, begin to shift: 
soon the landscape will be completely 
transformed. On top of the hill the 
men, huddling together in their ample 
black robes, feel the ground crumbling. 
Later, when they dare to open their 
eyes, they will stare with astonish- 
ment at a marvelous spectacle: a 
fortress with monumental doors, and 
massive towers, and inside of it re- 
mains of pottery, flint axes, human 
skulls. . . . 

Beneath the skies, again grown 
limpid, there is no trace of the hill, but 
the sandy soil yielding before the vio- 
lence of the hurricane will have 
brought into the open the remnants 
of a dead civilization a strange meta- 
morphosis which, however, is no sur- 
prise for the few explorers who venture 
into the land. Several such ruins are to 
be found in Mongolia, where the sand- 
storms, anticipating the archeologists, 
sometimes bring to light the historical 
treasures of the country. 

This episode, which under other 
circumstances would not have mat- 
tered to anybody beside the scientists 
interested in oriental antiquities, has 
recently furnished the pretext for a 
campaign which foreshadows some 
very grave events. The old fortress 
discovered a few weeks ago by some 
fur merchants lost in the desert con- 
jures up the old-time power of the 
Tunguses, an ancient warrior-tribe 
whose principal towns had once been 
situated where one now finds only the 
nomad shepherds. Like many other 
empires, this one of the first inhabit- 
ants of Mongolia has vanished with- 
out leaving behind it any traces but 
some awe-inspiring ruins. It is not 
likely that the present inhabitants of 
the country are the immediate de- 
scendants of this warrior-nation. At 
any rate, the military spirit left them a 
long time ago, and travelers assert 
that these natives of the arid steppes 
are the most peaceable of men. Has it 
not even been held that they alone 
practice true Buddhism as a rule of 
their everyday life? 

Nevertheless, the spirit of the 
Tungus warriors unceasingly hov- 
ers over the Mongolians, consecrated 
to great battles. It is a curious fact 
that there actually are some poor 
devils who feel the hearts of these 
almost legendary warrior-ancestors 
beating in their bosoms, and who 
wish to follow in their footsteps. To 
tell the truth, their fathers never 
dreamed of such a brilliant future. 




For centuries they peacefully culti- 
vated the soil or tended their flocks, 
chanting sad dirges. Millions of Mon- 
golians have lived in this manner, but 
it seems that national traditions, un- 
known until yesterday, require other 
things. Let the modern Tunguses 
leave their felt tents, let them mount 
their horses and learn how to re- 
conquer the vast plains of the North ! 
Thus minds are being mobilized in 
preparation for the next move of the 
Japanese army toward Central Asia. 
Already the ambanes and the khou- 
toukhtaSy secular kinglings and prince- 
bishops taking refuge at Khalgan, are 
beginning to stir: a crusade against 
the rebellious North that has driven 
them away from their old dwellings 
coincides perfectly with their own 
aims. Inner Mongolia has just pro- 
claimed its independence. The time 
has come to set Outer Mongolia free. 


And what is happening in the North 
beyond the Gobi Desert? Among the 
Khalkhas, the purest representatives of 
the Mongolian race, unknown to the 
western nations, a radical revolution 
is being silently reahzed, a revolu- 
tion against the small native poten- 
tates, who were forced to seek shelter 
in the south under the protection of 
the Japanese administration. 

If you will open even the most 
recent ethnological manual, you will 
read in it that Khalkhas live in misery 
and filth, and that their capital, Urga, 
is full of beggars who fight over scraps 
of food and die of hunger under the 
impassive looks of the passers-by. 
Certainly not everything is changed in 
this country that is almost wholly 
desert. In the distant corners of the 

steppes shepherds still lead a primitive 

But the capital offers a novel spec- 
tacle. Even the name of Urga has 
been destroyed: the present political 
center of the Mongolian Republic is 
now called Ulan Bator. In this city 
modern buildings are being erected 
side by side with traditional pise 
dwellings. In the streets, where once 
you had to make your way around 
filthy beggars, the oxen and the 
camels now wait patiently for auto- 
mobiles driven by skillful chauffeurs 
who have to resort to acrobatics to 
pass through the seething mob. The 
latest streamlined models are the most 

In the shops they sell wares which 
arouse the distrust of the old men, but 
which nevertheless find many buyers. 
Alongside of old rifles and bricks one 
finds phonographs and chocolate bars. 
The presence of many other common- 
place objects of that kind bears wit- 
ness to the great cataclysm that has 
taken place. This change affects not 
only the tastes of consumers; their 
whole manner of life is revolutionized. 

In order to be convinced of it, one 
has only to visit the stadium (Ulan 
Bator already has one). Athletes of 
both sexes train there, following the 
generally accepted rules. A few years 
ago nobody would have believed that 
Mongolian girls could be presented 
without fear to an enormous and en- 
thusiastic audience. At the present 
time they willingly engage in the 
perilous sport of parachute-jumping, 
which Russian instructors have intro- 
duced them to. The men fly the air- 
planes. What a contrast with the old- 
time Mongolia, which, like China (to 
which it was once bound), remained 
immobile for several centuries ! Watch- 




ing the exploits of their emancipated 
daughters, the mothers whisper tim- 
idly among themselves, but they do 
not protest. It would be no use even if 
they did. What could these old women 
do, when even the lamas, the guardi- 
ans of the faith, are as pleased as 
children at being able to turn their 
traditional prayer mills with ma- 
chines imported by an enterprising 

As for the government, it is in 
principle responsible to the 'Grand 
Urultai,' a sort of parHament of 
Soviet complexion. But there are no 

Communist organizations in the Mon- 
golian Republic. In Ulan Bator and 
other Mongolian cities there are cer- 
tain revolutionary organizations which, 
while they imitate Russian models, 
cannot be more definitely character- 
ized. In practice they exercise the 
prerogatives of authority, but avoid 
conflict with certain traditional pow- 
ers: for example, the lama clergy. 
Does this surprise you? It is, as a mat- 
ter of fact, the most eccentric aspect of 
this strange regime, which is so 
singular a mixture of Sovietism and 
theocracy ! 

III. Japan and Siam 

By Otto Co reach 
Translated from the Berliner tageblatt, Berlin Coordinated Daily 

/1.FTER losing territory to the Brit- 
ish and especially to French Indo- 
China, Siam had become small enough 
for the two European colonial powers 
to grant her, for the moment, an idyl- 
lic and independent existence. In re- 
nouncing for the present the partition- 
ing of the remaining parts of Siam, 
they had the advantage of remaining 
at a respectful distance from each 
other. They could hardly have fore- 
seen that Japanese imperialism would 
so soon be able to push into the gap. 
As a matter of fact, Japanese policy 
has been making stupendous progress 
in recent years in penetrating into 
Siam noiselessly and peacefully. The 
harmless buffer state suddenly threat- 
ens to become the scene of action on 
which the Empire of the Rising Sun 
may occupy undisturbed the most im- 
portant strategic positions in the 
struggle for hegemony in Asia. 
The leading Siamese circles quickly 

yielded to Japanese blandishments. 
They felt too much hemmed in by the 
close proximity of the French and 
British not to regard a veiled Japanese 
protectorate as the lesser evil when 
compared to mere toleration by the 
European colonial powers. To France 
Siam lost great parts of her northern 
provinces. England took her share 
from the southern ones. And besides 
this, Siam had to grant generous con- 
cessions within the possessions remain- 
ing to her. Thus her railroad system, 
her mines and her forests came under 
British control, while the gold mines 
in South Siam got into the hands of 
the French. 

In addition, it was easy for other 
foreign interests to gain a foothold in 
the weakened organism. The Belgians 
and the Danes were permitted to 
create and exploit various industrial 
developments. About 500,000 Chinese 
poured in and grabbed off almost all 




trade for themselves. No wonder, 
therefore, that the native population 
of about 13 million became almost 
totally dependent upon foreign eco- 
nomic interests. 

Japan especially crept into the 
confidence of the Siamese by ena- 
bling them, through supplying goods 
cheaply, to enjoy the advantages of all 
sorts of things which their limited 
purchasing power had formerly put 
beyond their reach. Last year this re- 
sulted in exports from Japan to Siam 
amounting to about 40 million yen, 
while Japan only imported to the 
value of 800,000 yen from Siam. But 
on the other hand Japan is now begin- 
ning to turn Siam into a cotton-produc- 
ing country of first rank, from which 
the Japanese textile industry will buy 
an unlimited quantity of cotton. 
American experts have stated that 
cotton-growing conditions in Siam are 
as favorable as in Texas. As Siam is 
very sparsely populated, at least one- 
third of the arable land is available for 
cotton-growing. Within the next six 
years Siam is expected to be in a posi- 
tion, under Japanese supervision, to 
export cotton to the value of about 
200 milHon yen, mainly at the expense 
of American exports to the Far East. 
Japan, as the main customer, would 
therefore be able to improve her trade 
balance with the United States, which 
has been mostly negative, on account 
of the decrease in the consumption of 
raw silk. 

The chance to turn Siam into a 
source of one of the most important 
raw materials will enable Japan at 
the same time to arm at a great rate 
this friendly country, so important for 
strategic purposes. In September the 
Chief of Staff of the Siamese army 
spent some time in Japan. Some time 

earlier a military mission of fifteen 
Siamese officers had been there and 
had placed an order for two battle- 
ships. In addition, a group of sixteen 
Siamese politicians, as well as a group 
of naval officers, has paid a friendly 
visit to Japan in the course of the last 
few months. 


The pro-Japanese attitude of the 
Bangkok population was more drasti- 
cally than tactfully revealed last year, 
when French, English and Japanese 
warships arrived in the port of the 
capital to compete for the favor of the 
Country of the White Elephant. A 
Japanese practice squadron had earlier 
announced its visit, whereupon Brit- 
ish and French fleets hastened to 
anticipate the Japanese. The French 
squadron appeared first: ten Siamese 
army planes took the air to greet the 
guests. Then the English ships arrived. 
This time 20 airplanes droned their 
welcome. Curiosity grew as to the 
reception the Japanese ships were 
likely to get. When they appeared, 
more than 100 airplanes flew out to 
meet them, circled above them, and 
expressed the general delight of the 
country over the arrival of the guests 
of honor. 

Phra Mitrakam Raksa, Siamese 
ambassador in Tokyo, recently re- 
ceived a representative of the greatest 
English newspaper in the Far East, 
the North China Daily News, pub- 
lished in Shanghai. 

'Why,' asked the interviewer, 'does 
Siam value Japanese friendship so 
highly, when Japan had restricted the 
import of Siamese rice so sharply?* 

'We have convinced ourselves,' said 
the ambassador, 'that Japan was 
forced to restrict the import of rice by 




her agricultural crisis. But Japan is 
doing whatever she can to compensate 
us for this in the future, and the pros- 
pects look excellent. Until now Siam 
has exported only small quantities of 
raw cotton, lumber and minerals; at 
present the greatest efforts are being 
made to open her natural resources, 
which have so far hardly been ex- 
ploited especially in the field of cot- 
ton-growing. Siam is an independent 
country and will not let herself be in- 
fluenced by countries at whose ex- 

pense Japan is expanding her trade 
in Siam. As long as Japan is able to 
supply us with better and cheaper 
products, we shall buy from her.' 

The self-possessed manner of this 
Siamese diplomat toward the repre- 
sentative of a publication which is 
authoritative for British public opin- 
ion in the Far East is certainly 
significant in showing how cocky even 
the small nations of Asia, under the 
protectorate of Japan, feel toward 
western colonial powers. 

IV. Japan's Island Wall 
By WiLLARD Price 

From the Spectator y London Conservative Weekly 

1 OLITE but frank suspicion marks 
the often repeated request of the 
League of Nations Mandates Com- 
mission that Japan should explain 
more fully what she is doing in the 
South Seas. She holds Micronesia as a 
mandate from the League. According 
to the terms of that mandate, she may 
not fortify the islands. And yet the 
Commission, in the words of a recent 
report, has 'noted particularly the 
disproportion apparently existing be- 
tween the sums spent on equipment of 
the ports of certain islands in the 
Japanese mandate and the volume of 
commercial activity.' 

There is reason for concern over the 
rumors of fortifications and naval 
bases. For these islands of the Japa- 
nese mandate are the most important 
from a strategic standpoint in the en- 
tire South Seas. The geographical 
facts of the case are not sufficiently 
realized. The old Great Wall of China 
is obsolete. Not only China, but all 
Asia, has a new Great Wall. It starts 

with the frozen Kurile Islands, ex- 
tends through the main islands of 
Japan, through the Bonins, then 
broadens to take in the 1,400 South 
Sea islands held by Japan under man- 
date from the League of Nations. This 
brings the Great Wall to the equator. 
The entire Asiatic continent lies be- 
hind this rampart. Because of the 
existence of it, America sends ships 
across the Pacific to Asia only by 
grace of Japan. The route of ships 
passing north from Singapore along 
the China coast is paralleled by Japa- 
nese battlements. The northern half of 
the Great Wall is forfified. Is the 
southern half? The doubt is more than 
ordinarily pertinent at present in view 
of Japan's demand for naval parity, 
her abrogation of the Washington 
Treaty, her resignation from the 
League and her policies in Asia. 

In order to get some light on the 
subject I have recently spent four 
months visiting the islands of the 
mandate. I come away with a clear 




conclusion of yes and no. No, there is 
no ground for suspicion as to fortifica- 
tions. Yes, there is every reason for the 
most grave concern as to the signifi- 
cance of these islands in the future of 
Asia. This amazing labyrinth, made up 
of the Mariana, Caroline and Mar- 
shall groups, numbers 1,400 islands 
worthy of the name and a total of 
2,550 islands, islets and reefs. It is 
2,700 miles wide and 1,300 miles deep. 
It is spread over a sea larger than the 
Mediterranean and Caribbean to- 
gether. It hugs the Philippines on the 
west, the equator on the south, and 
the 1 80th meridian, or International 
Date Line, on the east. Its airplanes 
could fly in ten hours to either Hong- 
kong or Singapore, in six to Australia, 
in three to the Dutch East Indies, and 
in two to the Philippines. 

The few foreign visitors to the is- 
lands, because of the difficulty they 
experience in gaining access to this 
region, naturally look for a violation 
of the mandate ruling on fortifica- 
tions. Not one, so far as I know, has 
reported the existence of fortifica- 
tions. I saw none, nor could any na- 
tives, even those most acidly critical 
of the Japanese regime, tell me of any. 
Japanese, to impress the natives, have 
been known to hint to them that forti- 
fications exist but the natives them- 
selves have not seen them. 

The Mandates Commission, noting 
that 1,500,000 yen was being spent on 
Saipan harbor, scented the construc- 
tion of a naval base. They have re- 
peatedly asked that a full explanation 
of the matter be made in Japan's next 
report. But each report (and that 
issued in the autumn of 1935 is no ex- 
ception) ofl^ers only a generalized 
statement, which strengthens the im- 
pression that Japan is willing that not 

only the natives but the foreign 
Powers should consider the islands as 
being not totally unprepared against 

The simple fact is that Saipan har- 
bor is the one important harbor that 
would be completely useless as a naval 
base. It is obvious to anyone who will 
sit swinging his legs over the edge of 
the new pier that the development is 
purely commercial. He can look across 
the lagoon, over the low reef, and 
across the sea for miles. Likewise a 
battleship miles away could look into 
and shoot into the lagoon. It is en- 
tirely exposed. If Japanese strategists 
were designing a trap in which to com- 
mit naval hara-kiri, they could devise 
nothing better than Saipan harbor. 

Commercially it will be invaluable. 
Our ship, for lack of such a harbor, 
anchored two miles from shore. A 
heavy swell was running and the trip 
to shore in a small launch through 
half-submerged reefs was precarious. 
Unloading and loading were delayed 
because of the roughness of the sea. 
Sometimes a ship must lie here for ten 
days before it can safely receive its 
cargo of sugar. 

Therefore a channel 90 metres wide 
and 1,600 metres long is being blasted 
through the reef, the lagoon is being 
dredged to greater depth, and a pier 
has been constructed so that a ship of 
4,000 tons may lie alongside. Sugar 
may then be loaded direct from car to 

The total cost of this operation, 
1,500,000 yen, seems modest in view 
of the fact that Saipan's annual export 
of sugar exceeds 10,000,000 yen. 

But there are other harbors which 
have not attracted the attention of the 
Commission because little or no money 
is being spent upon them. Money is 



not being spent because they are al- 
ready perfect, either as commercial 
ports or as sites for naval bases. While 
some of the islands are useless, others 
are perfect hiding places for warships, 
submarines and aircraft. Truk, for 
example, was born to be a naval base. 
It is not fortified, and does not need to 
be, for its myriad of high rocky islands 
in a forty-mile-wide lagoon, protected 
by a reef pierced by only a few pas- 
sages which could easily be mined, con- 
stitute a perfect weapon turned out of 
nature's own armament factory. 

At an exposed angle of the Wall 
stands Palau. Its position is most 
strategic. The Philippines are only five 
hundred miles away as the plane flies. 
The building of an airport on Palau to 
serve the Tokyo-Palau mail-line has 
started wild imaginings in the minds 
of some Filipinos. 

Palau harbor is as valuable a poten- 
tial naval base as Saipan harbor is fu- 
tile. Removed from the merchant-ship 
harbor, which is so small that it will 
accommodate only two vessels com- 
fortably, is a deep basin adequate for a 
fleet of at least fifty ships of good size. 
Its existence is not generally known 
but is, I presume, no secret. Offi- 

cials took me over it by launch 
and through the broad, five-mile- 
long channel which connects it with 
the sea. Occasional Japanese warships 
anchor in the harbor. Merchant ships 
are barred. There is no sign of refuel- 
ing bases or fortifications. Of course 
such would probably come into exist- 
ence with surprising alacrity in case of 

The harbor is flanked by the hilly 
island of Arakabesan on which is 
located the new airport. Palau is the 
westernmost and southernmost im- 
portant island, but lesser islands con- 
tinue the Great Wall to the equator, 
almost to the shores of New Guinea. 
At the equator the Japanese and 
Australian mandates meet. Australia 
itself is only a few days' sail beyond. 

Because of their key position, the 
islands are an invaluable protection to 
Japan as she works out her des- 
tiny upon the Asiatic mainland. The 
breadth, length and strength of Asia's 
new Great Wall somehow make the 
'open door' seem small and narrow 
in proportion. Japan's invitation to 
western Powers to keep out of China 
is immeasurably strengthened by this 

. . . And No Birds Sing 

On behalf of our song-birds I implore everyone to do his or her 
share. These birds will soon be breeding; are their nests to be torn to 
pieces and their young killed simply because we are indifferent to their 
fate? An English wood without an English squirrel is bad enough, 
but an England without her song-birds would be dreadful. 

L. W. Swanson in the Listener^ London 

\ Public Library -, 

Persons and Per'sfeaa^es 

Milan Hodza: Professor and Man of Action 
By Hubert Beuve-Mery 

Translated from the TempSy Paris Semi-Official Daily 

/\LWAYS kindly disposed toward professors, the Czechoslovak 
Republic now sees one at the head of its government. It is true that 
Mr. Hodza's capacities as a journalist, an organizer, and a politician 
surpass those of a professor. This taste for action and for organization, 
which seems to be the dominant trait of the Czechoslovakian President 
of the Council, has been developed under a triple influence: Protestant, 
Slovak, and Hungarian. Son of an Evangelical pastor, young Milan 
belonged to the Protestant Slovakian bourgeoisie a class which repre- 
sented the intellectual elements of the country and exerted some poHtical 
influence. Being a Slovak, he loved his small country passionately, and 
as a good Slovak, combined an innate eloquence with a fiery spirit 
which the passing years have not completely extinguished. In a Magyar 
school he learned good manners, social resourcefulness, and generosity. 

Mr. Hodza showed his talent for organization as early as 1897. He 
was no more than nineteen years old when he succeeded in uniting the 
Slovak, Rumanian and Serbian students of the University of Budapest 
in a close association an early prelude to the Little Entente. The out- 
come of this venture was not long in coming: he was soon invited to 
pursue his studies elsewhere; and accordingly he went to Vienna. Upon 
getting his doctorate he returned to Budapest, where in 1900 he founded 
a magazine called Slovensky Dentk. Soon compelled to suspend this 
publication, he launched in 1903 the Slovensky Tydentk^ a weekly which 
rapidly became the intellectual and political sustenance of the Slovak 
masses. In 1905 he was elected to the Budapest Parliament by the 
Slovaks of the Bak, a region which today belongs to Yugoslavia. 

The young deputy felt that he possessed the spirit of a leader, and he 
did not try to hide his ambitions. But he was too profoundly Slovak at 
heart to associate himself with the powers of the day. The question of 
destroying Austria-Hungary did not arise until much later, when the old 
empire had dug its own grave. For the time being his plans were much 
more modest. It was a question above all of securing autonomy for the 
non-Magyar population. The plan of action was based on two cardinal 
points: to struggle against the Austro-Hungarian dualism, which left 
the field free for oppression and to obtain the right of suffrage for the 

[134] THE LIVING AGE April 

Mr. Hodza carried on this double struggle ceaselessly, with all the 
vigor of his temperament, but also with all the mastery which his rapidly 
growing experience was developing in him. Was he an extremist or 
a moderate? A radical or an opportunist? Mr. Hodza was neither one nor 
the other; or, to be more exact, he was, and doubtless still is, both. Never, 
perhaps, had a citizen of the Dual Monarchy dared to speak about the 
Emperor as he did. In 1905, some time after his election, he wrote: 'The 
paternal heart of Your Majesty rejoices to see us supplying you faith- 
fully with money and soldiers; its tranquillity is not at all disturbed by 
our sufferings. . . . We are sure that Your Majesty's heart is nothing 
but a base calculating machine, only fit to determine the order in which 
you can juggle the nationalities'. . . . 

WHEN the Dual Monarchy was overthrown and the Czechoslovakian 
Republic proclaimed, Mr. Hodza, following his political instinct, con- 
tinued to alternate open attacks with subtle alliances. The first repre- 
sentative of the Czechoslovakian Republic in the Budapest government, 
he showed by his independent attitude that he had his own policy and 
that it did not behoove him to be treated as a mere functionary not 
even as one of the highest degree. Elected a deputy to the new Parlia- 
ment, he founded the Agrarian Party of Slovakia, where he at the same 
time organized the trade unions and agricultural cooperatives. At the 
end of two years, assured of his comparative independence, and not 
having any reason to fear that his personality would be overshadowed by 
the vast party machine, he allied himself with the Czechoslovakian 
Agrarians. Later he was to lead a bourgeois bloc in an attack upon the 
Socialists, an attack that he continued until the reprisals of the Left in 
their turn checked him and forced him for some time to adopt a humbler 

As a matter of fact, although accused of demagogy and of Agrarian 
Socialism, Mr. Hodza had often seemed a reactionary to the Czechoslo- 
vakian Socialists. He was one of the most effective opponents of the 
separation of Church and State. Against those in favor of centrahzation 
he asserted the necessity for decentralization, which the history of cen- 
turies imposed. Finally the fact that he was a partisan of the League of 
Nations did not make him fight any less vigorously against pacifism, 
which seemed to him at once empty and weakening, and likely to make 
the future of his country a dark one. 

If, to make sure, one asks him about his true political beliefs, Mr. 
Hodza answers willingly: *I am a conservative, but in the larger sense of 
the word. That is, I want to create before I conserve.' 

What does he mean by 'create' ? Perhaps a vast central party where 
Agrarian predominance will be expressed even more decisively than it is 


today. Perhaps, also, a new form of democracy, which will deserve the 
name of economic democracy. In spite of oneself, one thinks of certain of 
Mr. Benes's declarations . . . The Socialists and Agrarians might have 
been in violent opposition in the past; today they agree on more than one 
point. Their reconciliation is more than just a tactical move or a simple 
reflex of a lucid and generous patriotism. 

As Minister of Agriculture, Mr. Hodza succeeded in organizing and 
directing a cereal monopoly by appealing to a federation of producers 
and consumers and by demanding no more than a strictly limited guaran- 
tee from the State. The experience up to now has not been unfavorable. 
Mr. Hodza now dreams of extending the organization to the other 
branches of agricultural production. He is exerting pressure on the 
industrialists to induce them to enter upon a similar road. He is trans- 
forming the agricultural chambers; he intends to reorganize the National 
Economic Council; he is attempting to simpHfy and organize the ad- 
ministrative machine so as to achieve the greatest clarity and efficiency 
possible. In terms of such an evolution one foresees a Republic which 
some would call conservative and bourgeois, others SociaHst and perhaps 
also Corporative, although that word has never passed the lips of the 
President of the Council. 

But Czechoslovakia has more than economic problems to solve. 
It is also necessary to integrate the Slovaks into a national community, 
and Mr. Hodza is perhaps the only one who could achieve this task. It is 
also necessary to make more than three million Germans feel happy and 
free in their Czechoslovakian homeland a delicate problem which in 
1926 the future President of the Council had believed in great measure 
solved, but which the changes in Hitler Germany have since revived. In 
resuming this interrupted work, in performing the projected economic 
reorganization, in helping the realization of the idea, which is so close to 
his heart, of an association between the agricultural and industrial States 
of Europe in doing these things Mr. Hodza can count upon the confi- 
dence of the immense majority of his countrymen. Naturally there is no 
lack of obstacles. He will have to contend with the resistance, the rou- 
tine, and the jealousies of his own party, with the incomprehension and 
the suspicion of a good number of the Socialists. He will also have to 
resist the temptation to expand indefinitely the field of action of his own 
party at the expense of the other political organizations. But the gravest 
danger threatening him is perhaps the very greatness of the hopes placed 
in him, hopes which it is perhaps not in the power of any man to realize 

One must hope for the good of Czechoslovakia and the success of 
democratic ideas that the parties of the Left and of the Right will have in 
this difficult hour as clear a comprehension of their duties as that which 

[136] THE LIVING AGE April 

Messrs. Hodza and Benes have. If it is so, make no mistake: this lettered 
bourgeois, who knows how to speak to the simple folk, whose warm 
greetings quickly correct the first impression of austerity he gives, who 
speaks slowly, with his eyes half closed, as though he were pursuing some 
inner thought behind his glasses this man is not only the chief of an 
honorable Protestant family. Nor is he only a party member whom a 
political movement has unexpectedly carried to the top. Tomorrow he 
may very well be one of the new men of the new Europe. 

Albert Sarraut 

By Odette Pannetier 
Translated from Candide^ Paris Conservative Weekly 

JTlE MAKES one think of a Buddhist monk in an educational film, or 
a provincial notary who has come incognito to Paris to perform a mar- 
riage. He has the flat nose and the slanting eyes of the one, and of the 
other, the pompous air, the solemn bearing, and the passionate attach- 
ment to a bowler hat and a cane with a silver knob. 

He speaks slowly, weighing and reweighing his words, savoring 
them as he utters them. He has not yet exhausted the pride he experi- 
ences at feeling himself so discreet, so sensible, so intelligent. 

His great power lies in having a brother whom no one ever sees. 
You have to nave a radical convention, rife with threats and hidden 
traps, before you finally see him appear, tall, slender, round-shouldered, 
witn cheeks that are too hollow, cheekbones that are too pink, a mus- 
tache like a lightning-rod. Clemenceau used to say: 

'Albert Sarraut? Oh, yes, that's the one with the intelligent brother.* 

It is true that Maurice Sarraut is intelligent. Intelligent like all those 
who advise much and never act. Albert Sarraut is not particularly stupid 
either. And he is brave enough, too. He has proved this by fighting sev- 
eral duels. That was a long time ago. He has doubtless become more dis- 
creet since then. But in the trade of the musketeer one does not wait 
until sixty to retire. 

By a strange phenomenon this man, so brave in life, is in politics 
submissive and vacillating. His brother, who guesses all his sentiments 
with an almost feminine intuition, has become ror this weakling in search 
of support a sort of tender, intellectual Nanny. Whatever Maurice ad- 
vises him to do, Albert does. One has the power and the other exercises it. 

The two of them are great feudal lords. Radical and anti-clerical, 
whose domain comprises the entire countryside of Carcassonne and 
Toulouse. They rule their lands amiably but firmly. 




From time to time they notice among their Vassals' and 'serfs' a 
child, an adolescent, who deserves to *be somebody.' They ravish him 
away from the disconsolate mother, from the resigned, but proud, father. 
They make a Radical out of him. Whereupon the youngster betrays their 
hopes, and they feel lost, like a mother hen whose brood has run away 
to who knows what hazardous destiny. 

WHILE Maurice reasons and treats politics like a game of chess, Albert 
tends to make everything concrete in phrases which are destined, ac- 
cording to him, to survive for posterity. Everybody knows the most 
famous one, which dates from the time of the Poincare ministry, when 
Mr. Albert Sarraut was Minister of the Interior: 

'Communism that's the enemy.' 

That was the time when he dreamed all night of plots, bombs, at- 
tacks on Paris led by a Cachin or a Berthon, with their knives clenched 
in their teeth. 

From time to time some needy rascal, knowing about the innocent 
hobby of the Minister of the Interior, would come to see him, and on 
being announced would assume a reticent air, heavy with mystery: 

'I know where "they" meet. . . .' 

From behind gold-rimmed glasses the somber eyes of a mandarin 
gleamed with a million sparks. 

'Where? . . . Come, talk . . . I'll reward you . . .' 

The drawer of the desk would slide open, and the enchanted visitor 
would perceive a magic heap of crumpled banknotes, ready to be given, 
and good to take. 

Can Mr. Sarraut have signed a secret peace treaty with the Com- 
munists? The Humanite has taken his return to power very nicely. 
Nothing remains of the violent hatred of old. Doubtless it has ceased to 
be a good electoral plank. For either side. 

But has Mr. Sarraut also renounced the yellow peril? Have those 
two perils, the red and the yellow, disappeared, gone, taken flight like 
nightmares at dawn? From his long and useful stays in Asia, Albert 
Sarraut had brought back a haunting memory of the furtive, hidden 
hatred of the yellow-skinned man, obsequiously stirred up against the 
whites. If one went to see him during Poincare's regime at the soft hour 
of twilight, at the hour when the ministers take their sober recreation, 
one would find him bent over a map of Asia like a clairvoyant over her 

He would smile sadly, sigh a little, take off his glasses, put them on 
again, turn aside to spit, and predict with a monotonous voice the end 
of European civilization. 

Mr. Sarraut has renounced these preoccupations, which people create 

[138] THE LIVING AGE April 

for themselves in a period of prosperity in order to mollify fate by not be- 
ing wholly happy. 

Now he has again taken up his residence in the Place Beauvau. He 
has recovered his office with a small unconfessed joy, and the logs that 
smolder in the fireplace, and even the doorman, who had once crushed 
his fingers in the door of his carriage as he closed it. 

Again the canvases and the frames will be heaped everywhere in the 
Minister's room: against the walls and the armchairs, and in the little 
retreat where a Minister anxious to be clean even in the physical sense 
has the right to wash his hands. 

For painting is Mr. Sarraut's great passion. There is not an exhibi- 
tion to which he does not hurry. He will not leave Breughel except for 
Chagall, and only Derain can console him for the sad spectacle of a 
Renoir returning to America after having been sent over solely for the 
purpose of an exhibition. He loves painting with the lugubrious hunger 
of the poor devils standing with empty stomachs before a butcher's 
shop. This cold, formal, meticulous and bored man when you speak to 
him about painting displays the lyricism of a schoolboy let out on his 
spring vacation. And how touching and beautiful it is to hear him say 
almost piously: 

*I, who am a connoisseur of painting . . .* 

Let his ministers betray him: Modigliani will console him. Let Mr. 
Marcel Regnier object that there are only a few demonetized pennies 
in the treasury: he will find himself an obscure little painter of St. 
Denis with canvases which, it seems, would give a king courage on the 
eve of a revolution. 

NOW that he is the head of the Government he has become a sort of 
Grand Cham. He behaves like a man used to the bodyguards, to the 
reporters, to the magnesium lights, and to the crowd which shouts things 
which luckily one does not understand. He smiles a Httle; he does 'Bon- 
jour^ bonjour' with his hand; he does not see anybody; he marches on in 
his glory. People to right and to left are like two yielding g^ay walls in 
which one has neither the time nor the wish to recognize a friendly face 
or an afl^ectionate look. He passes and is gone. The State claims him, for 
he is the State. 

During the intermissions in his power, he has contracted a great love 
for the Cote d'Azur. One year he was seen at Juan-les-Pins ^when that 
place was not yet a perpetually turbulent and vulgar country fair. He 
was noticed because nobody could help noticing him. Coming from the 
north, from Toulouse, he was not familiar with the latest fashions. So 
one day the astonished public saw a man rushing into the casino, dressed 
in black, with a bowler hat on his head, carrying a cane with a silver knob 


as a beadle would carry a halberd. The tritons and naiads who were sun- 
ning their skin and hair almost died with laughter. Mr. Sarraut became 
purple in the face. They saw him disappear by a hidden staircase and 
then reappear on the beach where all alone at that hour he ran and 
stumbled, a baffled fugitive, silhouetted black against the yellow sand. 
The next year he took his revenge; as they say, *I remember it as if 
it were yesterday.' It was the sacred hour at the Miramar. Arrived a 
sea-wolf whose jersey shirt left his arms bare, and whose shorts revealed 
his shaggy legs. Around his neck was the red handkerchief of the locomo- 
tive driver. It was Mr. Albert Sarraut. 

LET US go back to the serious things: for example, the fate of France. 
Mr. Sarraut did not want to form his ministry. Three days before posing 
for the cameras of the whole world, he declared to his most intimate 
friends : 

'I don't know if Lebrun will call me, but I know one thing: under no 
circumstances will I form a ministry.' 

And then people intervened. Maurice, the brother-governess, Mr. 
Mandel, the little friends who wanted to get portfolios, Mr. Jacques 
Stern, who had adopted Mr. Sarraut's doormat as a place to sleep, Mr. 
Camille Chautemps, who wanted to extend his railroad ventures, and 
perhaps even Mr. Lebrun, who is quite capable of having a personal 
opinion if the circumstances demand it. 

Thus solicited Mr. Sarraut passed his hand across his brow several 
times with the gesture of a man with a headache whom five young 
ladies are begging to dance a polka with them. Then he said: 


But by that time all the press agencies had already spread the news. 
The next thing to do was to form the ministry in question. Mr. Sarraut 
had exhausted all his strength in that 'Yes,' which had so relieved Mr. 

Whereupon Mr. Mandel very obligingly put himself at Mr. Sar- 
raut's disposal. He called upon Messrs. Jean Zay and Guernut and Gen- 
eral Maurin; he relegated Mr. Paul-Boncour to a soft job of which, 
however, nothing was left but the shell. Without realizing it he played 
the role of Puck in A Midsummer Night's Dream. 

Mr. Sarraut, upon learning that his ministry was formed, was very 
happy indeed. 

'Have all the portfolios been distributed? All of them? Really?' 
he asked Mr. Mandel. 

For he is a very conscientious man. 

Mr. Mandel reassured him. Whereupon Mr. Sarraut went on his way. 
That very day a new exhibition was opening! 

[i4o] THE LIVING AGE April 

Darius Milhaud 
By M. D. Calvocoressi 

From the Listener, Weekly Oi^an of the British Broadcasting Corporation 

IVllLHAUD has always been regarded as the stormy petrel of con- 
temporary French music. He owes this reputation partly to the disturb- 
ances created by certain of his works: the Etudes for piano and orchestra 
in Paris in 1921 ; the final scenes of Cbristophe Colomb nine years later in 
Berlin. But he owes it also to his loudly proclaimed anti-Wagnerism, his 
anti-impressionism, his interest in ragtime and jazz, his love for the 
grotesque, the farcical and the outre ^ the part he played as an exponent of 
polytonality and as leader of the short-lived group known as Les Six. 
In actual fact, he is a remarkably alert, impulsive, industrious and versa- 
tile composer, who knows exactly what he wants, however bewildering a 
diversity of means he may have tried in order to achieve his aim. 

He was born in Provence, and is of Jewish parentage. In him the sur- 
face quickness and exuberance of the southern French works in associa- 
tion with the deep sensitiveness, the thoroughness, the enquiring mind, 
that are characteristic of the Jewish race at its best. His career began in 
one stormy period and continued, after the War, in another even storm- 
ier. When in 19 10, at the age of eighteen, he started his professional 
studies at the Paris Conservatoire^ Debussy was asserting his influence in 
spite of violent opposition, and Schonberg and Stravinsky were looming 
on the horizon. All three made their impression upon him. So did Alberic 
Magnard, a composer whose music, informed by austere ideaHsm, is not 
generally appreciated in France and remains practically unknown else- 

But more than any music, the writings of Francis Jammes and of 
Paul Claudel contributed to the forming of his outlook. Jammes' poems 
(of which he set many to music between 1910 and 191 8) confirmed his 
instinctive dislike for * the languid misty atmosphere of musical impres- 
sionism,' and revealed to him the poetry of everyday life, the charm of 
humble persons and familiar objects. 

He started on his creed unostentatiously enough, with a violin con- 
certo, a string quartet, a piano suite, an orchestral suite and settings of 
poems by Claudel to which Jammes had called his attention. In 1910 he 
began setting Jammes' play La Brebis egaree, which he finished in 191 5. 
It is a simple and a genuinely expressive work. Then he met Claudel, and 
out of their collaboration came a long series of works for the stage the 
satiric drama, Protee^ Orestie (Claudel's French translation of the 
iEschylus trilogy), the ballet L Homme et son Desir and Cbristophe Co- 


loml^. Poet and composer were in thorough agreement on all points; in 
their fondness for mingling the trite and the singular, the subtle and the 
coarse, reahsm and fantasy. Above all things, they both felt that ' music 
should never be such as to create an atmosphere in which everything 
happens as in a dream.' 

Dream in any form, and even introspection, is no part of Milhaud's 
scheme. He is far too interested in things as he finds them. Anything af- 
fords him a pretext for music-making. He has set Psalms to music, and 
poems of Coventry Patmore and Francis Thompson. He has also set 
technical descriptions of agricultural machines, and parts of a seeds- 
man's catalogue. He is interested in all the noises that human voices or 
instruments can make. In LHomme et son Desir he plays with no less 
than eighteen percussion instruments. Elsewhere he devises sequences of 
tone clusters, in which all the notes of one diatonic scale, plus maybe 
several from another, are included and duplicated in several octaves. 

His output is enormous. It includes operas, ballets, eight string quar- 
tets, six symphonies, about one hundred and fifty songs, cantatas and 
choral music, a viola concerto, a vioHn concerto, a variety of works for 
piano and orchestra, and half-a-dozen pieces for various other combina- 
tions. No doubt he has composed too much, relying on the prodigality of 
his own genius rather than upon his sense of criticism. Composition to 
him is a natural activity, and music simply a means of expression. He 
himself has declared that * the vitality of a work can depend only on the 
vitality of its melody: poly tonality and atonahty are of value only as 
materials in the service of the composer's sensitiveness and imagination.' 
Mr. Edwin Evans, however, has pointed out that he is also interested in 
* the chess-problem aspect of music, which provides an attractive field 
for the intellectual ingenuity that the Jews bring from the East.' 

But something of the fundamental simplicity which he learned from 
Jammes remains even in his most ambitious ventures. In the Poemes 
juifs he has achieved a soul-stirring eloquence with the simplest means. 

In his Jewish music he never aims at archaism. He is as little con- 
cerned with reconstitution (genuine or illusory) of the old types as with 
adapting traditional tunes to modern music. But the settings of songs 
and hymns, the Poemes, the Melodies populaires hebra'iques, and the little 
known but very fine and simple Prieres journalieres des juifs du Comtat 
Venaisson, express the fervor and impassioned spirituality of his race. 

His artistic creed is that in music nothing really matters except 
melody. He is not endowed with a particularly great capacity for creat- 
ing ample sustained melodies. But in most of his songs, and especially in 
the Jewish sets, he achieves genuine lyricism. It is in that domain and in 
chamber music that we may be sure of finding his work at its pithiest and 

A Tale of 
Two Cities 

These two sketches, both by Germans, 
point the contrast between the capi- 
tals of Nazi Germany and Red Russia. 

The Old 

I. Moscow Buys 
By Leo Lania 

Translated from the Neues Tage-bucb, Paris German migr6 Weekly 

riNEAPPLES! From Formosa!' 
My friend, a well-known dramatist, is 
enthusiastically waving the can which 
he has just purchased at the Gas- 

'What do you say to all these 
things we can get here now? You can 
buy everything in the Moscow stores 
now ^just look pineapple from For- 
mosa!' Triumphantly a young ar- 
chitect places the can under my nose. 

On the table there were big plates of 
sausages, cheese, ham and salads; 
there was pie and many kinds of cakes 
of alarming dimensions; candies, sand- 
wiches when I saw the enormous 
portions set before me, my appetite 
vanished. Finally hot frankfurters 
were served, Moscow's latest spe- 
cialty, held in particular esteem: 
400,coo pairs a day are consumed in 
the city, someone reported. 

The general enthusiasm for eco- 
nomic statistics seems to keep pace 
with the increase in production; no 
more than two years ago, drinking bad 
tea and eating poor bread, one got 
drunk on the figures of coal and iron 
production, on the dimensions of the 
new dams. A year ago it was the open- 
ing of the subway that made one for- 
get all one's difficulties. Today the 
report of Mikoyan, the People's Com- 
missar for the Food Industry, is the 
greatest sensation, and the figures on 
the consumption of butter, meat, 
coffee and canned goods, running into 
the millions, are discussed with de- 
light. Every conversation ends in the 
reports of eyewitnesses of this new 
store or that, of the dainties that can 
be purchased there. 

That evening, in the lobby of my 
hotel, I got into a conversation with 



an engineer who had just arrived from 
the country, and soon I was, as they 
say, 'in on things.' 

'What do you say?' he began. 'Do 
you know that you can now buy in 
Moscow * 

'I know pineapples from For- 

Moscow, the whole of Soviet Rus- 
sia, is making a rush for the luxuries 
which have suddenly come within 
reach after long years of need and 
privation. The foreigner who smiles at 
the sometimes naive enthusiasm of the 
Russians in these matters forgets two 
things; the tremendous sacrifices they 
had to make before they could enjoy 
the present rewards; and the extraor- 
dinary political significance of this 
imposing turn for the better. For the 
first time the individual is experienc- 
ing the concrete results of Soviet- 
planned economy in everyday things, 
in his private life. The worst is over. 
Things are on the upgrade. The 
consciousness of this blots out all 

Three years ago, on my last visit, 
every conversation moved around one 
theme: the coming war. Today there 
is more talk of war in every city of 
Europe than in the towns and villages 
of the Soviet Union. This does not 
mean that they underestimate the 
possibility, the dangers, of war the 
Party and the Government take care 
of that. But in all strata of the popula- 
tion the feeling of security outweighs 
the fear of war. 'They won't do us any 
harm. And if we have five more years 
of peace, a war will not even be able 
to threaten our economic progress 
seriously ! ' 

In this connection Kaganovitch is 
pointed to time and again. A year ago 
he took over the transport depart- 

ment, which had seriously lagged in its 
development; within a few months, 
with fantastic energy, he reorganized 
the railways. Today it may be said 
that a radical improvement of this 
vital part of Russian economy, so 
important in case of war, has begun. 
For example, in the sugar refineries, as 
late as 1932, workers stood idle 16.8 
per cent of the time, for the transpor- 
tation facilities were inadequate to 
keep coal, lime, and beets coming in. 
In 1933 the percentage rose to 18. In 
1934 idle time amounted to 2.5 per 
cent, and since the fall of 1935 not a 
single sugar refinery has had an hour's 
idle time which could be traced to 
transportation difficulties. Similar re- 
ports come from all branches of 

The streets of Moscow are changing 
from day to day. The opening of new 
stores, cafes, restaurants, changes the 
character of the streets even more 
than the modern ten-story hotels and 
Government buildings. Show-windows 
full of food and goods have brightened 
the gray monotony of the Moscow 
streets; the bright stores, open until 
midnight, and thronged with cus- 
tomers, do more toward increasing the 
joy of life and the feeling of hopeful- 
ness than the ablest statements and 
newspaper articles. 

As far as the quality of the goods is 
concerned, only a beginning has been 
made. The food compares favorably 
with that of foreign countries. There 
are dozens of different kinds of pastry, 
cheese and sausages. Every grocery 
store on Gorki Street, the former 
Tverskaya, carries as many delica- 
tessen goods as the biggest stores in 
European capitals. But the quality of 
clothing, shoes, and underwear is 
considerably inferior. And, despite 




new buildings everywhere, the hous- 
ing question in Moscow is almost as 
critical as ever. Even with plenty of 
good food, people still dress poorly, 
and the living conditions are out- 
rageous. Because of the tremendous 
overcrowding of the city, Moscow is 
the worst offender in this respect. The 
Government's decisions that in future 
no more factories are to be erected in 
the proximity of Moscow and that the 
city shall not exceed the five-million 
limit, coupled with the creation of big 
administrative and cultural centers in 
the provincial towns, will doubtless 
soon stop further influx into Moscow. 
But even so it will still be years before 
each Moscow citizen will have a room 
to himself. According to the schedule, 
the whole rebuilding and reorganiza- 
tion of the city will be completed in 
1945. The estimate is based on what 
one would formerly have called * Amer- 
ican' but must now call 'Soviet Rus- 
sian' methods. 

Until the beginning of this year it 
was not possible to answer questions 
about the living standard of Soviet 
Russians unequivocally. The wages 
and prices did not mean much because 
the hundred rubles of one worker had 
to be valued differently from those of 
another. Payments in kind always had 
to be taken into consideration in 
addition to wages (lunch, the ration of 
food and goods which the worker could 
purchase in his cooperative). In con- 
trast to these, the wages themselves, 
which he used for purchasing his 
further needs at incomparably higher 
prices in the open market, played only 
a supplementary and relatively un- 
important role. 

Since the first of January there have 

been no rations, and consequently 
there are no longer two different sec- 
tors of the Russian economy. The 
hundred rubles of every worker, peas- 
ant and employee represent the same 
purchasing power. There are still 
certain differentiations. One worker 
may work in a factory where the club 
serves a cheap lunch because the plant 
pays a grant for each man; another 
worker may not have the same privi- 
lege in his shop. In addition there are 
the bonuses which almost every worker 
receives for special accomplishments. 
Others work in their spare time 
engineers, architects, technicians, for 
instance and draw, besides their 
steady wages, extra and often very 
high bonuses for plans and projects. 

Even the wages themselves are not 
yet uniformly regulated. The transi- 
tion came too suddenly. It will take a 
few months before wages and prices 
are adjusted to one another. The 
tendency of prices to fall is clearly 
visible, while wages remain stable, and 
in some industries are actually in- 
creasing. (I myself noticed from week 
to week the falling prices in the Mos- 
cow stores and restaurants.) The in- 
come of writers, journalists, artists, 
actors, skilled engineers and techni- 
cians, and of the workers who exceed 
the normal output (Stakhanoflites) 
is particularly high, even compared 
with the still high prices. It has thus 
happened that some workers have 
been able, on account of the quickly 
expanding Stakhanoffite movement, 
to increase their output so much that 
they earn about a thousand rubles a 
month in addition to their 250 or 300 
ruble wage-scale. 

So far the Government has been 
unwilling to stop the full momentum 
of the Stakhanoffite movement, the 




impetus for a better and larger output, 
by increasing the production stand- 
ards and cutting wages. But here is a 
problem which will remain critical for 
the Russian economy as long as pro- 
duction remains insufficient to meet 
the tremendously increasing demand 
which results from the increased 
purchasing power of the population. 
One thing, however, is certain: the 
living standard of all strata of society 
is going up steadily and quickly. 

The stabilization of the ruble on the 
basis of five rubles to the dollar has 
not made any difference to the native. 
For the foreigner, however, Moscow 
has become the most expensive city 
in the world. If he enrers the Soviet 
Union as an Intourist traveler, having 
paid for his trip in foreign exchange, 
he gets the advantage of the old rate 
of exchange. But foreigners who live 
permanently in the Soviet Union (the 
personnel of the embassies, newspaper 
correspondents, business representa- 
tives), and who depend on remittances 
from their home lands, are in a difficult 
situation. The Torgsin stores, where 
foreigners could buy with foreign 
exchange at world-market prices, have 
been dissolved, and so they have to 
pay, like the Russians, fifteen rubles 
for a dinner and three to five rubles for 
twenty-five cigarettes. 

Here, too, the state of transition is 
reflected. The ruble will only gradually 
reach the purchasing power which 
accords with its inner value. But 
though this change may be unpleasant 
for individuals or for this or that 
stratum of the population, neverthe- 
less the Government has only followed 
its program consistently in stabilizing 
the ruble to reach a uniform wage and 
price system. 

The economic progress, the contin- 

ued increase of production; the con- 
quest of the machine by workers who 
were unskilled a few years ago a 
quicker and more thoroughgoing con- 
quest than even the most kindly 
disposed observers had thought possi- 
ble; the satisfaction in the agricultural 
sections at the end of collectiviza- 
tion one must admit that Soviet- 
planned economy has gained a decisive 
victory and that the new system is 
beginning to put its successes to the 
test. A new stage of evolution emerges, 
new perspectives and new problems 
come to the fore. 


In his statement, mentioned above, 
Mikoyan said, among other things: 
'Before the War ten kinds of cheese 
were produced in Russian dairies; at 
the moment we are making twenty- 
nine kinds. Next year we want to 
produce sixty or seventy different 
kinds of cheese. Why should we have 
fewer varieties than France.? We must 
not stay behind her. As yet not every- 
body enjoys cheese, but one has to 
develop the taste for it.* He continues: 
'Life is changing not only in the city 
but also in the villages. Our villages 
are different from what they used to 
be. They have stopped producing 
fabrics in the household, stopped 
wearing bast shoes and living on dry 
bread and kvass. Today the women 
from the villages wear city dresses; 
they buy perfume and fragrant soap; 
our villagers want to consume pre- 
served fruits, meat, fish and vege- 
tables. It is amazing how quickly the 
villagers have learned all this. But we 
shall see to it that they learn even 
more about it. We want our workers, 
collective farmers and employees to 
develop their taste so that they can 




change from simple products to better 
and more nourishing ones. It is for 
this purpose that we have to use all 
sorts of propaganda, and the best 
forms of advertising.' (In fact, a great 
number of Moscow printing houses are 
at present working to the limits of 
their capacity manufacturing book- 
lets, leaflets, etc.) 

The creation of new needs, the 
development and improvement of 
taste in food and clothing in short, 
the raising of the cultural standards of 
a nation of one-hundred-and-sixty 
millions who until recently lived under 
almost medieval conditions this revo- 
lution of taste, intellect and emotion 
which is rapidly following on the heels 
of industrialization now also pen- 
etrates into social and private life. It 
is a revolution far more incisive than 
that which found expression fifteen 
years ago in the laws about marriage, 
divorce, education, artistic creation. 
It is the transformation of peasants 
into workers, of workers into techni- 
cians, of illiterates into tractor drivers, 

and of harem women from Bokhara 
into managers of collectives. This 
change in the conditions of life, in 
volume and tempo, a change unique in 
world history, has, in its first stage, 
been external. In the ensuing years it 
will have to lead to differentiation of 
the masses, to individualization within 
the framework of SociaHst society. At 
the beginning of this process stands 
the propaganda for i6o varieties of 
cheese. What will be the further 
development, once the most urgent 
needs are satisfied? Two years ago, 
when it seemed doubtful whether the 
new tractors and the complicated 
machines would ever work, whether 
distribution under a planned economy 
would ever function, this question 
seemed a futile speculation. Today it 
demands a concrete answer. 

One works, one learns with reeling 
head, one still has little or no time; 
but the period of renunciation is over. 
One buys, eats one's fill, dances, one 
discovers private life. A new epoch 
has dawned in the Soviet Union. 

II. Berlin Revisited 
By Friedrich Sieburg 

Translated from the Frankfurter Ztitung^ Frankfurt Gwrdinated Daily 


OFTEN arrive in Berlin by the 
night train from western Europe, past 
the stations of the Stadtbahn^ from 
Charlottenburg to the Friedricbstrasse. 
The city rises slowly from deserted 
suburban streets, bare greenswards, 
dismal summer shanties, and brand- 
new small-home developments. It be- 
comes a canyon which forces into its 
own course the stream of life imping- 
ing from without, subjecting it and 
mastering it unsmilingly. A bit of park. 

the Tiergarien, provides one more 
chance to catch one's breath. A soft, 
purple haze hangs between the trees; 
intent riders are working out their 
horses; there is a glimpse of a water 
course; then the houses close in almost 
threateningly around the railway. 

Ready to get off, I stand at the 
window of my compartment, looking 
at the advertisements on the naked 
house walls, into the open windows of 
the backyard tenements, where people 




are dressing, and housewives are put- 
ting the feather beds on the balconies. 
The cross-streets slowly glide past my 
view; they resemble each other to a 
hair; their asphalt is covered with a 
fine moisture, into which the first cars 
have drawn long shiny trails. Every- 
where there stand milk wagons why 
are there so many more of them in 
Berlin than in other large cities? 
When it is spring time, the foreboding 
of buds lies like a soft green radiance 
upon the trees in the streets. 

My heart beats, half for joy, half 
for self-consciousness. I am glad to 
recognize the city again, but at the 
same time my heart is oppressed by an 
emotion that has not weakened in all 
the years of departures and reunions 
indeed, that may thereby have gained 
in clarity and force. No sooner do I see 
Berlin before me than I feel myself 
abruptly thrust into all the doubts, 
apprehensions, and problems that are 
at the heart of the German being. To 
be a German is a great destiny and a 
hard one, from which no one can es- 
cape who really loves his country. 
How great and how hard is felt most 
strongly in Berlin, in this city which, 
as it were, offers the keenest and most 
acute embodiment of German evolu- 
tion. The Germany that has already 
taken shape lies elsewhere; the future 
as hope, as will, and as danger 
lies here. 

No one could imagine that the city 
is a cross-section through Germany, or 
even a mirror focusing the wealth of 
the German peoples and regions. 
Berlin is at once less and more, for, 
failing to give a cross-section through 
our country, it gives one through our 
destiny. Like a flash they become 
visible, even comprehensible the 
suffering and conflict of our times, the 

predilection to struggle against chaos, 
to recognize the intrinsic value of the 
Movement, the close juxtaposition of 
endless problems with the briefest of 
programs in a word, the entire state 
of the German mind, so hard to grasp. 

Once upon a time the city in a 
cruel phrase was called non-being 
Hfted into being; should it not rather 
be called formlessness raised into 
form ? The form of a nation that up to 
now seemed to defy all form becomes 
palpable like a presentiment. As yet 
nearly all is rough stone, exposed to 
the charged air. But one can see where 
the chisel has been set and where the 
hard chips are springing off. 

The mood which beats against me 
every time in Berlin is a mixture of 
danger and hopefulness. Optimism in 
its most naive form lives in intimate 
connection with age-old fatalism and 
dark foreboding. If at every reunion 
the darkness prevails in my heart, it is 
because of the circumstances of my 
life in Berlin. My loyalty to Berlin is 
and remains entangled with fear be- 
cause my strongest impressions of the 
city are of the dark years after the 
War, and because unwittingly I still 
see it at the brink of the same chasm. 
At that time Germany, tired unto 
death, fell back into her own shadow. 
The urge to live was still there, but it 
had withdrawn into the individual, 
and there was nothing left for the 
whole. That was fateful for this city, 
which is not made for looseness and 
relaxation be they good or bad and 
which can truly live only in a conscious 
tension of all its energies. Berlin dis- 
integrated, the plaster crumbled, the 
paint peeled, through the shabby, 
torn garment one saw nothingness! 

And yet, for those who did not want 
to go under, it was the great hour of 




meditation. This sad city seemed to 
speak for all Germany, seemed to pro- 
claim warningly that there was no 
peace for the German except at the 
price of disintegration and decay. 
Against the hopeless background of 
these streets, swept by the icy winds 
of winter, against the dismal decay of 
the fagades, against the life that si- 
lently hid away in damp and shady 
corners, I read a lesson which has never 
left me the lesson that the German 
walks ever but a hair's breadth from 
the abyss and must never, never 
stand still lest he fall. 


With my own feet I have con- 
quered every stone of the streets of 
Berlin. We walked then, endless miles, 
for carfare was high and generally 
there was trouble with whatever form 
of transportation one would have 
used. It is a long way from Gross- 
Reinickendorf to Belle- Alliance Square, 
from Pankow to Charlottenburg, es- 
pecially at night. One deserted, dead 
city seemed to adjoin the other; steps 
sounded against the dead walls of the 
houses; every now and then one came 
on a barbed-wire entanglement a 
pale boy's face beneath a steel helmet 
looking across it: some young volun- 
teer of the Reinhart Regiment, or the 
Cavalry Guard Rifle Division. Even 
when free passage was obtained, one 
had to climb over a maze of wire rolls, 
lumber, and sand sacks, to find a new 
street opening, endless, empty, closed 
off in the distance by another obstacle. 

Once my father visited me it was 
March, 1920. I gave him my bed and 
slept on the sofa in the other room. 
The next morning, when we awoke, 
there was a general strike there are 

children now in Germany who do not 
even know the word. There was no 
subway, no trolley, no cab nothing. 
We lived somewhere on Berliner- 
sfrasse, not far from the Charlottenburg 
Castle. My father had some business 
with the Ministry of Transportation 
on the Vosstrasse^ I believe. We walked 
to the Knie^ then through the T'/Vr- 
garten, where some troops were camp- 
ing under the trees. We walked and 
walked my father was seventy- two 
then and we talked a great deal. 
Now and then he stopped to catch his 
breath, and I was so happy when he 
leaned on me a little. The crocus had 
broken through the earth, the thrush 
sang and the old man spoke of the time 
when he was young; at last he came to 
his experiences in the Franco-Prussian 
War, and we fell back into step. At 
the Brandenburg Gate our progress 
stopped. The place was teeming with 
young warriors in steel helmets, and 
with staring bystanders. Up above, 
beside the chariot on the Gate, a 
machine gun was being mounted. 
My father saw it and smiled, I do not 
know why; but that quiet, fresh smile 
under the white mustache I shall not 

That is long past now, and I do not 
know whether I may insert memories 
of so personal a nature into my ex- 
planation of my loyalty to Berlin. 
Perhaps I may, for this- walk from 
west to east was an act of self-assertion 
to which Berlin challenges one time 
and again. Not to give up, to resist, to 
survive! More than that! To remain 
tense, not to stop, onward, onward! 
Even today, whenever I see Berlin 
again, this call awakens within me. 
But I shall not conceal that it possesses 
an almost irreconcilable seriousness, 
which falls like a shadow across my 




path. Are we really destined never to 
rest ? Shall we always fall a little short 
of the goal, even on the threshold of 
our home, even at our own hearth ? 


If there is an answer at all to this 
tortured question, it will most likely 
come from Berlin. Here restlessness 
becomes stone, structure and still 
remains restlessness. Here motion 
becomes the masonry foundation and 
still motion continues. Here yearning 
becomes fulfilment and still the heart 
of man does not stop consuming itself 
in yearning. Have we lost forever the 
sense of duration, and gained in return 
so much time that all that lasts seems 
like death? Loyalty to Berlin means 
the tireless sowing of seeds on ground 
grown dry through need and disinte- 
gration, yet still far from solid. Stone 
from quicksand that is Berlin. 

Here no knight rides forth twixt 
death and devil. Here no Melancholia 
lets fall her compass. Here no Saint 
Jerome sits in his cell, lost in thought, 
yet clairvoyant. Here run no wells 
where the wanderer may slumber, 
while the hermit humbly pastures his 
horses. Here no moon rises across the 
meadowed valley silently, lest the 
little sleeping brother be disturbed. 
No, no rest is offered the heart, no 
support but that tirelessly presented 
by one's own will, to serve as a basis 
for further sorties into the infinite. 
Is it a sign of eternal youth ? At any 
rate this city is too young to have been 
formed around an already proven 
historical nucleus. Now it gains its 

shape from the masses, and thus de- 
rives its life from the new, the coming 
shapers of the world. The forces turn 
about, but the center around which 
they revolve turns with them. 

It is not enough to say that Berlin 
points to the future and is thus the 
most alive of all the cities. One must 
recognize that the future, with its 
conscious and fundamental renounc- 
ing of luxuries which still lighten 
today the life of many people and 
nations, with its war-like nakedness, 
and its readiness to sacrifice, can be 
thought of as truly human and bear- 
able only here. Everywhere, in all the 
cities of the world, which seem to live 
like flowers, one feels the irresistible 
flight of all things. One is determined 
or condemned to lose. Only in Berlin 
can he who still wants to hope feel that 
the future may not consist of nothing 
but losses. 

That is why loyalty to Berlin for 
him who lives and works outside is not 
merely burdened with care and fore- 
boding, but also winged by that confi- 
dence which time and again tears the 
German away from the rim of the 
abyss. If nonetheless a gentle pain, the 
barest hint of pain, prevails, I shall no 
longer investigate it too thoroughly. 
I shall resign myself to the fact that a 
feeling gnaws at my vitals, as though 
I had forgotten something without 
discovering what it was really about. 
A fragrance reaches me, but I do not 
succeed in recognizing whence it 
comes. A melody stirs, but I can no 
longer assemble it. A goal is in my 
mind, but I cannot think of its name. 
And thus I go my way. 

With this bucolic story, a promising 
young Flemish writer is introduced to 
American readers for the first time. 

The Good 

By Antoon Coolen 
Translated by Ruth Norden 


IMERD was a doughty fellow, tall 
and squarely built. The cut of his 
mouth was a little crude and hard. His 
arms were like oar-shafts. When he 
really hauled off, everything went 
down before him. Hanna, his wife, was 
a bit smaller, but she too was made of 
a good clod of earth, and took right 
hold of the farm work. Weekdays it 
was she who milked the cows, in the 
clearing near the house during the 
summer, in the stable during the win- 
ter, and when the milk shot into the 
tub, she sang a song in time to it. Sun- 
days it was Eimerd's turn to squat on 
the milking stool under the cows. The 
cattle were milked three times a day, 
as was the custom in the land. 

Hanna took care of the hogs and 
stood at the stove. She did all the 
housework; she baked the bread in the 
bake-house; her butter always turned 
out well; and when the rye was ripe, 
she paced the field behind Eimerd, 
binding the shocks she was a good 
hand at it and setting them up. If 
Eimerd was the swiftest mower. 

Hanna was the swiftest binder. She 
never fell behind him. Together the 
two got the work done; if they could 
not get along by themselves, the hired 
man came for a day. 

All was well between the two. Yes. 
But there was no child, though they 
had been married four years. None 
came, and they wanted one so badly. 
One day Hanna sat down and cried. 

'What are you crying for?* Eimerd 

He got no answer, but, after all, 
you could guess why she was crying. 

Eimerd went into the fields, walked 
without looking up, pondered the mat- 
ter. Spring had settled quietly over the 
land; the young year sang in the sun 
and in the wind. Evening came and 
the new day, the Annunciation of 
Mary, the holiday. And around noon- 
time, as they rose from their meal, 
Hanna said to her husband: 

'Eimerd,' she said, 'you milk the 
cows and take care of the cattle and 
the hogs and the goat and the horse. 
I'm going to go to Ommel.' 



'Good,' said Eimerd. 

Good, he thought, and was quietly 
happy. The woman dressed and left. 
She stepped across the threshold. She 
was smaller than Eimerd, but she 
seemed tall as she strode through the 
door. The path soon came to an end 
and she followed the road, with its 
wagon ruts. Spring was blue over the 
fields, the early green was deepening, 
and the rye shot up merrily. She went 
through the fields and, walking quickly, 
left behind her the much trodden path 
and the fencing. All around the foliage 
of the trees grew denser. Yonder lay 
the village. 

She took the narrow path along the 
hurrying brook, with its turbid mur- 
muring water. She passed puddles in 
the clay where the sun drew a silvery 
glitter from the milky water, while the 
soft wind rippled the surface. Onward, 
ever onward- Carefully, on a buckling 
plank across the water-course, then for 
a while on the ridge between two ruts, 
and finally at one bound across the dry 
ditch on to the high road to Ommel. 

The sun on this last March day 
shone warmly. This was the way things 
stood with Hanna: she had put the 
question and listened inwardly; she 
had hope; but no answer came. She 
strolled along on the dusty road by the 
green field, by the woods, which were 
of a still deeper green, onward to the 
place of mercy. The sun shone on her 
black coat, and on the delicate cleanli- 
ness of her smooth damask bonnet, 
with its bright birds and bunches of 
grapes. Thus she strode along. And be- 
side the black of her coat there swung 
to and fro from her work-reddened 
hand the rosary whose beads she 
was counting ten 'greetings unto 
thee' and again ten 'with thy joyful 
secrets:' that of the message of the 

angel Gabriel and of Mary's visit to 
her cousin Elizabeth. Thus she strode 
along. And she prayed for the interces- 
sion of the Most Pure Mother, of the 
Immaculate Mother. To her, the Mir- 
ror of Justice, the Rose of the Spirit, 
the Morning Star to her she prayed. 

Then she sat among the people in 
the sunny little church during the 
benediction, and her heart grew still 
under the mysterious, sweet compul- 
sion of the Magnificat: 'My soul doth 
magnify the Lord and my spirit hath 
rejoiced in God my Savior. For he 
hath regarded the lowly state of his 
handmaiden.' A virgin who had come 
over the mountains had sung this song 
in times far gone, and in an ancient 
country far away. Now, not under- 
stood, but deeply conceived, it sounded 
in a soft, open heart, beating in folded 

Hanna turned homeward through 
the twilight of the quiet day. The 
moon shone red through the blackness 
of the clouds, bright like a solitary 
window. Hanna entered the house at 
even-tide; there her man was waiting. 
He returned her 'Good evening,' and 
they sat down quietly beside each 
other at the hearth. Eimerd had filled 
his pipe and smoked it down. In a few 
words Hanna had told of her going. 

Outside was the early night; the 
trees were motionless, and the rye 
stood upright. The moon cast the 
shadow of the window cross on the 
floor beside the open bed-niche, where 
husband and wife lay together, deep in 


Somehow it happened, days after- 
ward, heaven knows how there may 
have been a hair in the soup, or money 
misplaced, or the cattle neglected, or 




whatever else there is of bad things in 
this world. Who knows how it came 
about? There was strife. Eimerd grew 
bitterly angry at the woman, and 
Eimerd was one of those who forget 
themselves completely when they 
grow angry. It rose up under his hair, 
beat down into his stomach, and 
swelled in his veins. Nearly blind he 
grew with the fury that rose up in him, 
and all that was good in him seemed 
swept away. How he went at his wife 
with evil words and hard as she stood 
before him! A chair was overturned, 
and the clock which was just striking 
could not be heard for all the scolding 
and noise. Eimerd saw it how there 
was a pale flash through the shy gaze 
of the woman. Her retort enraged him. 
With a crash he pounded his fist on 
the table until it bent. His brain 
reeled, and with a fearful curse he 
screamed at his wife: 

'You damned bitch! Hold your filthy 

Suddenly it was quiet a silence in 
which the ticking of the clock could be 
heard, the slow ticking. The evil word, 
the *hold-your-tongue' were like a 
blow in the soul of the woman. The 
coarseness of the man had shattered 
something it lay in fragments and 
she was silent. The quarrel was over. 
Eimerd went outside and Hanna re- 
mained in the house. 

The quarrel was over, but the air 
was thick and evil between the walls. 
The room was full of tightness, and 
when they sat at their evening repast 
it was still as death. A cow bellowed 
until the dark stable reverberated; the 
evening wind brushed past the win- 
dow; the horse in the stable rubbed his 
chain back and forth all this made 
the stillness deeper and more anxious. 
There they sat two people under the 

kerosene lamp at the brightly scrubbed 
table, silently eating the bread from 
slow hands, and silently sipping the 
hot coffee from the flowered cups. 
The evening stretched out. Eimerd 
smoked his pipe. Into the constraint of 
the quiet room blue clouds of tobacco 
smoke rose all around the yellow light 
of the lamp. Perhaps this quieted the 
man's mind, for at last Eimerd again 
said a word; but there was no answer. 
This enraged him anew. The woman 
sat there sunk into herself and brushed 
her hand across her face. That was all. 
He got nothing out of her, no matter 
how much he nagged and belittled. 

*God damn it, can't you talk any 
more ? * 

She only looked at him. She lifted 
her eyebrows, and from now on the 
corners of her mouth remained low- 
ered. It was clear she no longer desired 
to speak. Her tongue had become 
paralyzed. That is what the evil tem- 
per of the man had done. 

Silently they went to bed. In soli- 
tude Eimerd lay on the bed, behind 
the young woman's back. The bright- 
ening moon came in, high, cold and 
strange. Hanna brooded and swal- 
lowed at her grief; deep inside her the 
idea had taken hold that never in her 
life would she be able to say another 
word to her husband; it tortured her 
and did her good at the same time. 
She had been deeply hurt; now she 
took revenge, now she defended her- 
self what else could she do? She en- 
joyed gnawing and worrying it and 
thinking out how her husband would 
feel it and how he would rue his 
brutish excess. 

The great silence began. Possibly 
next morning, and all day, Hanna felt 
the desire to give up the quarrel and 
to meet her husband with a word. But 




it was as though her throat were 
tightened, and her tongue lay thick 
and paralyzed in her mouth. She could 
do nothing against it. 

Truly, never could she speak and 
never could she give in. Bitter lines 
grew around her mouth, and her gaze 
grew wide open and rigid. That gave 
her face an expression of pain and suf- 
fering and deep astonishment. The 
morning, the livelong day passed in 
silence, and Eimerd he forced him- 
self to resist with the same silence. 
That was painful and strange. If a 
word came up, it came from Eimerd; 
it was evil, unwilling, and full of 
anger, because it was for nought and 
because he did not succeed in remain- 
ing silent as completely as his wife. 
The whole farm was transformed. The 
stable, the house, even the land looked 
as though they were under another 
sky. There was an evil air in the house, 
and from the clay floor there came, 
quietly and distinctly, a rumbling 
when the horse stamped in the stable. 
Thus passed the second day, and the 
third, and the whole week. 


On Sunday, after ten o'clock mass, 
as Eimerd stood at the bar of Mieke's 
'Lion,' he told Tijmen Goossens, the 
sixty-year-old village tax collector, 
what had happened. He pulled him 
aside from the end of the bar, out of 
the noisy throng in the inn, where they 
had been standing among the farmers, 
under heavy clouds of tobacco smoke. 

'Tijmen,' he said, *I have been 
quarreling with my wife lately. She 
hasn't spoken a word since. What do 
you think of it? She doesn't open her 
mouth any more.' 

Tijmen Goossens withdrew the thin 

mouthpiece of his long clay pipe, and 
used it to rub the shiny rim of his great 
blue-red ear. He shook his head and 
said nothing. 

'Tijmen,' Eimerd said, 'it's no 
laughing matter. I'm telling you in 
confidence I can't get a word out of 
her. She keeps silent!' 

Tijmen replaced the pipe between his 
pale, narrow lips, and let out a few lit- 
tle clouds. 'A woman who holds her 
tongue that is a real marvel, Eimerd. 
Take care that it lasts. I wish I could 
bring mine to do it.' 

That was the opinion of Tijmen 

Eimerd came home and again felt 
the anxious silence about him. They 
ate their lunch like two stricken dumb, 
and Eimerd, hardly done with the last 
mouthful, rose and went out into the 
fields. That Sunday there came to him 
many strange and peculiar thoughts. 
Late in the afternoon he came home. 
His wife sat in the twilight, while out- 
side the spring evening came on slowly. 
Eimerd went into the stable, lit the 
lantern, squatted in the sparse light on 
the milking stool under the cows, and 
drew the stream of milk from the taut 
udders. When he had milked the cows 
he went to the horse's stall to take 
care of the horse the good brown 
gelding with the black mane. The 
horse stood still, as he always did when 
the day darkened. He turned around 
toward Eimerd, turned his head side- 
ways from the delicately curved neck. 
Eimerd patted his neck for a long 
while the horse liked it. Then Eimerd 
lightly patted the smooth hind- 
quarters, lifted the lantern to the 
hook, filled the feed box with oats, and 
broke pieces of black bread into it. He 
spoke under his breath to the animal, 
which looked at him with large shiny 




black eyes, mirroring light and dark- 
ness. The horse stuck his soft blunt 
nose against the sleeves of Eimerd's 
smock, and blew a warm breath 
through expanded nostrils. Then he 
lifted his head and immersed it into 
the darkness of the feed box, snorting 
loudly and violently a few times the 
oats tasted so good. Eimerd laughed 
deep inside himself. 

Eimerd had thought up something. 
He had lain silently behind his wife all 
the night and had gone to his work 
early in the morning. When he came to 
eat at noon he brought the horse with 
him into the house. 

Good God, here was something, 
truly strong medicine! The great 
brown gelding strode in, stooping un- 
der the door jamb, and then throwing 
his head up high to the ceiling beams. 
He strode in so that the clay floor re- 
sounded under the fourfold hoof-beat. 
The shining rump swayed rhythmi- 
cally, and the long mane flowed from 
the neck. The horse gazed in astonish- 
ment from beneath the hair that fell 
onto his forehead. His gleaming body 
was free of all harness. Between the 
small, stiffly erect ears there was a 
bright white spot on his forehead, reg- 
ularly shaped like a window pane a 
star, half concealed under the tousled 
mane. Thus he entered, the brown, 
over-sized, with heavy tread and 
massive rump. He stood still. He filled 
the entire entrance. He seemed to cave 
out the ceiling. He looked into the 
embers of the fire, and toward the 
woman, and at the dish, full of steam- 
ing turnip-soup and meat, which stood 
in the middle of the table. 

In her astonishment Hanna came 
very close to opening her mouth. But 
she saw her husband standing there. 
So she bethought herself quickly and 

took hold of herself even now she 
could do it. She drew up the chairs and 
sat down at the round table where she 
always sat. Eimerd took a loaf of dry 
black bread from the box on the wall 
beside the hearth, and with his pocket 
knife cut it into bits which he put on 
the table beside him. 

Then he drew up his chair and sat 
down. He clicked his tongue in a 
manner familiar to the animal, and it 
approached. The farmer and his wife 
crossed themselves and silently said 
their prayer. Between the two the 
horse's head intruded. Man and wife 
reached for the fork and helped them- 
selves. Still chewing, Eimerd laid 
down his fork and oflFered the horse a 
piece of bread. The horse turned his 
head toward Eimerd and scattered 
the crumbs on the scrubbed table 
top with his breath. He lifted his soft, 
dry, black lips, sniffed at the bread, 
bared his broad yellow teeth, ex- 
tended the rosy, warm, moist, thick 
tongue, took the bread and hastily 
chewed it with the grind-work of his 
flat teeth. He demanded more and re- 
ceived another piece of bread. He 
nodded thanks with his good head. 
The strong jaws, curving in the rear, 
did their work, and he nibbled and 
smacked with pleasure. His eyes 
looked right and left, at the farmer 
and his wife, looked at them quietly 
and friendlily from their deep black- 
ness. Openness and depth, content- 
ment, goodness and intelligence, they 
all spoke from the velvety sheen of 
those eyes. In his nostrils and on his 
black lips little bold hairs were ar- 
ranged, visible only at close range. 

The brown feasted with the humans 
as though he had been used to it all 
his Hfe. His beautiful rump and the 
floor about him were spotted with 




sunshine. The copper disk of the lazy- 
pendulum in the case of the grand- 
father's clock lit up with every swing. 
Softly and gently the horse swished 
his flanks with his tail, lifted his hind- 
quarters and passed the edge of a hoof 
along his yellow-brown, delicately 
veined belly, the skin of which twitched 
quickly every now and then, then put 
the hoof down on the hard clay floor 
with a thump. 

Hanna sat silently at her food, oc- 
casionally threw a timid glance at the 
horse's head high above the table be- 
tween herself and her husband, and 
looked at the horse, who bore his life 
with such serenity and strength in his 
mighty body and in his shod hooves. 
Hanna saw how he ate from her hus- 
band's hand. Perhaps she was a little 
angry at first. But now she quietly re- 
joiced. After all, it was Eimerd who had 
been fooled. He had probably expected 
to elicit a word from her when he 
brought the horse into the house. After 
the meal they crossed themselves 
again. Eimerd gathered the last crumbs 
of bread, placed them in his hand and 
held them to the lips of the horse. 
Then he wiped off the sticky saliva on 
the leg of his trousers and ordered the 
horse to turn about in the room, which 
was done with much stamping and 
scraping. His wife stayed. She saw the 
high rear of the horse swaying off. The 
tail waved her a good-day. 

The next day the same thing hap- 
pened, and again on the days following 
- for two weeks, a month and even 

Eimerd had said to his wife: 

'The brown will eat with us in the 
house until you begin to talk again.' 

Even to this statement he got no 
answer. Alas, the woman may have 
been long past her anger, but, strangely 

enough, it had become her fixed pur- 
pose not to break the silence she had 
vowed. It no longer had anything to 
do with the quarrel. She had locked 
herself in and built a fence around her- 
self a high fence she herself could not 
surmount. Of an evening on a quiet 
day she sometimes felt the desire to 
say something. But only when she was 
quite alone, when her husband was 
nowhere to be seen, did she softly 
whisper a few words under her breath, 
glad to have them all to herself. She 
spoke to the chickens too, when she 
scattered feed, and to the hogs, when 
she poured the mash into the trough, 
or to the cows, when she poured out 
the dishwater outside. Sometimes, 
turning toward the fire in the hearth, 
she muttered softly to herself. She ad- 
dressed the bread as she shaped it 
from the well-prepared dough. She sat 
before the door and watched the sway- 
ing tree tops. 


Summer was approaching mightily, 
opening one's heart with an abun- 
dance of sunshine. In the shadows be- 
fore the gate on the carefully swept 
clay ground she saw little feet and the 
play of tiny hands. They seemed to 
embrace her heart and reach for her 
mouth. But when her husband came, 
his step cut off her voice and abruptly 
constricted her throat. No will was 
strong enough to lure a word from her 
mouth. No longer was anything left of 
her resentment. Perhaps it was some 
quirk that forced her to silence, an in- 
ability to pursue any other course. 
Constantly she thought: 'I cannot, I 
cannot do it.' And indeed she could 
not. At first she had been resentful; in 
the first days the unshed tears had 
troubled her heart. Now her sorrow 




was old. Perhaps nothing but surprise 
had remained. 

At dinner, when she raised her eyes 
from her hands, she saw only the 
horse. He ate from the feed box, 
which stood on a chair. Leisurely he 
raised his head, chewed zealously, 
bent down, and gently shook his fine 
mane. It had come to the point where 
he no longer had to be called. When 
Eimerd had unbuckled yoke and cinch 
before the barn, had hung the harness 
on the barn door, and had taken the 
bit from his mouth, the horse auto- 
matically went into the house and to 
his place. He was well content to so- 
journ with the farmer and his wife, to 
ogle their hands and to eat his bread 
and oats. He was silent like the 
humans, but he was used to it and 
contented. If only there had been no 
flies! They settled in little swarms in 
the corners of his eyes. He winked and 
chased them oflF. They flew up and set- 
tled again. They settled all over his 
body, no matter how often the twitch- 
ing of his skin, the swish of his tail, 
and the stamp of his hooves drove 
them away. They flew off and settled 
again. They seemed to sting for the 
fun of it; ever again they thirsted for 
the good horse-blood. Hanna cut leafy 
branches from the hedge and often 
brushed them along the horse's body 
to fend off the vermin a little. Eimerd 
looked up, but he said nothing. 

The rye was ripening in the field; 
the lark filled the sky with its song; 
the cornflowers and the red poppies 
shone from the borders of the blond 
grain. A woman strides through the 
house, strides across the floor of the 
barn. She enters from the cool green of 
the orchard, sunshine resting upon her 
and shadow. Outside beneath the little 
trees, between the bright trunks, stand 

the red-brown, spotted cows and 
graze. Hanna stops for a moment on 
the threshold and leans against the 
squat door frame. Before her in a semi- 
circle she sees the white jostle of the 
chickens, and, amid them, the proud 
gait of the rooster. The grunting of the 
hogs sounds through the rails of the 
sty. The goat is grazing on the fallow 
field, lifting her head now and then 
and bleating. As far as the eye can 
see, the good rye stands ripe. The 
summer Hanna can see and hear it. 
Something has happened to her. Yes, 
to be sure, it is nothing special only 
fear and joy and a hope. Inside of her 
a new bit of life lives that the earth 
may grow. The will of the earth is 
wrought in Hanna, the humble hand- 
maiden. For many days now she has 
known it and kept it to herself. 

One evening, as the house grew 
dark, Eimerd came in. Hanna Ht the 
kerosene lamp; the light fell on the 
brightly scrubbed table, and the dark- 
ness drew its cloak about the woman 
and the man. She sat before him, her 
hands quiet on the table top. Her 
heart overflowed, and she broke the 
silence. She told her husband; she put 
it in words. Perhaps it had not re- 
mained hidden from him. Now she 
said it. For a moment -she trembled 
with the incomprehensible joy of be- 
ing able to say it. The farmer listened. 
He was silent, and he was as close to 
her as she to him. They were man and 
wife. The evening laid its hand upon 
their hearts and upon their house. 

The following day the horse re- 
mained in the stable, and it remained 
there all the days that came. It 
stamped its hooves on the floor of the 




stable in surprise and resentment; it 
did not grasp the change. With sparse 
words the farmer and his wife spoke 
over their lunch and evening meal 
they were worried, they were glad. 
They counted the months and wrote 
the approximate date on the calendar, 
far ahead in the year. The horse re- 
mained in his stable. Now all was well 
between them. It was agreed the 
horse remained in the stable, and no 
longer entered the house. 

From now on they were really no 
longer alone. Wherever their thoughts 
might stray, always there was that Ht- 
tle something for which they waited. 
When they spoke, they spoke about 
it, even though with few words. All 
their pondering moved around this 
thing that was to come. And Hanna, 
when she bent over, felt it in her body, 
bore it already in her hands, marked 
by motherhood. When she stood lost 
in herself, she saw it with her own 
eyes. This year, when the rye was 
mown, Eimerd hired a woman to do 
the binding. She ate with them in the 
house for a few days. When the shocks 
stood a deep yellow on the fields be- 
neath the blue sky, when the two of 
them again sat alone at the table, 
Eimerd and Hanna began to look at 
each other strangely. Perhaps Hanna 
started it she behaved so strangely 
and peculiarly. They ate their bread, 
their heads turned to the dishes, but 
whenever they secretly glanced aside 
they saw that something was missing. 

Outside in the stable the horse 
stamped, tugging at his chain, rubbing 
it against the wood, and neighing 
softly. So it went day after day, for 
many days. At last Hanna said: 

*I don't know. . . . When you 
have become so used to it ... I 
can't get over the brown no longer 

eating with us and no longer coming 
into the house.' 

Eimerd was a thoughtful man. He 
said nothing. But when Hanna said 
that, there must have been a good rea- 
son. He thought it over carefully, and 
found that she was right. When 
Eimerd left the stable to go in for his 
meal, he saw how the horse's head 
turned after him with a frown. Eimerd 
did his work, heaping the rye into 
stacks. Later, he hitched the horse to 
the plough and turned over the stub- 
ble. He called his 'whoa' and 'gid- 
dap,' and the horse quickly drew a 
moist furrow with the shiny plough- 

At the evening meal the farmer and 
his wife looked toward the wall be- 
hind which the horse stirred discon- 
tentedly. Indeed, Eimerd had had to 
stand before the door with arms spread 
out to turn away the brown and drive 
him to the stable. Then, at dinner, 
they missed the familiar presence of 
the good animal, his glances, his shift- 
ing to and fro, his demands, his grati- 


One day Eimerd went to the village, 
to old Luthers, the mason. He made 
arrangements. Next day Luthers was 
there. He went into the stable, meas- 
ured with his eyes, and came back 
into the room. He placed his rule 
against the wall nearest the stable and 
drew lines with his broad, flat mason's 
pencil. Then he began to hack away 
with hammer, chisel and crowbar, so 
that the rubble beat a tattoo in the 
house and in the stable on the other 
side. He opened a hole three feet 
square and plastered the rough stone 
with mortar which he carefully iin- 
ished with trowel and float. Well, that 



was done! Eimerd laughed and Hanna 
laughed with him. The mason ce- 
mented some hooks under the opening 
in the wall, and Eimerd put together 
a feed box with a descending top. 
Then, when Eimerd and Hanna sat at 
their meals, it happened quite natu- 
rally that the horse stuck his head 
from the darkness of the stable 
through the hole in the wall, reaching 
down for his fodder as if that were the 
proper way. 

From now on he was with them 
again. He whinnied softly and greeted 
them in joy and friendliness. Day 
after day he was their companion and 
was in their life, in the familiar room. 
He could see the table and the chairs 
standing against the wall and under 
the window, and the broad bed. He 
could see the farmer's wife go about, 
and he pricked up his ears whenever a 
word fell. 

When the new seed had been sown, 
it began to freeze a hoar frost at 
first, and then, one night, a little 
snow. The rigid fields lay aged and 
gray beneath the fog. The chiming of 
the distant church had sounded away 
over the fields and the nights were 
black. In the deep darkness it began to 
snow thickly one night, and daylight 
with its red ball of sun came up on a 
gleaming white world, upon which lay 
a hint of delicate red and blue. There 

was no horizon, and the houses and 
cottages lay shrouded. Thick clouds of 
smoke towered over the low chimneys. 

At such nights the stars rustle, the 
sky stands in flower, and the stillness 
resounds. The days and the nights 
they descend into the heart of eternity. 

Inside the house Eimerd kindled a 
great good fire of peat. In the bed- 
stead lay the woman. In the cradle of 
brown braiding lay the little bundle. It 
had been sought in prayers from 
heaven; it had been sent like the dew 
from heaven from the heaven spread 
over the holy night sounding with the 
stillness. A man. A woman. And the 
child. And the horse in the stable. He 
stretched his great head out of the 
darkness, full of curiosity. He pricks 
up his ears at a new clear sound; with 
his great eyes mirroring the hearth- 
flame, he looks at the new precious 
property which the house shelters. He 
follows with his eyes as Eimerd lifts 
the child, wrapped in the sheet, from 
the cradle to his arm before his broad 
chest, and lays it in the careful hands 
of the mother. She stills the little hun- 
ger, gives all her warmth, her whole 
heart; she sees nothing but the thirsty 
child at her breast. The walls of the 
house move closer together. All the 
light gathers in the purity of her look, 
which shines out above all that is mor- 
tal. The earth can hold no more. 

As Everyone Knows ... 

Everyone knows that the liberal Koscialkowski-Kwiatkowski Cab- 
inet is weak, and that it hangs on a precarious balance of liberal 
ministers against illiberal colonels, with Soznkowski and Rydz-Smigly 
in the background. 

From the New Statesman and Nation, London 

The well-known authority on political 
economy, Mr. Harold Laski, discusses 
the men and the issues which are 
likely to dominate Spanish politics in 
the next four years, while a correspond- 
ent of the Journal de Geneve describes 
the current situation in the Argentine. 

Spaniards on 
Two Continents 

A Latin 

L Four Years to Rebuild Spain 
By Harold Laski 

From the Tiaily Herald, London Labor Daily 

WllEREVER men still care for 
progressive social experiment, or the 
ideal of intellectual toleration, for the 
kind of State in which the power of 
wealth is to be subordinated to the 
interest of the common man, the vic- 
tory of the Left in the Spanish elec- 
tions will be welcome. 

It is not, directly, a victory for So- 
cialism. It is the victory immedi- 
ately more significant of a union of 
all Left forces, from the Social-Radi- 
calism of Azana through the Socialism 

of Fernando de los Rios, to the Marx- 
ian views of Caballero, against the 
clerical Fascism of Gil Robles, the 
great landowners, the industrial mil- 
lionaires, and the Church. 

It means if there is no coup d'etat 
from the Right, and if the Left are 
wise enough to maintain their present 
unity four years in which to consoli- 
date the ideals for which the Revolu- 
tion of 1 93 1 was made. 

The Left was far from certain of a 
victory at all. It has won, primarily. 




for two reasons. First, the working 
classes have resented profoundly the 
bloody repression of the Asturias re- 
bellion of 1934; the Left victory means 
the pardon of some thirty thousand 
political prisoners. 

Second, nearly three years of Tory 
government have convinced the masses 
that Gil Robles and his allies are 
merely the monarchy writ larger and 
more brutal. There is no hope for them 
in a continuance of that rule. The 
masses and the intellectuals have 
joined hands in the service of a 
progressive regime. The next task is to 
consolidate its foundations. 

Do not let us underestimate their 
difficulties. They will need to master 
the banks. They will need drastically 
to reform the higher ranks of the army 
and to assure its loyalty. They will 
need to break up the large estates in 
the interest of the poor peasants. 

Not less than any of these things, 
they will need widespread educational 
reform. Ten years of profound pro- 
gressive legislation are essential if 
Liberal Spain is to be given its letters 
of credit. 

There are long years of leeway to be 
made up. There are old and stubborn 
prejudices to be overcome. There are 
wide differences within the Left to be 
bridged so that an unbreakable unity 
of purpose confronts its enemies. 

The Right is rich. It is well-disci- 
plined. It does not shrink from either 
illegality or repression. It will take ad- 
vantage of every weakness in its op- 
ponents* armor. I hope the Left will 
remember that the consoHdation of 
their victory does not concern Spain 
alone. The elections were a triumph 
for the anti-Fascist forces of Europe. 
To guarantee that it endures is to give 
new hope to civilization in the dark- 

est hour it has known for many years. 

The Left has the men to do it. 
Senor Azana, their leader, is the out- 
standing figure of the new Spain. We 
should call him a Left-wing Liberal in 
England. His great asset is character. 
He has courage, energy, determina- 
tion. He relies not upon ingenious 
maneuver but on driving a straight 
path to his goal. In his previous tenure 
of office he showed an awareness of 
the central issues that was impressive; 
he dominated Spain in those years. 

Senor Caballero is the outstanding 
trade union leader. In the last ten 
years he has moved rapidly to the 
Left. In personality there is some- 
thing akin to Ernest Bevin about him. 
He is aggressive, dominating, in- 
sistent. He never stops fighting. There 
is, too, a certain relentlessness about 
him which has been sharpened by the 
grim experience of these last years. 
His treatment by the Robles regime 
has given him a special hold upon 
trade union opinion. Now his task is to 
build its emotions into a coherent 

Intellectually, Don Fernando de 
los Rios towers above his colleagues. 
It is not yet certain that he has been 
reelected to the Cortes, as his op- 
ponents made a dead-set against him 
in Granada. This gentle professor is 
one of the noblest intellectuals in 
Europe. There is something of the 
moral beauty of Gilbert Murray in 
him, but with a deeper fighting qual- 
ity. He was a great Minister of Educa- 
tion in the last Azana Government, 
and as Foreign Secretary he gave new 
life to the position of Spain in the 
League. A Left Socialist, he is hated 
especially by the Right, which cannot 
forgive him, granted his distinguished 
forbears, for having thrown in his lot 




with the working class; and the cleri- 
cals hate him because he has always 
fought their power over the education 
of Spain. 

I think he will have as much in- 
fluence as anyone in keeping the forces 
of the Left together; for none knows 
better than he that the breakdown of 
the present union means something 
like Fascism on the Hitler model. Don 
Fernando is one of the little group of 
Spanish intellectuals who have kept 
alive there the noblest traditions of 
European free thought. 

Prieto, no doubt, will return at once 
from his exile in Paris; and Senor 
Companys will go from behind the 
prison walls to preside over the 
autonomous government of Catalonia. 

Both of them are men of sterling 
quality who have learned much in 
these last years of what it means in a 
brief period to transform a State 
which, morally and intellectually, still 
largely lived in the mental climate of 
the seventeenth century into a twen- 
tieth century society. 


It is, I think, unlikely that any of 
the leaders now will under-rate the 
difficulties of their task. Their knowl- 
edge of the reaction will have taught 
them that, hard as is the ascent to 
power, its maintenance is a still more 
difficult business. 

They have to control followers of 
fiercely varying shades of opinion 
Bakunin anarchists in Barcelona and 
Saragossa, ardent Syndicalists in the 
Asturias, passionate devotees of Mos- 
cow in many of the big cities, peasants 
with the mentality of those French 
agrarians who broke the yoke of 
feudaHsm in 1789. 

All the drive and energy of Azafia 
and Caballero, all the delicate tact of 
Don Fernando will be needed to move 
all these forces on a united front. 

The chance is real. For the victory 
has meant that the common man, in 
the face of unprecedented effort from 
the Right, has determined that the 
Left be given the chance to build upon 
the foundations of that creative pas- 
sion which made the Revolution five 
years ago. 

It is an immense responsibility for 
the simple reason that it is the last 
chance of constitutionalism in Spain. 
It has to be pursued without revenge, 
for that would drive the Right to des- 
peration. But it has also to be pursued 
without weakness, since there are 
forces in Spain, especially in the al- 
liance between big business and the 
Church, ready to seize upon the first 
signs that the grip of the new regime 

The Right is likely to be a powerful 
opposition in the Cortes, that can be 
restrained only as the united Left 
maintains its integrity unimpaired. If 
there is once a schism within its 
boundaries, the prospects of reaction 
will become bright once more. 

Every Socialist, I think, should 
therefore seek for Spain the sense that 
the next four years are above all a 
breathing space within which to 
strengthen the progressive forces, to 
translate their purposes into the minds 
and hearts of the people unshakably. 

Spain, in the long run, needs Social- 
ism as Europe needs Socialism. But in 
the next immediate years the essential 
task is for Spanish Socialists to make 
their principles emerge as the logical 
next stage on a road travel down 
which must be more devious and in- 
direct than they can easily like. 




They must remember, as they col- 
laborate, for how much they stand 
trustees. It is not often in history that 
the makers of a new world are given 

the opportunity peacefully to build 
its foundations. Let them make these 
secure before they settle the design of 
the superstructure. 

II. The Argentine Recovers 


Translated from the Journal de Genive, Geneva Liberal Daily 


lEWCOMERS from Europe who 
would like to get an idea of the politi- 
cal situation in the Argentine by 
reading the papers might find them- 
selves believing that the country is 
on the eve of a revolution. Political 
scandals are the order of the day; the 
tranquillity which General Justo's sei- 
zure of power, two years ago, seemed 
to have achieved appears now to be 
endangered; the opposition, hardly 
alive only a short time ago, is begin- 
ning to lift its head; everywhere one 
hears criticisms and complaints. Mr. 
de la Torre, one of the most redoubt- 
able democrats of the opposition, has 
just brought into the open the 'meat 
scandal,' in which the Government is 
imphcated since the refrigerating in- 
dustry has not paid its taxes in full. The 
discussions in Parliament on this sub- 
ject have exasperated passions and 
even brought guns into play. The pro- 
vincial elections of Buenos Aires and 
Cordoba have been accompanied by 
violence and bloodshed. 

Since the death of the ex-president, 
Irigoyen, the opposition has been led 
by Dr. Aldear, who had previously 
deserted its ranks. It is reinforced by 
the Radicals and the Socialists, both 
of them especially powerful at Buenos 
Aires. Its main accusation against 
the Government is that it falsified the 
elections. At Cordoba, where twenty- 

eight radicals went armed to supervise 
the ballot, there was a violent clash 
with the police in which one radical 
and seven policemen were killed. Both 
parties claimed to have been attacked. 

The political thermometer seems to 
indicate fever. 

Nevertheless, the revolution has not 
yet come, although the Government 
has perhaps become a minority one. 
But the decisive factor in the Argen- 
tine, as in the rest of South America, 
remains the army. Now the Argentine 
army is powerful and loyal. Its leaders 
believe that the Radicals, with their 
deplorable economic theories, must be 
held back for at least five more years. 
After all, the army did not evict Iri- 
goyen's Radicals to reinstall those of 
Aldear. It is afraid that the Radicals 
will bring back the financial crisis of 
1929-30. (It is an open secret that 
many Radicals of note were politically 
ruined at that time.) 

But what is the reason for this grow- 
ing opposition in the country.'' The 
accusations directed at the Justo 
government are not easy to under- 
stand. It cannot be denied that the 
Justo regime, which succeeded legally 
General Uriburu's revolution, has 
saved the country from a financial 
catastrophe. The Argentine owes its 
safety above all to the energetic meas- 
ures taken by the Minister of Finance, 




Mr. Pinedo, nicknamed 'the Salazar 
of the Argentine,' an ex-Socialist, 
whose decrees were hard but necessary 
in this emergency. 

He has introduced direct taxation, 
hitherto unknown, and increased the 
land, inheritance, and consumer's 
taxes. At the end of 1933 the Govern- 
ment resorted to devaluation and 
then to strict currency control. Under 
these circumstances Mr. Pinedo proved 
his great abilities in financial manipu- 
lations. The State buys up foreign 
currency from the exporters. It fixes 
for it an artificial market value of 15 
pesos a pound. This currency is then 
resold to the importers at a price 
twelve to fifteen per cent higher. The 
whole transaction is carried out by the 
Central Bank, which was founded in 
1935. In this way the importers receive 
only the currency coming from coun- 
tries which buy the Argentine mer- 
chandise, and so the exchange balance 
is assured. The importers from coun- 
^^'- tries which do not use this means of 
exchange find themselves compelled 
to buy the currency on the world 
market, where prices are considerably 

By these means the State proposed 
to fix the price of cereals. It owes its 
success principally to the drought 
which paralyzed North American ex- 
ports and put a premium on Argentine 
wheat. Buenos Aires for this reason 
hardly needed to help the operations 
along: it was able to save the equaliza- 

tion fund which the Government pro- 
vided for the purpose, and used it in- 
stead for the construction of granaries 
which are very useful in releasing the 
farmers from too great a dependence 
upon cereal production. 

Intelligent measures and a little 
luck have served to set the Argentine 
on the road to economic recovery, the 
symptoms of which are fairly bursting 
on our sight. After the drought of 
1934, this year's European arma- 
ments Italian and English in partic- 
ular are creating a market for Argen- 
tine leather, wool, and cotton. The 
development of exports makes it pos- 
sible to resume the payment of foreign 
debts. Prices of the principal agricul- 
tural products are rising. The only ex- 
ception is the price of meat, the rise 
of which is of paramount importance 
(perhaps because they hope to sell it 
eventually to Italy). 

Only corn production is lagging, 
and this alone would not justify the 
existing opposition to the Govern- 
ment. But political discontent need 
not necessarily have economic causes. 
Governments in Latin America wear 
out faster than anywhere else. This is 
the trouble with General Justo in the 
Argentine, with Mr. Vargas in Brazil. 
But Justo will remain in power: 
there is no doubt about it. He has an 
excellent Minister of Finance, a no 
less skillful Minister of War, and a 
devoted army. These things are what 
really count the most. 


French Literature Today 

Writing in the Listener, the 
weekly organ of the British Broadcast- 
ing Company, Mr. Denis Saurat, who 
is Professor of French Language and 
Literature at the University of Lon- 
don, describes the present state of 
literature in France: 

Literature seems to be in a slack period 
everywhere. England is not supposed to 
be my province here; and a Frenchman 
has to be polite. Germany is obviously off 
the literary values; the news we get from 
Russia is not reassuring. Neither Spain nor 
Italy surprises us frequendy or much. 
America ? 

As for France France has had a great 
literary period of which the central figure 
was Proust. Many people, after adoring 
Proust without reading him, now consider 
him settled and are quietly forgetting him 
or occasionally make a casual and con- 
temptuous reference to him. But Proust 
stands now safe, with Balzac, and the 
very first among the great ones. 

In his time were a few more great ones; 
not so great, but true Marshals to this 
Napoleon. Their work seems now mostly 
to be over. Paul Valery is greater than 
Mallarme. Alain is far superior to, say, 
Sainte-Beuve (there is no connection, and 
I am not distributing prizes, but trying to 
give a rough idea of sizes). Super vielle 
will wear as well as Theophile Gautier, for 
instance; and so on. Gide and Claudel, 
for neither of whom do I feel so very 
much reverence, are placed by many in 
the front rank. But so far as we can see 
that generation is not being replaced 
by anything of that rank at all. I remem- 
ber the excitement of the year 1910, when 
the Nouvelle Revue Frangaise was being 
founded and the air was teeming with fu- 

ture masterpieces. The young men of 
today have no such feelings. 

Several things have happened since 
about 1930. First we became more or less 
satiated with Proust and Valery and all 
they stood for. Malraux, Chamson, Giono, 
the later Montherlant (of the Celibataires) 
are on a totally different tack. But we 
cannot tell yet whether they will make 
good. Then the economic crisis changed 
the literary market: literature had been a 
commodity that paid; it became a com- 
modity that does not pay. The political 
crisis overshadowed everything. Proust 
and Valery had no politics. Malraux is 
an ardent communist; Chamson a violent 
radical; Montherlant has changed his 
opinions, I gather; Jean Richard Bloch is 
far to the Left; our own gende and amiable 
Andre Maurois is violently insulted both 
by those who think he is a radical and 
those who think he is a bourgeois; and so 
on. Jules Romains is freely accused of 
political ambitions. But in this new world 
after 1930, Hider, the Common Front, the 
Bank of France are subjects which put 
at a disadvantage all literary values. The 
Briand- Austen Chamberlain-Stresemann 
period was much more favorable. And 
the public no longer buys books. 

Paris is a tangle of literary intrigues of 
which the aim is, naturally enough, the 
making of reputations and of money. 
There is Httle wrong in this, as literary 
men have always been after the legitimate 
rewards of their trade. But the reputation 
and the money are not made on literary 
values, as they were, say, in the time of 
Lamartine and Hugo, or, in a totally dif- 
ferent world, in the time of Corneille 
or in that of Pope, or even in the beginning 
of this century. Roughly speaking, the 
credit went to merit, for a discerning 
public chose, on the whole, what was best. 
Now the discerning public is much too 
limited in numbers. The sales are with a 



huge mass of uneducated readers who fol- 
low mass movements; and the mass move- 
ments are engineered by parties. I do not 
think that the number of the real con- 
noisseurs has diminished; on the contrary, 
I believe it has substantially increased, 
in France as in England. But they have 
been swamped by multitudes of the uned- 
ucated who have been taught to read. 
Every good writer is tempted to become 
a bad writer in order to raise his sales to 
50,000. And many bad writers nat- 
urally flourish. 

France is disastrously divided into 
Right and Left. Right is Catholic and 
capitalist conservative; Left is radical, 
Socialist, Communist and anti-religious. 
The bourgeoisie buys books; the Left does 
not buy books. The Right rules over the 
really best-selling big reviews, the Revue 
des Deux Mondes, the Revue de Paris and 
over most of the literary weeklies. The 
critics, in order to earn a living, have to 
write under orders. The worst is that these 
orders do not even need to be given them, 
as the critics are only too eager to an- 
ticipate them: otherwise they are turned 
out of their places. And since, besides, 
the critics are mostly novelists who have 
to criticize each other's novels and can re- 
taliate on each other's sales, and since 
the publishers finance most of the review- 
ing, what is to be done ? Literary criticism 
has practically ceased to exist. The 
Nouvelle Revue Frangaise, which has a 
great tradition and is still partly upheld 
by the splendidly independent spirit of 
such people as Gide and Schlumberger, is 
yet a battlefield of contrary tendencies. 
It puts up a brave fight and publishes 

I, Catholic as well as Communist writers; 

[I but thus it only reflects the surrounding 
chaos, and what else can it do? 

I would like, with due apologies, to 

jj mention my own case which was taken 
as typical by the Chicago Tribune on just 

[' this theme. I published last year a History 
of Religions in French. It was very widely 
reviewed. Not one per cent of the articles 
dealt with either its value as scholarship 

or its literary value. (It was more a literary 
than a scholarly attempt.) Like well- 
drilled troops, all the newspapers of 
the Right condemned the book because 
it was not a Catholic book; and all the 
newspapers of the Left condemned it 
because it was not an anti-religious book. 
A better illustration of the state of things 
in France can hardly be found. Charitable 
readers may be pleased to know that the 
French public took no notice of what the 
critics said and bought the book well. 
So my censure of the critics cannot be at- 
tributed to disgruntlement. 

For, naturally enough, another feature 
of the situation is that the cultured public 
has ceased to take any notice of what the 
critics say. Probably the worst fact of all 
is that the critics themselves have ceased 
to believe what they say. The literary 
values have been swamped in political 
stunts in which religion itself is used to 
cover party publicity. 

Of course, really, all that is of no im- 
portance. What is actually the matter with 
literature, in France as everywhere else, 
is that at the moment there are no great 
predominant personalities; no geniuses, 
if you like the word. Therefore business 
reigns. But there is no reason to despair 
of the future; genius, when it appears, 
mostly comes into its own, as Proust and 
D. H. Lawrence have proved; but we can- 
not have geniuses all the time. Meanwhile 
we can always comfort our minds with 
the masterpieces of the past, which, in any 
case, we never study sufficiently. The 
present excitement in France over Kierke- 
gaard, who died in 1855, is a good exam- 
ple; and since the excitement seems likely 
to extend to England, as proved by E. L. 
Allen's book {Kierkegaard: His Life and 
Thought. By E. L. Allen. London: Stan- 
ley Nott. 1936.), and also to change the 
reader's thoughts from an unpleasant to a 
pleasant subject, I shall end by quoting 
a passage from Jean Wahl's excellent 
article in the Nouvelle Revue Frangaise 
of April, 1932. Kierkegaard does duty 
instead of a great French writer now 



missing. And Jean Wahl proves that 
some serious critics, after all, do still 
exist in France: 

'L'angoisse est liee a V esprit. Moins il y 
a d' esprit^ moins il y a d'angoisse. L esprit 
cest en effet la force ennemie qui vient 
troubler le repos du corps et Vinnocence 
de Fame et leur calme union. Uesprit 
eprouve de I'angoisse devant lui-meme. II 
s'exprime d'abord comme angoisse. 

'En realite I'angoisse est partout chez 
Vhomme; elle est dans le paganisme^ devant 
Vambiguite des oracles^ devant celle du 
destin; et d'une fagon generale^ la beaute 
grecque est profondement^ inexplicablement 
soufrante. On dirait quelle est angoissee 
devant F absence d' angoisse. 

'Plus rhomme est eleve^ plus il est an- 
goisse. Au Mont des Oliviers^ Dieu dans 
Vangoisse se sent delaisse de Dieu^ et de- 
mande h Judas dejaire vite. Et Jesus Christ 
sera en agonie jusqu a la Jin du monde. 

'Mais de meme quil y a une angoisse 
devant le mal^ il y a une angoisse devant le 
bien, et nous sommes ici dans la sphere du 
demoniaque diabolique. Or^ il y a un tel 
demoniaque dans chaque homme^ aussi 
surement que chaque homme est pecheur. 
Ce nest plus la possibilite de la necessite^ 
cest-a-dire le mal^ qui est angoisse^ cest 
le bieny la possibilite meme de la libertS. 

'Se plagant dans la lignee de Boehme et 
de Blakcy devangant Rimbaud^ Dostoievski 
et Nietzsche Kierkegaard ecrit: "Le do- 
maine du demoniaque aurait besoin d'etre 

Shakespeare under Hitler 

r\ VIOLENT controversy over Shake- 
speare has arisen in Germany. It was 
started by a certain Hans Rothe, who has 
been trying for many years to replace the 
* classic ' and almost sacred Schlegel-Tieck 

translations by his own, which attempt to 
present Shakespeare in a modernized ver- 
sion. The Schlegel-Tieck translations 
have been the most successful among the 
scores of Shakespeare translations of the 
last one hundred and fifty years. Rothe 
claims that these romantic translations 
have now lost their popularity, and he 
has been trying for some ten years to put 
over his own version of Shakespeare, 
which, he maintains, is better adapted to 
the present-day mind, as well as to the 
modern stage. He attempts to present the 
genuine Shakespeare, freed from all the 
dross of inferior co-authors. His theory on 
this latter point is based largely on the so- 
called 'sound-analysis' of Professor Ed- 
uard Sievers, who has devised a method 
of analyzing the sound and has found that 
each writer's diction is just as unique as a 
fingerprint, thus rendering it possible to 
distinguish the styles of one writer from 
another. Rothe is supported by the Ger- 
man producers, who to a large extent 
play his versions (although they have to 
pay royalties for them, while the old ver- 
sions, of course, are free of charge). He is 
strongly opposed by philologists, acad- 
emicians and a large number of critics 
who charge that his German is slangy and 
his methods semi-scientific. 

One might have thought that on so 
eminently unpolitical a subject as this, a 
little honest difference of opinion could be 
tolerated even in the Third Reich. But ap- 
parently not. Recently Dr. Goebbels, 
Minister of Propaganda and Public En- 
lightenment, announced that he was 
about to appoint a committee of experts 
to decide once and for all which transla- 
tions should be sanctioned. After the deci- 
sion has been rendered it will presumably 
be unlawfiil to use the translations which 
lose out. 


American Neutrality in British 


HE former editor of the London 
News Chronicle, Mr. Aylmer Vallance, 
visited the United States recently, 
speaking to audiences of various sorts, 
and observing the political and social 
scene. Upon his return to England he 
contributed the following impressions 
to the New Statesman and Nation: 

The European student of affairs who 
visits the United States in this 'election 
year' phase of President Roosevelt's ad- 
ministration may be pardoned if he sails 
for Europe a sadly disillusioned man. That 
is, supposing him to be a Socialist, or one 
who pins his faith in a League of Nations' 
system reinforced by American adhesion. 
For in that case, between gang-plank and 
gang-plank, he will have sought evidence 
that America desires constructively to 
establish at home a saner, juster economic 
order, and abroad to play in international 
politics a fuller, more responsible role. He 
will have sought, but not found. 

Twice in the past twenty years the 
mass-emotion of the least logically-minded 
nation on earth has been stirred and di- 
rected to idealistic ends by leaders who 

[i( were, in one case, an inadequately in- 
formed visionary and, in the other, a 
partially sincere sentimentalist. President 

\ Wilson spellbound the American people 
in a period of fine-phrased emotionalism, 
and led them to think temporarily in 
terms of world order and justice. The bill 

K* for idealism shed American blood, clam- 
orous veterans, war debts unpaid was 
"leavy. Wilson died, defeated and un- 
lourned; Kellogg framed Pacts; kindly, 
5tupid Stimson courted Sir John Simon's 
^acidulated snubs over V affaire japonaise. 
The American man-in-the-street reculti- 
yated indiflferentism; he 'had had some' in 

the sphere of foreign affairs; the domestic 
'ticker-boom' of the late twenties was 
good enough for him. 

And then came crash and panic. In that 
chaos of closed banks, nation-wide un- 
employment and the vast disarray of 
capitalism 'in a jam,' Franklin D. Roose- 
velt imposed himself momentarily on the 
imagination of America as ' the man who 
knew a remedy.' Manned by 'experts,' 
brain-trust at the helm, the ship of state 
was set on a course whose land-fall was to 
be 'controlled' capitalism, justice for the 
under-dog, reasonable prosperity for all. 
But today half the crew marooned, the 
compass lost overboard, the ship swings 
idly, becalmed. Only the captain, who 
never really believed in any attainable 
harbor, continues to smile indomitably on. 

What has happened ? Let Russian Ned, 
sometime hand on a Volga barge, now 
American elector on 'relief work pay-roll, 
who conversed with the writer on a hurri- 
cane-wrecked strip of coral beach midway 
between Miami and Key West, supply in 
part the answer: 'One buck sixty a day. 
Dat's lousy. Can't do more dan youst 
keep body and soul togedder. Now if dey 
wanted to give us peoples a break, why 
not give us youst one hundred dollars? 
Den I start hot-dog wagon near Miami. 
Make fortune one year, two year, sure.' 

Significant, this comment, not merely 
of the traditionally 'solid South's' in- 
gratitude for WPA benefits received; it is 
symptomatic of the whole American na- 
tion's attitude towards fate and the future. 
That field-marshal's baton in the private 
soldier's knapsack; that imperishable 
hope, which keeps civil peace in the prole- 
tarian hovels of Pittsburgh and Baltimore; 
that great 'if:' if only 'a break' be vouch- 
safed by luck, Packard cars, Park Avenue 
apartments, all the carefree enjoyments of 
successful materialism are within a man's 




It is a * loo per cent American' attitude 
of mind which has done more than any- 
thing else to smash Roosevelt's electoral 
prospects and drive America, in reverse 
gear, towards self-centered isolationism. 
New York City Europe's westernmost 
metropolis is not America; Wall Street's 
perfervid animosity against the New Deal- 
ers would of itself cut little electoral ice; 
the 'Save the Constitution' Liberty 
League officered by hard-shell corpora- 
tion lawyers and financed by the du Pont 
armament interests would be a 'flop,' 
were it not that the philosophy of individ- 
ualism in its crudest, early Victorian form 
still hypnotizes the soul of America. The 
dark days of the depression have been 
firmly put out of mind, though they may 
still linger in the subconscious as a sub- 
merged complex. 'Get under' is once 
again no longer a terror, because ' get on ' 
is, to all seeming, a realizable hope. 

The Republican Party James (Judas) 
Warburg, Roosevelt's former confidant 
and white-headed boy, now the Adminis- 
tration's ablest and most devastating 
critic, directing the political Broadway 
rhapsody has been quick to 'cash in' on 
the recovery. Is the building industry re- 
viving, and are real estate values on the 
upturn from Boston to San Diego? Are 
Manhattan's 'Nite Clubs' {anglice supper 
bars) turning customers away? Do nickels 
and dimes flow with increasing 'velocity 
of circulation' into the eleven hundred 
' fruit' machines on which Huey Long and 
his successors have based their political 
tyranny over New Orleans? The credit 
accrues, so the predominant voices of press 
and broadcast have it, to the G.O.P.'s in- 
nate virtues, those forces of rugged in- 
dividualism which have built skyscraper 
towers, hired royal suites on transatlantic 
liners, persuaded Chicago's quiet, decent 
wage-earners that the meanest racketeer- 
ing gangster in Cicero is a hero contra 

THE cold, uncomfortable truth is that 
America today is engrossed by calcula- 

tions appertaining to the ambience of 
Monroe thought. Recovery and it is 
real, if yet only nascent is talked and 
charted, not in a world sense, but in terms 
of a continent (very nearly self-contained) 
which stretches from Hudson's Bay to 
Terra del Fuego. And in that preoccupa- 
tion with domestic chances Uncle Sam's 
1936 economic Sinn Fein interest in the 
European imbroglio is faint, remote and 

Could it be otherwise? Always must 
one reflect that in the judgment of the 
most liberal-minded, enlightened Ameri- 
cans the refusal of the United States to be- 
come a member of the League was an act 
not merely of prudence but of high think- 
ing. The League system, viewed across 
three thousand miles of storm-vexed sea, 
appears (even to the cosmopolitan eyes of 
New York) to be an integral part of the 
Versailles Treaty mechanism a political 
device whereby the 'Haves,' England and 
France, intend to buttress against the 
'Have Nots' the advantages gained by 
arms in no matter how many centuries. 
In that arena of blood and sand the Ameri- 
can people decline today to play any per- 
sonal part; they do not want even to throw 
their hats into the ring. 

There are, of course, the phil-European 
cliques, derivative from America's queer 
racial snobbery, at whose weekly dinners 
the itinerant Englishman is impressed to 
speak, and whose first toast is 'His Maj- 
esty.' But this is an absurd, unreal veneer 
on the solid wood of American life. The 
real America today is profoundly suspi- 
cious of European statesmanship, deeply 
resolved not to be embroiled in the next 
war, whose outbreak within a decade is 
accepted as inevitable. 

For one brief moment only, last au- 
tumn, did America begin to wonder if, 
after all, there might not be something in 
the 'collective system.' Though the cynics 
whispered 'electioneering for the Peace 
Ballot vote,' public opinion in the States 
was undeniably impressed by the stand 
taken at Geneva by Britain in defense of 




the principles of tlie Covenant, and partic- 
ularly by Sir Samuel Hoare's hint that the 
machinery of the League might be used, 
not merely to stereotype the status quo, 
but to remodel 'access' to colonial posses- 
sions. For some weeks America was in- 
clined to modify its original belief that 
England cared less for the integrity of 
Ethiopia than for the preservation at all 
costs of the All-Red Route to India. But 
the mood was short-lived; the shock 
created in America by the Hoare-Laval 
peace plan was profound; every suspicion 
of Franco-British sincerity was revived in 
accentuated form. America once more 
turned away in revulsion from a Europe 
whose statesmen, it seemed, could never 
get away from the old, fatal game of 
'power politics.' 

It is idle to hope that this final disillu- 
sionment of America can be readily dis- 
pelled. Unfortunate in the possession of 
an Ambassador who has got himself badly 
on the wrong side of the press, England is 
definitely mal vu in American eyes at this 
critical juncture of world aflPairs. The oil 
embargo is regarded with suspicion as a 
device whereby the United States could be 
dragged in to pull the League chestnuts 
out of the fire. Public opinion is visibly 
stiffening against any 'neutrality' legisla- 
tion which would give the Executive dis- 
cretionary power to weight the scales 
against a League-condemned aggressor. 
Whatever views of international morality 
may be entertained in the White House, 
the prevailing mood today in New York 
bar, Ohio small town store, Louisiana 
roadhouse wherever ' 100 per cent Amer- 
ica' meets to talk is: ' Count Europe out; 
ourselves alone.' 

The Impassioned Preacher of 
Royal Oak 

An AMERICAN correspondent of 
the Corriere della Seruy Milan Fascist 
daily, has sent back to his paper the 
following enthusiastic account of Father 

Coughlin, the 'impassioned preacher 

When Father Coughlin speaks over the 
radio all America listens. The banker 
in Wall Street drops his talk about busi- 
ness and listens. The farmer, lost in the far 
reaches of the West, interrupts his after- 
noon nap and listens. The young men in 
the gymnasiums; the sick in the hospitals; 
the frequenters of elegant circles; and the 
crowds of workers from the small subur- 
ban places all listen. Blacks and whites, 
Catholics and Protestants, millionaires 
and unemployed listen, but especially 
those millions of individuals who belong to 
the petite bourgeoisie of the country, which 
forms the backbone of present-day Amer- 
ica and to which the preacher of Royal 
Oak addresses himself, at four o'clock in 
the afternoon every Sunday, as to his most 
faithful followers. 

Nine years ago, when Father Coughlin 
began to deliver his first sermons over the 
radio, his name was completely unknown, 
the sanctuary of the Little Flower was a 
tiny country church attended by scarcely 
fifty people, and the words of his sermons, 
broadcast by a small radio station in De- 
troit, were heard by no more than a few 
thousand radio fans. Today Father Cough- 
lin is the most popular man in the United 
States. The Sanctuary has become the 
goal of enormous pilgrimages; the radio 
network used for the broadcasts includes 
thirty-five stations covering the whole 
nation; and the army of listeners, for the 
most part organized into an association 
which has taken the name of 'National 
Union for Social Justice,' is coming to be a 
political force capable of disturbing seri- 
ously, if not of upsetting completely, the 
old balance of the traditional parties. 

Indeed, to say merely that Father 
Coughlin is the most widely heard speaker 
in America is to say too little, because the 
preacher of Royal Oak, until a few years 
ago the modest priest of a still more 
modest country parish, has now become 
the authoritative head of a vast social, 



economic and moral movement which, 
translated into terms of political action 
and focused on the definite carrying out 
of its program, might someday undertake 
the task of renovating the ruling circles 
and the administrative organizations of 
the United States a renovation which is 
today one of the most insistent aspirations 
of the American people. 

Bundled up in an ample cloak and wear- 
ing a gray felt hat pulled down over his 
eyes. Father Coughlin continues to be for 
all the parishioners of Royal Oak a good 
country priest ready to hurry wherever 
his sacred duty calls him. But in his voice 
there vibrates an energy, secure and 
serene, which dominates and conquers. It 
is thanks to this energy that he has been 
able to broaden the spiritual confines of 
his parish from one shore of the United 
States to the other, and that his flock has 
been transformed into a disciplined and 
faithful army. 

'We shall continue to struggle with all 
our powers,' he told me, 'against the 
aberrations of a voracious capitalism, 
against the menace of a disintegrating and 
oppressive Communism, and for the 
triumph of the Christian principles of 
social justice.* 

Then he turned to the subject of the 
Italo-Abyssinian conflict and the League 

'As an American, and in the interests of 
the American people, I shall not weaken 
in my fight against the political force 
which in this country is seeking to drag 
America with the tow-lines of English 
banking capitalism or Russian Commu- 
nism against the Italy of Benito Mussolini 
in order to increase the sanctions, which 
are so much the more iniquitous and 
ignoble because they have been under- 
taken to damage a great and civilized na- 
tion. The sanctions will not overthrow 

Italy. They are the result of a plot which 
has been slowly woven with the active 
support of international Masonry, the ex- 
ponents of high finance, and of Commu- 
nism, all allied at Geneva to defeat Fascism. 
Now, since Masonry, high finance, and 
Communism are also our enemies, as 
Americans and Catholics we shall not 
abandon the struggle until the conspiracy 
has been completely frustrated.* 


llERE is another fragment from 
Pierre Girard's impressions of Amer- 
ica, which have been appearing in the 
Journal de Geneve: 

Shall I love you someday, Philadelphia, 
Philadelphia, where in the restaurant-bars 
Angels bring luscious roast-beef? I already 
love the murmuring of the wind as it 
blows around the churches, and, above 
all, the absence of mystery, which be- 
comes very mystery itself. And later, 
when I have explained America to my 
friends for long stretches, and no one 
thinks of asking me about it any more, I 
shall discover new reasons for love, and 
new melodies not heard before. 

The tiny street, with its similar houses, 
red brick, * guillotine' windows framed 
with white stone as one walks along its 
sidewalk, with its uneven flags, it ends by 
winning your heart. And one could spend 
his life following this street, which, under a 
thousand names and a thousand numbers, 
comes back again and again to offer itself, 
in the South as well as in the North. The 
garage and the church, the red and blue 
paint, and the gothic gray, the electric 
sign, and the convocation of the faithful, 
in gold on black why should not all this 
form one -of those memories which, sud- 
denly, their day having come, sigh, awake, 
and sing.? 


Mr. Keynes Solves the Riddle 
The General Theory of Employment, 
Interest and Money. By J. M. 
Keynes. London: Macmillan and Com- 
pany. igj6. 
(G. D. H. Cole in the New Statesman and Nation) 

UNEMPLOYMENT is, in the view of 
most people, the disease that is threat- 
ening our present capitalist societies with 
destruction. There are, indeed, some who 
protest that unemployment is not an evil, 
but will be a positive good as soon as we 
consent to convert it into leisure and to 
distribute it aright among the whole peo- 
ple. And there are others who maintain 
that unemployment is not a disease, but 
only a symptom of something far more 
deeply wrong with the economic systems 
under which we live. But against the apos- 
tles of leisure commonsense urges that 
until most people are a good deal richer 
than today most of them will prefer more 
goods to more leisure if they are given the 
choice. And against those who regard un- 
employment as no more than a symptom 
it can fairly be argued that the distinction 
between symptom and disease is not so 
absolute as rhetoric can make it appear. 

At all events most statesmen and most 
economists profess to be in search of a cure 
for unemployment and to regard this quest 
as at any rate one of the most important 
economic ends. The trouble is that they 
differ profoundly about the methods that 
are calculated to secure their object. Of 
late years quite a chorus of voices from 
the City, from the business world, and 
from the academic groves of Cambridge 
and London has been assuring us that 
the abnormally high unemployment of 
post- War years is the consequence chiefly 
of the 'rigidity' of wages that is, of the 
folly of workmen under Trade Union in- 
fluences in valuing their labor at higher 
rates than the market will bear. Let wages 

fall till they coincide with the 'marginal 
productivity' of the last laborer, and all 
will be well. So we have been told, with so 
much punditory self-assurance that it has 
been quite difficult for the plain man, con- 
fronted with a series of unintelligible 
equations, not to begin thinking that it 
may perhaps be true. 

There have been, of course, other voices 
Mr. J. A. Hobson's, for example, 
preaching a very different doctrine and 
telling us that ' linder-consumption ' is at 
the root of all our difficulties. What is 
wanted, on this showing, is more consum- 
ing power; for ultimately the entire vol- 
ume of economic activity is necessarily 
limited by consumption. Investment is 
useless unless there is a market for the 
consumers' goods which it can be applied 
to making; for all demand is, in the last 
resort, a demand for goods and services to 
be consumed. But these voices, in respect- 
able circles, have been drowned by the 
outraged clamor of the orthodox. ' Under- 
consumption ' has remained a disreputable 
heresy; and of late, though Marx himself 
can be quoted on its side. Communist 
Marxists, such as Mr. John Strachey, have 
denounced it with hardly less gusto than 
they have directed against the more 
orthodox view presumably because when 
they are dealing with capitalist or other 
non-Marxist economists they work on the 
principle of 'the horrider, the better.' 

But now there comes, from one who is 
no Socialist and is indisputably one of the 
world's leading economists trained in the 
classical tradition, a book which with all 
the armory of the classical method pushes 
at one blow off their pedestals all the clas- 
sical deities from Ricardo to Wicksell, and 
all their attendant self-canonized sprites 
from Vienna and the London School, and 
puts in their vacant places not indeed 
Marx, but Mr. J. A. Hobson and the late 
Silvio Gesell. For Mr. J. M. Keynes, after 




many uneasy years of wandering amid the 
classical abstractions years whose stig- 
mata are still upon him has discovered 
that after all, in the matters which practi- 
cally matter most, Ricardo and Vienna 
and LxDndon and Cambridge have all this 
time been talking nonsense, whereas 
Gesell and Hobson (and Malthus in his 
most maligned moments) have had hold 
of the right end of the stick. 

Mr. Keynes is evidently conscious of the 
supreme challenge which his new book of- 
fers to the entire economic practice of 
capitalism, and to the relevance and con- 
clusiveness of the fundamental economic 
theories put forward by most of his aca- 
demic colleagues. Otherwise, he would 
hardly have published at five shillings a 
book of nearly four hundred pages which 
most trained economists will find stiff 
reading and most other people at some 
points wholly beyond their comprehen- 
sion. By putting the book forward at such 
a price, Mr. Keynes is saying in effect: 
'This is no ordinary book. It is a book that 
has to be understood because it really 
matters. It marks an epoch in economic 
thought.' And, in claiming this, Mr. 
Keynes is, without the smallest shadow of 
doubt, absolutely right. His new book is 
the most important theoretical economic 
writing since Marx's Capitaly or, if only 
classical economics is to be considered as 
comparable, since Ricardo's Principles. 

IN THE challenge which Mr. Keynes has 
thrown down to his orthodox colleagues, 
there are, of course, many elements that 
are not new. Indeed, Mr. Keynes's most 
signal service is that he has brought to- 
gether, coordinated and rationalized many 
criticisms of orthodoxy which have hith- 
erto been ineffective because they have 
been disjointed and unrelated to any clear 
body of fundamental theory. There are 
many points at which Mr. Keynes's al- 
ternative construction is open to chal- 
lenge. But it does give the critics of eco- 
nomic orthodoxy solid ground on which 
they can set their feet. 

There is no space here for more than the 
briefest indication of Mr. Keynes's argu- 
ments. His book is in form chiefly an at- 
tempt to determine the underlying condi- 
tions which in a capitalistically organized 
society determine the actual volume of 
unemployment. The classical economists, 
either explicitly or more often by implica- 
tion, have been accustomed to set out 
from the assumption of 'full employment* 
as normal, and to prove their general 
theories without regard to the possibility 
of variations in total employment, treat- 
ing the actual occurrence of unemploy- 
ment as a deviation from the normal, due 
to some exceptional factor such as mone- 
tary mismanagement or the rigidity of 
wages. Mr. Keynes himself, in his earlier 
writings, had not got far from this method, 
though his explanation was different, for 
he formerly traced unemployment largely 
to divergences between the 'natural' and 
the market rates of interest. But he has 
now seen that for the economic system as 
it is 'full employment' cannot be treated 
as normal, and that the problem is to de- 
vise an economic order which will secure 
'equilibrium' on a basis of 'full employ- 
ment' and not by preventing booms at the 
cost of making semi-depression perma- 

Mr. Keynes now sees the factor which 
determines the total volume of employ- 
ment under capitalism as the maintenance 
of investment at an adequate level. This 
seems, at first sight, to put him sharply in 
opposition to the 'under-consumption- 
ists;' but actually it makes him their ally. 
For the will to invest depends, in Mr. 
Keynes's phrase, on the 'marginal effi- 
ciency of capital,' which may be roughly 
translated as the marginal expectation of 
profit from investment over its entire life, 
as far as this is actually taken into ac- 
count by the investor. This expectation, 
however, depends absolutely on the de- 
mand for consumers' goods; and accord- 
ingly the maintenance of investment at a 
satisfactory level depends on the main- 
tenance of consumption. 




In orthodox theories, consumption and 
investment stand in an antithetical rela- 
tion. But Mr. Keynes is able to show the 
falsity of this view, except on the assump- 
tion that the available productive re- 
sources are being fully employed. More 
consumption, he shows, stimulates more 
investment, as well as more investment 
more consumption, up to the point at 
which full employment has been secured. 
In his earlier work, Mr. Keynes stressed 
the difference between 'saving,' which is 
mere abstinence from consumption, and 
investment, which is the positive use of the 
'saving' in the creation of capital. He 
now restates his doctrine, so as to em- 
phasize that, while from the collective 
standpoint 'saving' and 'investment' 
must be equal (for the only way of really 
saving is to invest), the processes of in- 
dividual saving and individual investment 
are wholly distinct. Accordingly the at- 
tempts of individuals to save can, from 
the social point of view, be rendered 
wholly abortive by the failure of entre- 
preneurs to borrow these savings and ap- 
ply them to real investment; and this 
failure, wherever it occurs, is bound to 
cause unemployment. 

Mr. Keynes believes that failure of this 
sort is an inherent defect of the present 
economic system, and that it can be cured 
only by public action, taking at least three 
related forms. He wants the State to con- 
trol the supply of money so as to secure its 
adequacy for maintaining full employ- 
ment; and this involves a repudiation of 
the gold standard, or of any fixed inter- 
national monetary standard, and also a 
decisive repudiation of all those econo- 
mists who wish to stabilize the supply of 
money. Secondly, he wants the State to 
control the rates of interest (mainly by ad- 
justing the supply of money) in order to 
keep these rates down to a point which 
will make investment worth while up to 
the level of 'full employment.' This in- 
volves a complete repudiation of the 
orthodox view that interest rates are self- 
adjusting to a 'natural' level. Thirdly, he 

wants the State largely to take over, or at 
any rate control, the amount and direction 
of investment, with the object of main- 
taining full employment on the basis of a 
balanced economic development. 

These are Mr. Keynes's most funda- 
mental points of advocacy. But perhaps 
most attention of all will be popularly 
focused on his views about wages. For he 
reduces to sheer absurdity the prevalent 
view that lower wages are a cure for un- 
employment. He begins by pointing out 
that this view rests on a fundamental con- 
fusion of thought between money wages 
and real wages. It assumes that, broadly, 
these can be spoken of together, and that 
if workmen could be persuaded to accept 
lower money wages, their real wages would 
fall. Actually, he points out, real wages 
have often risen when money wages have 
been reduced, and he offers reasons why 
this should be so. The reduction in money 
wages, unless it is expected to be soon re- 
versed, sets up an expectation of falling 
costs and prices, which positively dis- 
courages investment by reducing the 
'marginal efficiency of capital.' Thus in- 
stead of increasing employment, it re- 
duces it, even if it raises the real wages of 
those who remain in work. Mr. Keynes 
considers that the tendency of Trade 
Unions to keep up money wages in times 
of depression is positively good for the 
capitalist system and makes the depres- 
sion less severe than it would be if the 
workmen yielded to the blandishments of 
Professor Robbins and his like. 

There is in Mr. Keynes's challenge an 
enormous amount more than it has been 
possible even to mention in this necessarily 
brief summary of his central argument. 
But enough has been said to show that the 
book is one which must, sooner or later, 
cause every orthodox text-book to be 
fundamentally rewritten. It is true that 
Mr. Keynes's conclusion is not that we 
should destroy the system of 'private 
enterprise,' but only that we should drasti- 
cally refashion it. Mr. Keynes rejects 
complete Socialism, and looks forward to a 




society in which private and collective 
enterprise will live together, but the 
rentier class will have practically dis- 
appeared for the maintenance of full 
employment with the aid of investment 
kept up to the requisite point by State 
action will, he thinks, reduce the rate of 
interest almost to vanishing point. 

But this part of his argument is but 
briefly sketched in his closing chapter and 
is not a necessary deduction from his 
analysis. What he has done, triumphantly 
and conclusively, is to demonstrate the 
falsity even from a capitalist standpoint of 
the most cherished practical 'morals' of 
the orthodox economists and to construct 
an alternative theory of the working of 
capitalist enterprise so clearly nearer to 
the facts that it will be impossible for it to 
be ignored or set aside. 

[Mr. Keynes's General Theory of Employ- 
ment, Interest and Money has been pub- 
lished in the United States by Harcourt^ 
Brace and Company of New Tork. The 
price of the American edition is $2.00] 

Law and the League 

The League of Nations and the Rule 
OF Law, 191 8-1935. J57 Sir Alfred Zim- 
mem. London: Macmillan and Company. 

(Gilbert Murray in the Manchester Guardian y 


should now call him, Sir Alfred, writes 
with knowledge and authority. What is 
more, he writes with wit, vividness, and 
charm. He has succeeded in what to most 
people would seem the impossible task of 
writing not merely a valuable but a posi- 
tively exciting and almost thrilling book 
about the League of Nations. 

Of course he pays a price for these ad- 
vantages. That is inevitable. In the han- 
dling of his material he selects and rejects 
ruthlessly. In the expression of his con- 
clusions he seldom gives much considera- 
tion to opposing arguments; he has a taste 

for paradox and for 'chastising whom he 
loves.' One remembers the brilliant lec- 
tures he used to give at Geneva, criticizing 
day by day the proceedings of the Assem- 
bly on the day before, and how a member 
of the half-submissive and half-indignant 
audience which crowded to hear him once 
exclaimed that the League was nursing a 
serpent in its bosom. 'Not a serpent,' said 
his companion, 'only a bee or a wasp 
whose stings will cure its rheumatism!' 
Some of the harshest criticisms in his book 
are directed against General Smuts and 
Lord Cecil; he quotes with praise a highly 
sophistical attack on Geneva by Signor 
Grandi, and he applies the epithet 'he- 
roic' to Mr. MacDonald's disarmament 

His analysis of the Covenant is ex- 
tremely interesting. He finds in it five 
strands, one of them new, the other four 
derived from pre- War diplomacy but im- 
proved out of all recognition. First, a 
Concert of the Powers, not confined to the 
Great Powers, at which any nation whose 
interest is concerned must be present. 
Secondly, a 'universalized Monroe Doc- 
trine,' guaranteeing all members against 
external aggression. Thirdly, a vastly im- 
proved Hague Conference, with perma- 
nent organs for inquiry, mediation, ar- 
bitration, and judicial settlement of 
disputes. Fourthly, an extension of the 
idea of the universal postal union to cover 
all kinds of international 'public utilities.' 
Only the fifth is definitely a product of 
post- War thinking: 'an agency for the 
mobilization of the hue and cry against 
war as a matter of universal concern and 
a crime against the world community.' 

No less acute is Sir Alfred's division of 
the League's history into four phases to 
which the reader may devoutly hope that 
a fifth will succeed. First, an embryonic 
condition up to 1920 in which as psycho- 
analysts will be pleased to hear irrepara- 
ble harm was done affecting the poor 
thing's whole lifetime. The desertion of the 
United States; the retreat of Great Britain 
from its 'hue-and-cry' responsibilities 




under articles 10 and 16; earlier still, the 
dropping from the Covenant of the pro- 
posed clauses for the 'removal of economic 
barriers and the establishment of an 
equality of trade conditions,' for 'equality 
of races and religions,' and for the 'pro- 
hibition of the private traffic in arma- 
ments.' Perhaps these provisions could 
not have been carried even then, when 
minds were really on the move and nations 
ready to make sacrifices for peace; but one 
looks back at them in 1936 as a drowning 
man might look at the raft that he once 
rejected and which is now out of his reach. 

Next came a period of struggle and en- 
thusiasm, in which particularly the Secre- 
tariat found its strength and developed 
into a great international service under the 
guidance of such men as Sir Eric Drum- 
mond and Sir Arthur Salter for the League 
and M. Albert Thomas for the I.L.O. 
This period culminated in the Protocol of 
1924, a brave attempt to make the League 
into all that it was intended to be and all 
that various Governments, especially the 
British, were determined it should not be. 

Then came a period first of retreat and 
then of cautious and successful advance: 
the rejection of the Protocol and its re- 
placement by the Locarno treaties; the 
decision of Sir Austen Chamberlain as 
Foreign Secretary to attend the Council 
regularly and to make the League not a 
sort of idealist extra but a central part of 
the work of the Foreign Office; the co- 
operation, achieved just once and never 
again, of England, France and Germany 
under Chamberlain, Briand and Strese- 
mann; the entry of Germany into the 
League, the evacuation of the Rhineland 
five years before it was due, the gradual 
dropping of reparations, and the dawning 
hope of a European union. 

Then in the fourth stage came two 
great disasters, the death of Stresemann 
the one man who could convince his 
countrymen that on grounds of pure Real- 
politiky with no Liberal or idealist non- 
sense, Germany's interests demanded a 
policy of international cooperation and 

soon afterwards the world-wide economic 

Two Englishmen struggled hard against 
the flood of reaction and narrow national- 
ism that now set in: William Graham and 
Arthur Henderson; but the tide was too 
strong. Instead of cooperation there was 
xenophobia; instead of a growing freedom 
of trade a savage effort by every nation 
to build its own prosperity on the ruin of 
its neighbor; an intensification of eco- 
nomic distress which led to the triumph of 
the most dangerous elements in Japan, 
Germany and Italy and to bitter internal 
struggles elsewhere; to war after war which 
the League failed to stop; and, lastly, to 
the disaster which dominates the whole of 
our present policies, the failure of the 
Disarmament Conference and the conse- 
quent rearmament of Germany. Sir Alfred 
treats the whole question of armaments as 
a matter of minor importance, but he will 
find few students of the subject to agree 
with him. 

There ends the fourth period in an 
atmosphere of defeat, reaction, and im- 
minent fear of war. Is that to be really the 
close of the story? Sir Alfred says more 
than once that there is no such thing as a 
'League of Nations' policy. Perhaps the 
truth is that there is such a thing, but it 
cannot exist in a world of economic na- 
tionalism and competitive armaments. 

[Sir Alfred Zimmem's The League of 
Nations and the Rule of Law is to be pub- 
lished in the United States by The Mac- 
millan Company of New Tork. 'The price 
of the American edition is $4.5o\ 

Pre- War Diplomacy 

Before The War: Studies in Diplo- 
macy. By G. P. Gooch. Volume I: The 
Grouping of the Powers. London: Long- 
mans and Company. 1936. 

(J. L. Hammond in the Manchester Guardian, 

'T^HERE can be few persons in Europe 

there are certainly none in England 

who have so thorough a knowledge as Dr. 




Gooch of the history of Europe in the 
anxious years that led up to the Great 
War. In the book published today he has 
chosen a most interesting method of mak- 
ing his knowledge at once useful and en- 
tertaining to his readers. In a series of 
vivid sketches he has taken five of the For- 
eign Ministers who were concerned in the 
high politics of the time and discusses the 
problems they had to face, the nature and 
importance of their contribution and 
their own qualities of character and in- 
tellect. In this way the reader can decide 
for himself a number of interesting ques- 
tions: how far, for example, public opinion 
was a force in the days of secret diplomacy, 
how far this or that politician succeeded 
either in his larger or his smaller aims and 
how far those aims promoted or damaged 
the general interests of Europe. 

Dr. Gooch uses for the most part docu- 
ments that reveal the inner history of 
events rather than public speeches, and 
this, of course, adds to the dramatic inter- 
est of his pages as well as to their value. 
His method has a further advantage. It 
enables the reader to look at diflferent situ- 
ations in turn from different points of 
view, and it helps him to realize what a 
strong case each actor believed he could 
make for his own policy. The men studied 
in this volume are Lansdowne, Delcasse, 
Billow, Izwolsky, Aehrenthal. A later 
volume will be devoted to Grey, Poincare, 
Bethmann-Hollweg, Sazonoff, and Berch- 
told. It is safe to say that the two volumes 
will form a commentary of incomparable 
importance on the history of the great 
game of chess that ended in the war. 

The Poets of 1935 

The Year's Poetry. London: Bodley 
Head. 1935. 

(Siegfried Sassoon in the Spectator, London) 

QN NEW YEAR'S DAY I went to see 

my Aunt Eudora. In spite of having 

been born on the day of the outbreak of 

the Crimean War, she was looking re- 

markably well, and it soon became appar- 
ent that she was as vigorous and emphatic 
as ever in the expression of her opinions. 
Aunt Eudora is, among other things, a 
sound judge of poetry. Always a believer 
in keeping abreast of the times, she has 
watched many poetic fashions appear 
and pass away, while maintaining her 
own sturdily independent attitude to- 
ward them an attitude based on a solid 
grounding in the best poetry from 
Chaucer onwards and sustained by the 
possession of what she calls * a nose like a 
hound for anything first-rate.' 

On January i, 1936, however, she 
wasn't in the best of tempers. In her hand 
was a small book bound in orange- 
vermilion cloth, and what it contained 
had evidently distressed her. 

T can't make head nor tail of the poetry 
of the year 1935!' she exclaimed, almost 
angrily, though she is by nature a good- 
natured old lady. 

'W'hatever made you buy it?' I asked. 

Her tenaciously retentive memory en- 
abled her to reply: "Tt is unique as the 
anthology which, year by year, can give a 
really adequate idea of the poetry that is 
being written in our time." That's what 
one of those Radical weeklies said about 
the book, so I sent for it.' 

As an afterthought she added: Tt won't 
be long before I'm in the next world 
and I want to have something new to 
tell dear Mr. William Morris when I get 

Aunt Eudora had, from her girlhood, 
been faithful to pre-Raphaelitism, which 
was, she maintained, *a Movement and 
not a Fashion, in spite of all those mawk- 
ish artistic females who went about 
swathed in garments of dim green arras, 
spouting Dante Rossetti's poems. I always 
stuck up for Christina,' she said, 'and 
nobody denies now that she was the best 
of them.' 

Suppressing a strong desire to keep her 
talking about the great Victorians she 
had once been in a cab accident with 
Robert Browning, and George Meredith 




had enphrased her as 'handmaid to 
Creative Spirit on tip-toe' I persuasively 
removed 'The Years Poetry from her lace- 
mittened old-ivory hand, passed her the 
filigreed smelling-salt bottle, and sug- 
gested that we should investigate the 
up-to-date volume in cerebral collabora- 

'We'll just dodge about and see what 
we can make of it,' I remarked. 'The 
poets are arranged in order of age. The 
first dozen or so are either safely estab- 
lished or past praying for, so we'll leave 
them alone. But before we start, just 
repeat a few lines you're fond of, so that 
we can begin by reminding ourselves what 
poetry used to be like before 1935.' 

' 'They have no songy the sedges dry^ 

And still they sing. 
It is within my breast they singy 

As I pass by. 
Within my breast they touch a stringy 

They wake a sigh. 
There is but sound of sedges dry; 

In me they sing. 

'That's by Mr. Meredith, and it's good 
enough for an old stick like me.' She 
spoke bluntly, but there had been a catch 
in her voice while she quoted. And I 
wondered to myself and not for the first 
time either whether any poetry matters 
except the poetry that springs direct 
from the heart. 

A little reluctantly, perhaps, I opened 
the book, and gave her the opening 
stanza of In the Squarey by W. H. Auden. 

*0 for doors to be open and an invite with 

gilded edges 
To dine with Lord Lobcock and Count 

Asthma on the platinum benches y 
With the somersaults and fireworksy the 
roast and the smacking kisses . . . 
Cried the six cripples to the silent 

The six beggared cripples.' 

'Good gracious, darling, how perfectly 
extraordinary! I don't like it at all!' 

exclaimed Aunt Eudora, resorting to her 

'It does sound a bit odd,' I admitted, 
adding, 'A lot of people think highly of 
Auden, you know. The younger generation 
regard him as a very live wire indeed.' 

'I'm sure they're right. He certainly 
gave me a shock. Try someone else now, 

'Well, here's one called Doctrinal Point 
by William Empson: 

' The god approached dissolves into the air. 

Magnolias y for instancCy when in budy 
Are right in doing anything they can think 


Free by predestination in the bloody 
Saved by their own sapy shed for themselves y 
Their texture can impose their architecture; 
Their sapient matter is already informed.' 

Stop!' cried Aunt Eudora. 'What sort 
of poetry is that?' 

'It's metaphysical. And the more you 
know about things, the more you know 
what it means.' 

'Metafiddlesticks! I never heard such 
flat lines in my life.' 

Seeing that I'd failed again, I embarked 
on To a Chinese Girly by Ronald Bottrall. 

'Tour grapnel eyes dredging my body 

Haul up the uncharted silty efface 
The mudflats of impeding residue. 

Thus trenching you rive up my yesterdays: 
Exposed to suny your eastern suny not minCy 
Compromise shrivels in Confucian rays. 

Fitly proportioned pigments will combine 
In deeper valueSy but vague ampersands 
Choke the lacunae of our strict design.' 

Again she checked me with a protesting 
hand. (The word 'ampersands' had 
puzzled her.) 

' Really, Aunt Eudora, you must let me 
finish the poem. One shouldn't judge these 
things by fragments.' 

'No, dear, I'd much rather hear what 




the Chinese girl said to him. In my day 
that sort of stuff was called pretentious 
verbiage. It may be clever. If so, I'm 
stupid. Try reading the last stanza of a 
poem, please.' 

With deepening dismay, I obliged her 
with the last lines of an Ode by R. E. 

' Twining of serpents! Halitosis of lions! 

be backward from the body. 

Be speed from the wind and lightness in the 

following no sandy path from Italy ^ 

but moth-soft J palpitating^ where 

by wind's plume silver splashed 

the untroubling negro water 

Shrives with the light ^ whitely blushes' 

'W^hat is the subject of the Ode?' she 
enquired. Her eyes were closed, and she 
was beginning to look all her age. 

'Well, it seems to be about the author 
returning to England from Egypt . . .' 

No doubt it was extremely unfair to 
the anthology, but I simply hadn't the 
heart to read Aunt Eudora any more 
extracts. It was obvious that she would 
never catch up with the poetry of 1935. 
So I asked her to recite me something old- 
fashioned again before I said good-bye. 
And, oddly enough, she repeated some 
early lines by Gerard Manley Hopkins, 
that great Victorian whose later and 
much more elaborate idiom has been ap- 
plauded and imitated by the present 
* younger generation ' of poets: 

'/ have desired to go 
Where springs notfail^ 
To fields where flies no sharp and sided hail 
And a few lilies blow. 

And I have asked to be 
Where storms not come^ 
Where the green swell is in the havens dumby 
And out of the swing of the sea.' 

How lovely it sounded! And how I 
wished that the young poets of 1935 
would try to express themselves less 
artificially ! 

Words from a Hat 

A Survey of Surrealism. By David 
Gascoyne. London: Cobden-Sanderson. 

(Edward Shanks in the Sunday Times, London) 

"^ORDAU, thou shouldst be living at 
this hour! For all I know (I must in- 
terject) that eminent thinker of the end of 
the nineteenth century, the author of 
Degeneration, may, indeed, be alive at this 
hour. But if he is, he is taking current 
manifestations in art and literature in a 
spirit of remarkable docility. It must be 
admitted, however, that even he would 
find it a little hard to know how to deal 
with some of them. He discovered echola- 
lia in Rossetti, Swinburne and Morris, and 
other of the stigmata of degeneracy in 
Wagner, Ibsen, Maeterlinck, Huysmans, 
Verlaine and the rest. One cannot help 
wondering what he would have said about 
a movement the historian of which 

* Salvador Dali, a Catalan, brought with 
him into surrealism an element until then 
almost unknown to it. His most important 
contribution to surrealist experiment is his 
paranoiac method of criticism . . .' 

It would probably make his position 
more difficult that the surrealists are 
rather inclined to refer for authority to 
Dr. Freud, who is surely in general estima- 
tion one of the successors of his own be- 
loved Lombroso. 

Lacking a Nordau, we must try to make 
our own appreciation of what is, at any 
rate, an artistic phenomenon of one sort 
or another. The dadaists and their suc- 
cessors, the surrealists, may be asses, but, 
if they are, they are systematic and per- 
sistent asses, with some force of character 
somewhere among them. They have pub- 
lished a number of books, reviews, and 
manifestoes, and they have moved an Eng- 
lish gentleman of apparent intelligence to 
write a study of their endeavors. The fu- 
ture historian of the intellectual life of our 
times will not be able to avoid mentioning 




them, whatever he may say about them. 
So it is surely worth while to try to under- 
stand them now. For assistance in this di- 
rection we may be grateful to Mr. Gas- 

He begins his history of the movement 
with dadaism. The word ^ dada^ meaning 
' hobby-horse,' was the first in a dictionary 
opened at random by Tristan Tzara, a 
young Rumanian, in a cafe in Zurich in 
February, 1916. 

'The dada spirit,' says Mr. Gascoyne, 
'was something shared by a number of 
extreme individualists of various nation- 
alities, all of whom were in revolt against 
the whole of the epoch in which they lived. 
There is hardly a better expression of it 
than these words of Ribemont-Des- 
saignes:"What is beautiful? What is ugly? 
What is great, strong, weak? What is 
Carpentier, Renan, Foch? Don't know. 
What am I? Don't know. Don't know, 
don't know, don't know." 

Dada, in other, but not, I think, more 
expressive words, is intellectual nihilism 
a quite comprehensible attitude. No 
doubt neither the teaching nor the exam- 
ple of the exponents of this attitude was 
quite pure. But they had a good time, 
while keeping reasonably within its limits. 
Thus 'such was Marcel Duchamp's dis- 
gust for "art" that he invented a new 
form of expression, which he called 
"Ready-Made." A Ready-Made was any 
manufactured object that the artist liked 
to choose. For example, in 1917 he sent in 
to the New York Salon des Independants a 
simple marble lavatory-bowl, which he 
entitled Fountain^ signing it R. Mutt. 
(Needless to say, it was rejected.) ' 

Where I do not quite follow Mr. Gas- 
coyne is in his account of how surrealism 
emerged from dadaism, and in his appre- 
ciation of the distinction between the two. 
Beyond question, there was an emergence, 
and the persons concerned must feel that 
there is a distinction. 'Towards the mid- 
dle of 1 92 1,' says Mr. Gascoyne, ' a certain 
atmosphere of discontent and quarrel- 
someness was beginning to make itself 

felt.' This ended in Mr. Tzara handing 
Mr. Andre Breton and some of his associ- 
ates over to the police. In this mighty 
cataclysm surrealism was born. 

The nearest approach to sense in the 
various definitions here quoted is in that 
given by Mr. Andre Breton: 

'This word, which we have not in- 
vented, and which we could so easily have 
left in the vaguest of critical vocabularies, 
is employed by us with a precise meaning. 
We have agreed to refer by it to a certain 
psychic automatism, which more or less 
corresponds to the dream-state, a state of 
which it is by this time very difficult to 
fix the limits.' 

This enables us to understand Mr, 
Gascoyne when, indignantly denying the 
assertion that surrealism 'has no roots in 
English tradition,' he adduces the names 
of Shakespeare, Marlowe, Swift, Young, 
Coleridge, Blake, Beddoes, Lear and Car- 
roll. It plainly refers to the element of 
what is sometimes called ' magic ' in some 
at least of these poets. The surrealists be- 
lieve that it comes from the subconscious, 
and they desire deliberately to tap this 
source of inspiration. Perhaps it is the de- 
liberation which defeats them. Certainly 
Mr. Gascoyne's twenty-seven pages of 
translations disclose nothing comparable 
in literary power to Kubla Khan or '^he 
Dong with the Luminous Nose only poems 
like this: 

The quarrel between the boiled chicken and 

the ventriloquist 
had for us the meaning of a cloud of dust 
which passed above the city 
like the blowing of a trumpet 
It blew so loudly that its bowler-hat was 

and its beard stood up on end 
to bite off its nose. 

Nonsense should be care-free, and the 
surrealists seem to me to be bowed down 
with care. They even worry about the 
state of the world. Their political position, 
Mr. Gascoyne tells us, is 'unchanging 
... in opposing bourgeois society, at- 




tacking religion, patriotism and the idea 
of family, and in declaring their belief in 
the principles of Communism, and their 
solidarity with the proletariat of all coun- 
tries.' Have they arrived at this creed by 
the same process of * pure psychic autom- 
atism' by which they write their poems? 
Or should Das Kapital be given an hon- 
ored place beside ' the Pobble that had no 
toes ? ' 

Frankly, I think there has been a deca- 
dence since the fine old days of dada, 
whose disciples were wont to produce 
poems 'by extracting words at random 
from a hat.' Even Mr. Aragon (who since 
has, I regret to report, seized ' an excellent 
opportunity to betray his former friends') 
then wrote a poem 'consisting of the let- 
ters of the alphabet,' and Mr. Breton, an- 
other 'consisting of an extract from the 
telephone directory.' Bliss was it in that 
dawn to be alive; and to be quite mad 
must have been, as anyone can see, very 

But shades of the prison-house have be- 
gun to close about most of those brave 
spirits. They have put their hats and 
their telephone directories away (they 
may even have sunk so low as to use them 
for the ordinary bourgeois purposes), and 
are now trying to write nonsense in a 
more earnest and, I fear, a duller spirit. 
There is something to be said for genuine 
intellectual, or artistic, nihilism. But 
surrealism, I suspect, is for the most part 
a weak compromise with 'it all' and, for 
the more energetic surrealists, a round- 
about way back to something resembling 
sense as the rest of the world understands 

Emil Ludwig's Africa 

Der Nil. Volume I. Von der Quelle bis 
Aegypten. By Emil Ludwig. Amsterdam: 
^uerido-Verlag. 1935. 

(Balder Olden in the Neues Tage-Bucb, Paris) 

gISMARCK Wagner Goethe- 
Rembrandt Napoleon Wilhelm II 
Jesus Christ Hindenburg Mussolini 

Masaryk. In addition, shorter sketches 
of Frederick the Great, Stanley, Rhodes, 
Lenin, Wilson, Rathenau, Leonardo da 
Vinci, Shakespeare, Rembrandt, Voltaire, 
Byron, Lassalle, Schiller, Briand, Motta, 
Lloyd George, Venizelos, Stalin, and 
others. . . . 

Even this enumeration does not give a 
complete picture of the biographical and 
historical work of Emil Ludwig at the age 
of fifty-five. He has been a lyric poet, a 
dramatist, a novelist and a literary his- 
torian as well. This abundance of themes 
arouses suspicion, and one is compelled to 
believe that it can only mean too much of 
a good thing. Naturally no individual can 
have read all the original sources for such 
varied knowledge. Ludwig did not do the 
research himself; he had others do it for 
him and he gave shape to his collaborators' 
findings. He was able to do so because he 
possesses one of the most felicitous and 
facile journalistic styles of our epoch. 
Essentially he remained in the disguise 
of an historian what he always was: a 

This output, however, is always stir- 
ring. Each page gives me a feeling of in- 
sight acquired after struggle, even where 
I am antagonized by his style and his 
point of view. I wonder if literary criti- 
cism of the future will classify Ludwig 
among the dilettantes of genius who 
knew how to mirror their time with a 
thousandfold brilliance, though having 
little influence beyond it. Personally, I no 
longer think so. Emil Ludwig has just 
published the first volume of an entirely 
unexpected 'biography' entitled The Nile. 
This book deals with geography and 
economics, biography and irrigation, fauna 
and industry, psychology and politics, all 
subjects that are biological, historical and 
timely at the same time. In this instance 
no aphorism can distract from the prob- 
lem, nor can any well-formulated report 
replace true insight. At first I glanced over 
this book eagerly; then I studied it care- 
fully, for I have been in the midst of colo- 
nial problems and am familiar with the 




Nile from its source to its mouth. I 
know the literature on the subject and 
have listened to 'Old Africans' in all 

The book is genuine. It is not a mere 
routine description of a trip from Lake 
Tana and Speke Gulf to Wadi Haifa 
written as a hasty contribution to the 
timely subject of Abyssinia. A real man 
has dug deep into the African world with 
all his being, has searched for the 'why' of 
appearances and has sought and found 
inter-relationships. He has let the images 
of Africa affect his soul like that of a 
youth who travels for the first time. 
Strangely enough his impressions are 
fresher, his language more genuine, his 
learning less obstrusive here than in his 
first book on Africa. The Nile is perhaps 
his best book, Africa his greatest love. 

While in other books on Africa experts 
often turn into poets, in this book the poet 
Ludwig changes into an expert who hardly 
mentions himself. That does not mean at 
all that Ludwig's book is dry. On the 
contrary, it is a glittering picture-book. 
Short chapters, like that about the pyg- 
mies; the elephants; Samuel Baker; 
Gordon; the mad Hitler-like Mahdi, who 
in the twenty years of his reign reduced 
8 million Sudanese to 2 millions; the 
Assuan dam these are little master- 
pieces of the epic. An unjust Ludwig 
myth must be destroyed. He edited the 
book hurriedly, as is proved by the punc- 
tuation, but its conception and writing 
were done with profound care. It is the 
result of several long journeys and of 
serious research in a specialized library. 
Herodotus was a much faster reporter. 
He took only ten weeks to collect the 
material for his everlasting work on 

Ludwig's reason for concluding the 
work hastily was its burning timeliness. 
The campaign in Abyssinia, the threaten- 
ing uprising in Egypt, England's sudden 
and passionate fidelity to the League of 
Nations, the peril of world war all this is 
embodied in the facts about the Nile and 

the Suez Canal. The nucleus of the book 
is a report on Abyssinia and its latest 
history. That was the main reason why it 
had to appear quickly. And Ludwig will as 
hurriedly have to publish the second 
volume, with its burning issues, for the 
world needs it. 

[The Nile, by Emil Ludwig^ is to be pub- 
lished in the United States by the Viking 
Press of New Tork.] 

Colette Speaks 

Ce que Claudine n'a pas dit. By 
Colette. Paris: Ferenczi. 1936. 

(E. Noulet in the Nouvelle Revue Frangaise, Paris) 

pOR those who decry her faults, Colette 
has perpetrated another one in publish- 
ing What Claudine Has Not Said. Here, 
indeed, profiting by the fact that she is 
writing her own biography, 'she treads on 
graves,' to use the phrase of those who 
have become indignant over the fact that 
Gauthier-Villars does not show up as a 
sort of saint in the book. Is it, then, for- 
bidden to speak the truth about the dead? 
Is it necessary to reduce their memories to 
insipidity ? And what if the dead had been 
ill-omened in their lives? What is this 
superstition, but another sign of our child- 
ishness, which has neither kindness nor 
respect for its source, which obliges us to 
extol at the time when he who will benefit 
by this praise, whom our severity did not 
spare when he was still conscious of it, is 
no longer able to hear it? It is the opposite 
attitude that is the only logical and human 
one. It is the living people, still vulnerable, 
who demand gentleness, indulgence, and 
goodness; as for the dead, let them be 
severely judged for what they have left un- 

As far as the dead Willy is concerned, is 
it not obvious that no dismal funeral ora- 
tion would have awakened such an in- 
tense interest and curiosity in him as has 
the striking portrait his authoress-wife 
has deliberately drawn? And I do not 
know whether Willy himself would not 



prefer his personality as seen by Colette 
to the most flattering photographs. 

Moreover, in telling us what she owes 
respectively to her first husband, to her 
circle and to herself, Colette gives us once 
and for all the key to her personality, the 
sources and history of her books, thus pre- 
venting false rehashing and misrepresenta- 
tion in the future. For if it is agreed that 
literary history is more preoccupied with 
authors than with values, and that it is 
nourished more by indiscretions than by 
analyses, I prefer the arrogant indiscretion 
of the living to the most daring hypotheses 
of pedantic biographers. 

But the interest of the book is greater 
than that. It presents us with the most 
authentic and animated document on the 
beginning of our century that we have yet 
had. Colette has had spontaneous insight 
into the world of the theatre, of art, of 

letters, of the salon, and the music hall; in 
describing them she plays a role that no 
one else could have assumed: that of a 
contemporary chronicler. With her, it is 
not a question of historical or aesthetic re- 
construction, but of an amusing and inci- 
sive picture of everyday humdrum events. 
Of course you will miss important aspects 
of the period, social trends, influences, 
philosophies, the grouping of intellectual 
spirits, systems, and prophecies. The rea- 
son for this is that Colette sees the history 
of the times as the history of individual 
lives a hidden flow which leaves them 
exposed to touch and cognition. And al- 
though having become in her story of her 
apprenticeship the chronicler of the 1900's, 
she still remains, with all her limitations 
and merits, the poet of our animality. 
[Colette s books are published in the United 
States by Farrar & Rineharty New Tork.\ 


How Britain Is Governed. By Ramsay 
Muir. Boston and New Tork: Houghton 
Mifflin Company, /pjj'. xii and JJ5 pages. 

The Governments of the British Empire. 
By Arthur Berriedale Keith. New Tork: "The 
Macmillan Company. igjS- xxvii and 646 
pages. $6.00. 

p\ESPITE their manifest differences in 
*~-^ scope and scholarship, the two works 
under review might be said to constitute an 
unwitting swan-song, while the attitudes of 
their authors perhaps help to explain how the 
need for so mournful a dirge has arisen. On the 
jacket of Ramsay Muir's book the publishers 
proclaim that it is a new edition of a work now 
standard, ' partially rewritten in the light of the 
events of the last two years.' The contents, 
however, show singularly little awareness of 
the events which have occurred in the world 
since the writing of the preface to the third 
edition in October, 1932. The point is impor- 
tant because the author not only describes and 
criticizes the machinery of government, but 
puts forward a series of proposals for the re- 
form thereof which he believes will make pos- 
sible the salvation of Britain within the frame- 
work of democracy. Now, while one may agree 
that good government is impossible without 
efficient machinery, the production thereof 
surely involves a consideration of social pur- 
poses and problems, of the struggles of classes 
and groups, and of the technological conditions 
in relation to which it has to operate. 

All this Muir, not heeding the tumult and 
social misery of these latter years, completely 
ignores. His outlook is narrowly political and 
administrative. He ends with a plea for a long- 
term viewpoint and a union of men of good 
will who, agreeing on basic issues, can over- 
come temporary friction and exacerbated 
party strife. Yet his own program of reform 
scarcely offers a basis for cooperation directed 
towards intelligible ends conceived in the light 
of existing realities. Mr. Muir's churning in a 
vacuum, which Lloyd George apparently finds 
'penetrating, courageous, and illuminating,' 
is at least valuable as an explanation of the 
decline of the Liberal Party whose tenets he 

Very different is the second volume under 
consideration. Professor Keith is probably the 
greatest living authority on the constitutional 
law and government of the Empire, and no 
serious student of that subject can safely dis- 
pense with this magistral survey of the sub- 
ject. The book is admirably organized, con- 
tains a mass of detailed information, analyzes 
carefully the manifold legal problems involved, 
and provides careful statements of the growth 
and present position both of the constitutional 
structure of the Empire as a whole and of the 
governmental arrangements of its component 
parts. With its scholarship there can be no 
quarrel, and one can have nothing but praise 
for Professor Keith's moderation and good 
sense in presenting the problems of law over 
which differences of opinion have arisen. Nor 
can one deny that the author is singularly 
successful in making clear the social and racial 
situations behind certain of those issues, and 
that his critical comments on policy are fre- 
quently shrewd. 

It is only in his conclusions, where he gives 
us his personal judgment on the current situa- 
tion, that the author lays himself open to seri- 
ous major criticism. Here the limitations of the 
legal mind, not modified adequately by the 
study of Sanscrit, of which Keith is professor, 
reveal themselves. The author deplores the 
growth of an attitude of lack of respect for law, 
which he sees illustrated by various acts of 
passive or active resistance to government in 
almost all the Dominions, as well as in Great 
Britain itself. Thus he views the General 
Strike of 1926 as *a definite attempt to destroy 
government by consent,' surely an extreme 
view while he equally deplores resistance to 
wartime conscription in Canada and Gandhi's 
policy of non-cooperation in India. He com- 
pliments ' the good sense of Governments and 
people' which has successfully overcome such 
attacks, but deplores 'the failure to realize 
. . . the necessity that reforms should be 
effected by legal means.' 

No doubt orderly legal reform is the most de- 
sirable method of social change. It is just be- 
cause such reform does not take place, because 
existing legal arrangements do not offer ful- 
filment to vital needs of important groups, 
that resistance to government occurs. One 




might, indeed, suggest that the fundamental 
basis of agreement, which in the last century 
made possible that rule of law for which Pro- 
fessor Keith has so great a reverence, has for- 
ever disappeared in an irreconcilable conflict 
of economic interests. In any case it is futile to 
demand obedience and reverence for law when 
such behavior means intense suffering for its 

Professor Keith combines with his legalism 
a real love for the Empire whose institutions 
he has studied so long and earnestly. Its po- 
tential dissolution and the decrease of rever- 
ence for the mother-country are to him 
unmitigated tragedy. He seems to feel that free- 
dom was granted with the understanding that 
closer cooperation would follow, and that the 
Dominions have cruelly ignored their pledge. 
Yet it is possible to argue that Great Britain 
has been, at least since 1926, a humble sup- 
pliant: the Dominions had to be granted their 
freedom, and England was driven to accept 
whatever sops they might choose to throw her. 
In terms of economic realities, she had no 
leverage, while the common interests of the 
whole Empire were trifling in comparison with 
the particular problems and ambitions of Do- 
minions now marked by the more significant 
stigmata of Nation-States. In an uneasy world 
the destruction of any surviving unit greater 
than the individual nation is no doubt to be 
regretted. Nevertheless there is much to be 
said for a frank legal and political recognition 
of National Interest, as against a superficial 
and unsubstantial appearance of unity that 
would rapidly dissolve in time of crisis. 

Not less revealing is Professor Keith's con- 
viction of the blessings of British imperialism 
in the colonies and India. Keith feels that, 
should India attain its demand for complete 
independence, it could not long preserve that 
status. Hence continued British rule is to be 
desired. All this is singularly unconvincing, 
even granted that British imperialism has 
been no harsher than that of other great pow- 
ers. The beneficence of trusteeship by any one 
colonial power is highly dubious; while, what- 
ever the possible temporary anarchy of India, 
should British forces be removed, it seems un- 
likely that a new conqueror could successfully 
establish himself there. 

Grateful as we may be to Professor Keith 
for providing us with organized material on 
constitutional law and practice in the Em- 
pire, we must look to scholars in other fields 

and with different approaches if we desire keys 
to the problems he has adumbrated. 

^Thomas I. Cook 

Unemployment: An International Prob- 
lem. A Report by a Study Group of Members 
oj the Royal Institute of International A^ airs. 
Oxford: Oxford University Press. 1935. 
496 pages. $10.00. 

"IIJE are so close to the depression in our 
' '^ own country, and the controversy over 
the remedial measures taken to alleviate it is 
so hot, that we tend to lose the world picture 
of the same phenomenon. Or, remembering it, 
and not having time to dig up all the facts 
about other countries, we are easy prey to 
this or that statement, often untrue, about 
how England or Sweden or some other nation 
solved its diflnculty. This report by a study 
group of the Royal Institute of International 
Affairs will help to set us straight. 

But while it is first-rate on its descriptive 
data, it sometimes falls down on interpreta- 
tion. Take, for example, its treatment of the 
U. S. S. R. Of the four hundred seventy-eight 
pages in the book, less than fifty are concerned 
with the ' international problem ' as it relates to 
that country. If this is justified on the ground 
that there is no unemployment on one-sixth 
of the earth's surface, then surely the reasons 
why this international problem is no problem 
there are important. But the authors admit 
that this fundamental aspect is not touched 
upon: *. . . a discussion of unemployment 
might be held to involve a reconsideration 
of the foundations of society, including the 
basic condition of production, of the distribu- 
tion of wealth and of the means of exchange. 
These large questions must be left to general 
works on economics. This book has had a 
much more modest aim: the discussion of the 
extent of unemployment, some of the condi- 
tions under which the dislocation of labor 
in recent years has taken place and the prac- 
tical measures by which the governments and 
the parties immediately concerned are attempt- 
ing to grapple with the problem.* 

It is not the province of a reviewer to con- 
demn a book which sets out to do one thing on 
the ground that it has not done another. But 
suppose the tie-up is so close that it is im- 
possible to do the one adequately without a 
sound treatment of the other? What then? 
What if we are told that in the United 




States 'the breakdown of the system is . . . 
largely a breakdown of confidence, the restora- 
tion of which is still in the balance'? If the 
large question of the cause of the breakdown 
of the system 'must be left to general works 
on economics,' why in the meantime must we 
be fed this type of inaccurate, superficial gen- 
eralization ? 

The style of the book is disappointing, too. 
Though it says well what is universally known, 
in its effort to be truly scientific it is too often 
over-cautious. Thus, in a footnote on page 23, 
we learn that *A report on the "Criticism 
and Improvement of Diets" issued by an 
Advisory Committee of the Ministry of Health 
appeared to differ from the British Medical 
Association report.' The two reports did not 
'appear to differ.' They differed very much. 
Then why not say so? This would be carping 
criticism if the fault occurred only once or 
twice, but it does not it is indicative of the 
treatment throughout. 

Nevertheless the book is full of useful in- 
formation compiled from authoritative sources. 
Where it is concerned with statistical facts 
covering the subjects within its field of in- 
quiry, it is first-rate. But we had a right to 
expect more from a volume issued under 
such auspices and costing so much. 

Leo Huberman 

Dictatorship in the Modern World. Edited 
by Guy Stanton Ford. Minneapolis: Univer- 
sity of Minnesota Press. 1935. 179 pages. 


npHIS little book has been highly praised by 
* Professor Charles A. Beard as a contribu- 
tion to our understanding of the theory and 
practice of dictatorship. It is made up of seven 
articles by seven prominent American author- 
ities. Professor Max Lerner discusses 'The Pat- 
tern of Dictatorships with particular reference 
to its Italian and German forms; European 
Dictatorships is the subject of a brief historical 
analysis by Ralph H. Lutz, Director of the 
Hoover War Library of Stanford University. 
Then comes an unusually revealing account of 
Dictatorships in Spanish America by J. Fred 
Rippy, of Duke University. The Mussolini 
Regime is a caustic expose of Fascism by Henry 
R. Spencer, who has written extensively on 
Italy; the Nazi variant comes in for severe 
handling by Professor Harold C. Deutsch, in 
his Origin of Dictatorship in Germany; while 

the proletarian dictatorship of the Soviet 
Union is made the subject of a comparative 
analysis by Professor Hans Kohn in an essay 
on Communist and Fascist Dictatorship. After 
these six rather disturbing indications of cur- 
rent political trends, we are asked to consider 
The Prospects for Democracy , as they appear to 
Denis W. Brogan, a young English student 
who is now engaged on studies of Abraham 
Lincoln and the French bourgeois radical, 
Proudhon. Most of the authors adopt a polit- 
ical and social approach to their various 

The Great Crisis and its Political Con- 
sequences: Economics and Politics, 1928- 
1934. By E. Varga. New York: International 
Publishers. igjS- ^75 pages. $1.50. 

'T^O the rapidly growing accumulation of 
^ books, monographs, reports and documents 
dealing with one or another aspect of the 
present world crisis may now be added the 
official contribution of the Third (Communist) 
International. E. Varga, as Director of the 
Institute of World Economy and Politics in 
Moscow, has, in this compact and highly 
provocative volume, assembled a large amount 
of material (drawn chiefly from acceptable 
'bourgeois' sources) illustrating the decline of 
capitalist economy since 1928, from the point 
of view that 'a clear understanding of the 
peculiarities of the great economic crisis and 
of the special nature of the present depression 
is possible only on the basis of Marx's theory 
of crises and cycles.' It will be seen that im- 
partiality is not one of the virtues of this book. 

The Iron Garden. By Simon Blumenfeld. 
New York: Doubleday, Doran ^ Company. 
1936.3 10 pages. $2.00. 

/^UR native crop of novels by, about and for 
^^^ the worker (although the New Masses 
insists that the worker can't possibly afford to 
read books published at |2.oo) makes it par- 
ticularly interesting to taste of the fruit of the 
British tree in this kind. 

In Love On The Dole and The Time Is Ripe 
we found out a good deal of what it means to 
live on the ragged edge in a great industrial 
city in Lancashire. In The Iron Garden 
published in England as Jew Boy Mr. Simon 
Blumenfeld does equivalent honors for a slice 
of London's East End, and does them in a 
highly entertaining and informative way. 

[1 86] 


Through the sweatshop, the Workers' Circle, 
the dance hall, the street market, a swift 
succession of vivid scenes and episodes, we 
follow the somewhat dismal fortunes of Alec 
and his friends. We realize, with them, the 
corroding effects of uncertain and poorly paid 
employment, and we sympathize with their 
pitiful and unattainable hopes of earning as 
much as four pounds a week for two to live 
upon. But the tale is briskly and skilfully 
written; it cannot succeed in depressing us 
while it speaks so clearly of a dogged and spir- 
ited refusal to be logical and cry, 'All is lost! 
We have nothing left to hope for!' 

If the conversation is sometimes a little 
wooden, if the class struggle expresses itself too 
often in cliches pasted on to the tale with a 
clumsy brush, we recall the imperfections of 
the American novel of this type as it was a few 
years ago and the artistic strides it has taken 
since then. The Iron Garden is something more 
than a good beginning. 

^Henry Bennett 

Doctor Morath. By Max Ren( Hesse. 
Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company. /pj6. 
414 pages. $2.^0. 

AITHEN Hesse's Dr. Morath was first 
' '^ published in Germany, it was well 
received; but it was the publication of the 
second volume, not here included, which 
evoked the almost unanimous opinion that 
here was one of the finest German novels of 
recent years, and gave rise to comparisons with 
Lawrence, Proust and Conrad. As a result 
many turned back to read the first volume of 
the book. Perhaps the fact that this was in 
1934, when the process of crushing intellectual 
freedom was going on and any 'liberal' book 
was threatened by the black list, made the 
songs of praise stronger than they would have 
been in pre-Nazi times. Even so, the novel is 
well worth reading, though this statement is 
true only of the book as a whole. 

This reviewer is therefore disappointed to 
find that the English edition so far presents 
only the first part, which is rather fragmentary. 
It tells the story of young Dr. Morath, an 
idealistic German physician who is thrust into 
the abyss of a thoroughly corrupt and disin- 
tegrated South American high society, where 
he tries to make a place for himself. The book 

concludes with his marriage to Haidee, the 
fascinating halfcast, personification of black 
magic and all evil, with whom he is deeply 
infatuated. The colorful tropical atmosphere, 
the intrigues in the German colony, the hospital 
panorama (the author is a physician himselO, 
all these make a brilliant setting for a story 
which is at times highly dramatic. It is, how- 
ever, in the forthcoming volume that the 
narrative thoroughly unfolds and Morath, 
who in this first part recedes behind the milieu, 
finally emerges as a significant character. 

Ruth Norden 

Land Without Shade. By Hans Helfritz. 
Translated from the German by Kenneth 
Kirkness. New Tork: McBride, Andrews and 
Company. Jgj6. 286 pages. Eighty-three 
photographs by the author. $3.50. 

'npHIS is an admirable book, relating two, 
really three, excursions m Southern Arabia. 
On the first the author, accompanied by a 
friend, went up from Sheshr on the Indian 
Ocean to the little known 'skyscraper' cities 
in the Hadramaut Valley. The journey was 
arduous and, in spite of letters of recommenda- 
tion from native Arabians, by no means free 
from danger. On the second the author went 
up alone from Sheshr, secured a Bedouin 
guide, and, joining a caravan, crossed the 
Ruba al Kahli desert into virtually forbidden 
districts of Yemen. 

There are few descriptions and, with the 
exception of a thoughtful study of the Imam 
of Yemen, there is little analysis of character. 
Yet simple as it is, wholly without exhibition- 
ism, avoiding judgments, and quite unofficious 
in sympathy, the narrative is deeply impres- 
sive. Heat, thirst, disappointment, insecurity, 
mentioned without complaint, seem to preserve 
for the reader the mystery of the land. He is 
simply drawn into the adventure, one he will 
not forget. At the end he will find himself hop- 
ing that Herr Helfritz will soon write again 
and at length on much he has merely hinted at 
in this book, such as the relationship between 
the pure architecture and the music of South- 
ern Arabia, and the similarity of this culture 
with that of the Berbers in the Moroccan At- 
las. The photographs are beautiful; the trans- 
lation is excellent. 

Leland Hall 



Once again we devote this depart- 
ment to some of the organizations which 
are carrying on active work for the cause 
of peace. Of these, one of the best known 
to magazine readers undoubtedly is World 
Peace ways (103 Park Avenue, New York, 
N. Y,). It is World Peaceways which is 
responsible for the striking color advertise- 
ments about war which Americans have 
been seeing in their magazines since the 
fall of 1933. For World Peaceways was 
founded by a group of men and women 
who were convinced that the most effec- 
tive way to mobilize American opinion in 
the cause of peace was to employ the meth- 
ods of American advertising. In almost 
all of its many activities the organization 
has laid stress on the importance of obtain- 
ing the close and active cooperation of 
leading commercial and industrial con- 
cerns, publishers, manufacturers, and dis- 
tributors. In its own words, the program 
of World Peaceways consists of 'a cam- 
paign to sell the idea of peace to the pub- 
lic' Recently it has sponsored a series of 
Thursday evening programs under the 
title of *To Arms for Peace.' In these, 
as in its advertisements, it employs the 
currently accepted methods of big busi- 
ness. Whether its work will have a perma- 
nent influence on the course of history 
only the future can tell; but there can be 
no doubt that the striking and effective 
advertisements of World Peaceways reach 
a larger number of persons than any other 
peace organization in the country. 

THE National Council for Prevention of 
War (532 Seventeenth Street, N. W., 
Washington, D. C.) was founded fourteen 
years ago as a fact-finding, peace-news- 
disseminating clearing house for seven- 
teen national organizations. It now serves 
over thirty affiliated organizations and 
multitudes of individuals throughout the 
United States. It is the largest unendowed 

peace organization in the country, and 
the second largest in the world. Its goal 
is to prevent war to keep America out 
of war, to keep war out of the world. Its 
three-point platform is: Progressive World 
Organization, Worldwide Reduction of 
Armaments by International Agreement, 
Worldwide Education for Peace. It co- 
operates with all distinctively peace 
groups, local, state and national, but does 
not find cooperation possible with Com- 
munists and other groups that advocate 
change by force, nor with those who sup- 
port peace by preparedness. During 1935 
the NCPW distributed 1,316,688 pieces 
of literature of all sorts. Its staff members 
delivered 2,187 speeches in thirty-nine 
states, and the District of Columbia. 
Anti-war facts and material go constantly 
to all of the forty-eight states and U. S. 
territories, as well as to twenty-four for- 
eign countries. 

THE Fellowship of Reconciliation (2929 
Broadway, New York, N. Y.), founded in 
England shortly after the outbreak of the 
World War, is a movement of Christian 
protest against war and of faith for a bet- 
ter way than violence for the solution of 
all conflict. Though not binding them- 
selves to any exact form of words, its 
members 'refuse to participate in any 
war or to sanction military preparations. 
They work to abolish war and to work 
toward a good will between nations and 
classes, and they strive to build a social 
order which will allow no individual or 
group to be exploited for the pleasure or 
profit of another, and which will assure to 
all the means for realizing the best possi- 
bilities of life.' In the United States the 
Fellowship maintains four offices, holds 
regional and national conferences, and 
publishes a monthly journal called Fellow- 
ships as well as occasional pamphlets and 
other literature. 





Left-wing publicist, tells how the change 
has affected Moscow, [p. 142] 

who was a Radical before the War, a 
Liberal after it, and a Conservative just 
before Hitler came to power. For many 
years he worked on the Frankfurter Zei- 
tungy and today he represents that paper 
in Paris. His nostalgic description of Ber- 
lin, with its undertone of resignation, is 
typical of the state of mind of intelligent 
Germans who have tried to come to 
terms with the present regime, [p. 146] 

THE STORY which we translate under 
the title of The Good Horse is by Antoon 
Coolen, a promising young writer from 
North Brabant, in Holland. Coolen has 
published a number of books in Flemish, 
and some in German. He has frequently 
been compared to Knut Hamsun, Jean 
Giono, and Olav Duun. The Good Horse 
introduces him to the English-speaking 
public for the first time. [p. 150] 

JUST when the young Spanish Republic 
seemed about to go down in ignominious 
failure, it was rescued by the victory of 
the Left in the recent elections. Now it has 
another four years in which to prove it- 
self. In the Daily Herald article which we 
reproduce, Mr. Harold Laski discusses the 
men and the issues which are likely to 
dominate the political scene during that 
period, [p. 159] 

MEANWHILE Spaniards across the sea 
are living under a benevolent dictatorship. 
Mr. C. Hillekamps, a correspondent of the 
Journal de Geneve^ sums up the situation in 
the Argentine, [p. 162] 


this month Miss Odette Pannetier un- 
leashes the malice of her pen against Mr. 
Albert Sarraut, Mr. Laval's successor in 
the Premiership of France, [p. 133]. The 
same department presents a biography of 
Mr. Milan Hodza, the Premier of Czecho- 
slovakia [p. 136I, and a piece on Darius 
Milhaud, the modern French composer, 
[p. 140] 


!fNCE, MA^^# 


. for May, 1936 


Aux Urnes, Citoyens ! 

I. Who Pays the Piper Francis Delaisi 197 

II. I Decide to be a Deputy Charles Odet 204 

Old Truepenny and the Times 

I. The Proletarian Reader William Nuttall 209 

II. On Writing Letters to the Times Logan Pearsall Smith 214 

The Menacing Twins in Asia 

I. The Yellow Terror Edmond Demaitre 218 

II. The Coming War in the East 222 

An Epistle to the Discontented Kleo Pleyer 237 

Miss Manning's Fight (A Story) Norah Hoult 241 

Britain's Betting Business 250 


The World Over 189 

Persons and Personages 

Chancellor Schuschnigg of Austria Verax ti!;^ 

Charles Maurras and the Action Fran^aise D. W. Brogan 231 

Mikhail Nikolaievich Tukhachevski Max Werner 234 

As Others See Us , 255 

Books Abroad 259 

Our Own Bookshelf 270 

America and the League 275 

With the Organizations 281 

Thk Living Age. Published monthly. Publication oflSce, 10 Ferry Street, Concord, N. H. Editorial and General offices, 253 Broad- 
way, New York City. 50c a copy. $6.00 a year. Canada, $6.50. Foreign, $7.00. Entered as second-class matter at the Post Office at 
Concord. N. H., under the Act of Congress, March 3, 1879. Copyright, 1936, by The Living Age Corporation, New York. New York, 

The Living Age was established by E. Littell, in Boston, Massachusetts, May, 1844. It was first known as Littell's Living Age, suc- 
ceeding LiUell's Museum of Foreign Literature, which had been previously published in Philadelphia for more than twenty years. In a 
g republication announcement of Littell's Living Age, in 1 844, Mr. Littell said : ' The steamship has brought Europe, Asia, and Africa 
ito our neighborhood; and will greatly multiply our connections, as Merchants, Travelers, and Politicians, with all parts of the world: 
so that much more than ever, it now becortus every intelligent American to be informed of the condition and changes of foreign countries.' 

Subscribers are requested to send notices of changes of address three weeks before they are to take effect. Failure to send such notices 
will result in the incorrect forwarding of the next copy and delay in its receipt. Old and new addresses muat both be given. 


iHIS ISSUE of The Living Age, 
which is scheduled to make its appear- 
ance on the very day on which France 
goes to the polls to elect a new Parlia- 
ment, has as its leading group two 
articles on the working of French de- 
mocracy today. Though they come 
respectively from a Radical and a con- 
servative source, these two articles both 
take a cynical view of the present sit- 
uation. The first, by Francis Delaisi 
(whose analysis of the Bank of France 
we published last September), tells how 
France's 'Two Hundred,' its 'economic 
oligarchy,' manage to rule both through 
and in spite of the democratic machin- 
ery set up in 1870. France, says Mr. 
Delaisi, is a nation with two govern- 
ments, a political government responsi- 
ble to the people, and an economic gov- 
ernment responsible to no one but 
itself, [p. 197] 

THE other article, or sketch, is by 
Charles Odet, and comes from the con- 
servative weekly Candide. It describes 
the adventures of an imaginary hero 
who decides to run for Parliament. 
Though they are disguised as humor, 
its darts strike their mark, and the total 
effect is at least as damaging to French 
parliamentary democracy as is Mr. 
Delaisi's more sober study, [p. 204] 

THERE follow two English essays on 
literary subjects of the widest possible 
divergence. Mr. William Nuttall, writ- 
ing of literature with the conscious 
prejudices which a working-class and 
Socialist childhood have ingrained on a 
sensitive mind, asks whether all the 
great English writers of the past were 
not themselves upperclass-conscious in 
effect, [p. 209] 

AND Mr. Logan Pearsall Smith, an 
American expatriate who was educated 

at Haverford College, Harvard, and 
Oxford, and who has long been known 
for his wit, his social satire, and his 
championship of a polished literary 
style, writes on the word 'sentimental.* 
[p. 214] 

WITH each passing month, the rela- 
tions between Japan and the Soviet 
Union become more menacing, and the 
threat of war in the Far East more real. 
1'be Yellow terror describes some of the 
secret Fascist societies which are 
ceaselessly at work in Japan trying to 
drive the moderates from power and to 
set up a government which will unleash 
the dogs of Asiatic war. [p. 218] 

AND when and if this war comes, 
what will it be like? Who will attack, 
and where? Where will the major battles 
occur? With which side will the ad- 
vantage lie? These are the questions 
which the Harbin correspondent of the 
China Weekly Review put to an anony- 
mous military expert, eliciting the an- 
swers which go to make up The Coming 
War in the East. [p. 222] 

IT HAS COME to be pretty generally 
accepted since Hitler sent the Reich- 
wehr into the Rhineland that he de- 
cided to do so in order to silence with a 
grandiose gesture the growing opposi- 
tion to his regime. But very little spe- 
cific information about that opposition 
has been forthcoming. We therefore 
translate from Blut und Boden, a 
German magazine now suppressed, an 
article by a Nazi in which a number of 
very serious charges are laid against the 
National Socialist Government. This 
article was but one indication among 
many of the way the wind was blowing 
in the days before March 7. [p. 237] 
{Continued on page 282) 


Founded by E. Littell 
In 1844 

May, iQj6 Volume 350^ Number 4436 

The World Over 

What appeared to be vacillation on the part of the British 
dominated the European crisis during the weeks that followed Hitler's 
remilitarization of the Rhineland. Because British public opinion is 
split from top to bottom, the policy of the British Cabinet and the Brit- 
ish Foreign Office was generally interpreted as an accurate reflection of 
that widespread indecision. Actually, however, British policy has de- 
liberately and consistently followed a pro-German course, and there is 
far more powerful support for a continuance of this line than there was 
for a pro-German line before the last war. Beginning at the very top, 
the new King does not inherit his grandfather's savage anti-German bias, 
nor yet his father's partiality for France, the result of "wartime experience. 

Georges Boris, editor of the Paris Radical weekly, Lumiere, has listed 
eight reasons for England's refusal to support France in the Rhineland 
crisis; i. ignorance; 2. anti-French sentiment; 3. pro-German sentiment; 
4. heavy financial interest in Germany; 5. isolationism; 6. pacifism; 7. 
consciousness of Britain's military weakness; 8. belief that the Third 
Reich is about to collapse anyway. 

Most of these reasons can be dismissed as difficult of analysis or 
measurement. But there is nothing mysterious or unreal about the 
Anglo-German Fellowship, which is composed of important financiers 
and industrialists who believe that Hitler has an 'unanswerable case.* 


Here are some of their more distinguished members, who attended a 
dinner on December 9, 1935, to launch a loan for Hitler in London: 

Right Honorable Lord Mount Temple Chairman of the anti-Socialist Union, 
and son-in-law of Sir Ernest Cassel. He is backed by certain leaders of British 
monopolist and finance capital, among them being Arthur Guinness (Guin- 
ness, Mahon and Company, bankers), and E. W. D. Tennant (International 
Diatomite Company Limited, Palestine Potash Limited, three other direc- 
torships, and Honorary Secretary of the Fellowship). 

Frank Cyril Tiarks J_. Henry Schroder's, the Anglo-German bankers, the Bank 
of England and the Anglo-Persian Oil Company. 

Andrew Agnew Shell-Mex and B.P., Limited, Anglo-Persian Oil Company and 
seventy-two other companies mostly foreign oil. 

Lord Barnby Lloyd's Bank, Dawnay Day and Company, private bankers, two 
sugar beet companies, and leader of the recent F.B.I, delegation to Man- 

P. J. Calvocoressi Ralli Brothers Limited. 

F. D'Arcy Cooper Unilever Limited, Lever Brothers Limited, MacFisheries 
Limited, and the Niger Company Limited. 

Sir Robert Kindersley Lazard Brothers Limited, private bankers, and the Bank 
of England. 

Sir Harry McGowan Imperial Chemical Industries Limited, International 
Nickel Company of Canada, the Midland Bank, the British Overseas Bank. 

Lord Charles Montagu Stockbroker, director of Anglo-French Banking Cor- 
poration Limited. 

Sir Josiah Stamp President of the London Midland and Scottish Railway and 
the Abbey Road Building Society, director of the Bank of England. 

IN VIEW of this impressive array it is not difficult to account for the 
almost unanimous support that the British press has given Hitler. From 
the Laborite Daily Herald to Lady Houston's Saturday Review^ which 
usually calls Stanley Baldwin a Communist, the overwhelming majority 
of newspapers and magazines urged sympathy for Hitler. J. L. Garvin, 
whose Observer has championed Mussolini for the past six months, came 
out almost as strongly for Hitler, and the Conservative Sunday Times 
said: 'Hitler's offers, if they are sound, offer the best chance perhaps 
the only chance for establishing peace at any rate in Western Europe 
for a generation, the best hope of delivering the people from their fear of 
the terror that flies by night, and a whole host of other practical and 
collateral advantages.' 

According to the Week, a multigraphed news-letter whose pro- 
Soviet sympathies sometimes lead it into wishful thinking, the British 
Foreign Office, working through the proprietors of the various London 
papers, censored the alarmist stories that were written on every hand 
when the news of the occupation of the Rhineland was first released. In 
consequence, while Paris and every other diplomatic center interpreted 
Hitler's move as the most serious crisis since 19 14, the London papers did 

/pjd THE WORLD OVER [191] 

not express as much nervousness as they showed last October when the 
British Navy concentrated in the Mediterranean. Only the Communist 
organs, which reach only a handful of the total population, called for 
action against Germany; every other paper either praised Hitler's initia- 
tive or expressed mortal terror lest he unleash the dogs of war at once. 

ONE OUTCOME of the British Government's rearmament program 
must be a drive toward greater economic self-sufficiency all along the 
line. Francis Williams, financial editor of the Laborite Daily Herald^ 
points out that Germany's rearmament started the country on the road 
to autarky and war and draws this parallel for Great Britain: 

Our economic system, like that of Germany, will tend increasingly to have that 
one objective of military preparedness, to become more and more the economy 
of a beleaguered citadel. 

Peace and true prosperity can only be secured by the greater willingness of 
nations to trade with one another. But war preparations on such a scale must 
drive us inevitably in the other direction economically toward a greater self- 
sufficiency for fear that the development of international trade will mean de- 
pendence upon potential enemies. 

When once one accepts, as this Government appears to have done, the fatalis- 
tic belief that war is inevitable and begins to plan logically from that premise, 
we embark inevitably upon a policy which increases economic conflict interna- 
tionally, reduces world trade, and forces nations more and more into a suspicious 
isolation. And all these bring steadily nearer the war that is feared. 

No sooner had this analogy appeared in print than an editorial in the 
Statist on 'The Chemical Industry and Defense' confirmed it to the 

From the manufacturing side of the defense program, it is therefore quite 
understandable that there will be an increased direct demand for chemicals, es- 
pecially as the recent White Paper anticipates the building up of reserve supplies 
of ammunition and similar stores as distinct from the manufacture of true arma- 
ments and mechanical war equipment. But inasmuch as many of the chemical 
works in this country are still operating below capacity, much of the increased 
demand for chemicals could be handled without difficulty. In other words, the 
industry may enjoy a period of pleasant prosperity without undue exertion, 
though some slight production pressure may be experienced in those sections 
which provide chemicals for the manufacture of explosives and anti-gas material. 
A very large increase in the production of chemicals would, however, only be 
necessary if war was imminent or broke out, and it is in this direction that we 
must look for a greater direct bearing of the new defense policy upon the chem- 
ical industry. 

The membership of Sir Harry McGowan, chairman of the board of 
Imperial Chemical Industries, in the Anglo-German Fellowship thus 
assumes a famiUar significance, since it is Germany's preparation for war 
that gave England an excuse for following a similar policy. 


WHILE THE TORY DIE-HARDS of Great Britain urge their Gov- 
ernment to support Hitler, the militant nationalists of France attack 
Premier Sarraut for having finally concluded the Franco-Soviet treaty. 
On January 28, while this issue was still being debated, the nationalist 
weekly Candide prophesied that * the ratification of the Franco-Russian 
pact will lead automatically to the remilitarization of the Rhineland.' 
And now Pierre Gaxotte apostrophizes the entire Popular Front of 
Communists, Socialists, and Radicals in the columns of Je Suis Partout: 

For five months you tried to starve Italy and defeat its armies in Ethiopia. 
You called Mussolini a tyrant, torturer, butcher, assassin of Matteotti. And now 
you are supplicating him to come to our defense. Don't you remember that you 
had no use for him five months ago? Didn't you know that in weakening Italy 
you were weakening the resistance to Germany? No? You didn't? Excuse me. I 
understand. You were counting on Mr. Tukhachevski's parachutists. 

The opponents of the Popular Front labor two points. First they 
maintain that the Franco-Soviet pact will lead to a German attack on 
France. In the words of Mr. Gaxotte *it led Hitler back to an hypothesis 
that he himself caressed [sic] : to capture Russian soil he would first have 
to annihilate France, and to get to Moscow he would first have to take 

The second complaint against the Popular Front is that it will plunge 
France into civil war. Pierre Dominique, writing in U Europe Nouvelle, 
argues that a mechanical transfer of the Spanish technique of the Popu- 
lar Front to France can lead only to disaster, and he prophesies the deser- 
tion of many Radicals if the French Popular Front establishes a Leftist 
Government after the May elections. More than a third of the Radicals 
supported Laval to the bitter end, and most of their leaders, as well as 
many of the peasants and shopkeepers who make up the rank and file, 
will hesitate to follow Socialists and Communists toward revolution. 

ALTHOUGH MR. DOMINIQUE once classed himself as a liberal, his 
anti-Soviet bias, which gives rise to these alarmist prophecies, puts him 
in a more conservative position today than that of Pertinax, veteran 
contributor to the Clerical Echo de Paris. To Pertinax Germany will 
always be the enemy, and he is only too eager to support Stalin if in that 
way he can lay Hitler low. In arriving at this conclusion, however, he 
insists that Stalin has turned conservative with the passing years; he 
traces this transformation back to 1925, when the Soviet Union and 
Turkey pledged each other not to take any diplomatic initiative apart 
from one another. This marked the beginning of Russia's reversion to 
home politics and the abandonment of a purely revolutionary foreign 
policy, and it bore fruit in October, 1934, when Kemal proposed to con- 
centrate troops in Thrace just after the murder of King Alexander of 

1^36 THE WORLD OVER [193] 

Yugoslavia. This gesture informed the Little Entente nations that they 
could count on the Turkish-Russian coalition to stand by in case of 
trouble, and as a result, Pertinax writes; 

If the Little Entente tomorrow had to decide between allegiance to France 
and allegiance to Russia, the latter would surely rank foremost in its mind. The 
practical result is that either France must reach an understanding with Russia or 
give up all her political authority and influence in central and eastern Europe. 

Pertinax also reports a corresponding decline of revolutionary activ- 
ity in France on the part of the Comintern : 

If the highest military and police authorities are to be believed, the Moscow 
propaganda in France has subsided, if not disappeared, since 1932. 1 am told that 
in 1934 150 cases of incitement to disobedience were recorded in the French 
army, and that in 1935 that figure had shrunk to less than 10. 

The whole question, however, boils down to whether Russia or 
Germany represents the greater immediate threat to France, and 
Pertinax offers this answer: 

I personally believe, and French diplomats as a body believe, that the German 
peril comes first. Moreover, the Russian threat to social order does not arise from 
Moscow's alleged transfer of funds and the sending out of propagandists, but 
from the example set by a revolutionary regime which at last has succeeded in 
solving some of its problems, in creating a heavy industry and a well-disciplined 

That threat would be felt all the same and probably to a greater degree if 
hostility instead of a spirit of cooperation on the international plane were shown 
to Moscow. And let us observe that Moscow never objects to any repressive 
measure enforced against Communists. 'Deal with them as you like,' is the cur- 
rent phrase. Mustapha Kemal Pasha has fiercely enforced it. 

I asked a deputy of the Right the other day what he would do when called 
upon to vote. His answer summarizes the reaction of the average man: 'I shall 
support the treaty if I see it in jeopardy; otherwise I shall manage to abstain so 
as to spare the feelings of my constituents.' The only conceivable alternative 
would be to give Adolf Hitler a free hand on the Danube and in the east. Mr. 
Laval had it under his serious consideration, but he could not find a single man 
of responsibility to recommend it. A formidable Nemesis would be too likely to 
issue from the bargain. 

FRESH FROM A TOUR of the Saar and the Rhineland on the eve of 
the German elections, a special correspondent of the London Daily 
Telegraph reported considerable excitement throughout the area. Here 
is what he heard two Nazis, one in uniform, say to each other on a rail- 
way excursion to hear Hitler speak at Karlsruhe: 

'The British,' one of the party shouted, 'are playing the French game. But 
they have played cat-and-mouse with us long enough. We have guns now, and 
we are strong. If Mr. Eden tries to tell us what to do, he will get his nose pulled.' 

'The French,' another shouted, 'want us to be unarmed. We are under their 


guns, but they do not want us to have any. We don't want war, but if Mr. Eden 
and Mr. Flandin try to interfere in our affairs, we will show them . . . We have 
an Adolf Hitler now.' 

The Reichswehr, however, does not share this enthusiasm. It was 
not informed of the move into the Rhineland until after the Storm 
Troops and S. S. Guards had been armed, and the first thing the regular 
troops did when they entered Saarbriicken was to disarm the party 
troops of the Nazis. Furthermore, both the Reichswehr leaders and Dr. 
Schacht opposed the occupation, since they feared that a united front of 
League powers would starve Germany into submission. And their fears 
had sound foundations. A boycott of German goods by the four other 
Locarno signatories (England, France, Belgium, Italy) would have re- 
duced Germany's purchasing power abroad 27 per cent. Even if Italy 
had refused to participate, the assistance of the Soviet Union, the Little 
Entente, and the Scandinavian nations would have cut in two Germany's 
purchasing power abroad, and the participation of the entire League 
would have cut it 70 or 80 per cent. Since Germany has no gold reserve, 
it can pay for its imports only by its exports, and it depends on foreign 
countries for such essentials as copper, tin, lead, petroleum, fats, manga- 
nese and cotton. But Hitler knew his politics as well as Schacht and the 
Reichswehr knew their economics and mihtary strategy. Great Britain's 
refusal to support France saved the Nazi regime. 

RUMORS that Germany and Japan have come to some kind of 
understanding find confirmation in the growing importance of the Chi- 
nese market to Germany. During 1935 German exports to China ex- 
ceeded British exports for the first time in history, accounting for 11.09 
per cent of the total as compared with England's share of 10.48 per cent. 
During the same year the share of the United States fell from 26.16 per 
cent in 1934 to 18.93 P^^ cent, while Japan's rose from 12.68 per cent to 
13.95 per cent. In other words, Germany and Japan are gaining Chinese 
markets at the expense of Great Britain and the United States. Whether 
or not the Japanese come to a definite agreement with Germany they 
have no doubt that England and America will act together for senti- 
mental reasons if for no other. The Osaka Asahi speculates as follows on 
Anglo-American relations in the light of the recent naval conference: 

It is quite easy to believe that Britain and the United States concluded a 
secret understanding prior to the convocation of the Washington naval confer- 
ence. In a recent speech, President Roosevelt castigated countries following 
policies of aggression by armed force. London reports spoke of the likelihood 
that he had in mind Japan, Italy and Germany. When there is conflict among 
Japan, Britain, and the United States, Britain and the United States are sure to 
join forces. Blood is thicker than water. We shall not be surprised to see Britain 
and the United States cooperating in a throughgoing manner against Japan 

/pj<5 THE WORLD OVER [195] 

when there comes a non-treaty state in consequence of the break-up of the 
London naval conference. 

WHILE MEMBERS of the Japanese Intelligence Service virtually rule 
Manchukuo and occasionally fall into the hands of the Soviet authorities 
when they extend their activities to Outer Mongolia and the Soviet 
Maritime Provinces, Russian spies are also active on Manchurian soil. 
At the end of 1935 the Japanese raided and closed the offices oi Novosti 
Vostok^ a subsidized Soviet daily published in Harbin, and arrested its 
editor. His confession revealed that a Russian priest named Philimonov 
had been acting as a Soviet spy and had even succeeded in reaching 
Ataman A. G. Semionov, former commander of the anti-Communist 
White Russian forces. Philimonov's report to the Soviet consul in Har- 
bin, with whom he worked, contained this important revelation: 

The sympathies of White Russians are wholly on the Soviet side. Nowadays, 
it is extremely easy to find friends of the U. S. S. R. In case of an armed conflict 
between Japan and the U. S. S. R. all sympathies will doubtless be on the Soviet 
side. It is safe to say that, in case of war and if there are White Russian organiza- 
tions, they will not be reliable when used against the Soviet Union. Undoubtedly 
the Japanese do realize it; nevertheless they support the Military Union, recently 
organized as a branch of the Bureau for Administration of White Russian Af- 
fairs, the aims and purposes of which are too apparent. 

The Harbin correspondent of the China Weekly Review of Shanghai 
also reported this rumor: 

It is alleged that Soviet spies and stool-pigeons are sitting tight In all Bureaus 
for Administration of White Russian Affairs. One of these alleged spies, I. P. 
KaznofF, was on the staflF of the Harbin Bureau and used to report to the Soviet 
Consulate all activities of that body, including its financial affairs. He used to 
deliver all his reports through a certain Lisienkoff, who upon the arrest of Kaznoff 
got away and now is said to be in China. 

The same correspondent also reports that the Soviet Trade Mission to 
Manchukuo has been carrying on economic espionage. 

March draw further attention to the importance that British imperial- 
ism attaches to northeastern Africa. The Commander-in-Chief of the 
Mediterranean fleet, the general officer commanding the largest British 
overseas force outside India, and the recent head of Great Britain's 
air defenses represented the interests of the Empire. The Egyptian army, 
on the other hand, exists only to maintain internal order, and, accord- 
ing to no less an authority than the Cairo correspondent of the London 

Since 191 8 British policy, as every senior British official in Egypt will admit, 
has discouraged modernization of the army. Fear that the troops might become 


politically-minded and 'go nationalist' during the disturbances that followed the 
close of the War prompted this attitude. The mutinies in the Sudan in 1924, which 
were fomented by Egyptian officers and inspired by extremist politicians in Egypt, 
confirmed it. The Egyptian forces were withdrawn from the Sudan under Brit- 
ish compulsion. Since then they have provided guards of honor and backed the 
police in emergencies. 

Today permanent British garrisons occupy Alexandria and Cairo, 
although in 1930 they were prepared to withdraw all troops to the Canal 
Zone or other strategic districts as soon as quarters could be provided. 
Remembering the refusal of the National Government to put through 
the draft treaty that the last Labor Government drew up in that year, 
the Egyptians now view their British masters suspiciously. Young stu- 
dents find few jobs in the British-controlled bureaucracy, and over 
30,000 of them in Cairo alone have joined a new organization, which, 
according to the Times's Cairo correspondent, is not one of the old- 
fashioned nationalist parties but 'owes its strength to even higher 
patronage' Italy, one presumes, since it has *a sub-Fascist program.' 
Whether this organization can rally the Egyptians into a real united 
front against Great Britain is, of course, another and much more 
doubtful story. 

WHILE THE WORLD PRESS devotes column after column to Egypt's 
obvious importance in the Ethiopian dispute, little news from Arabia 
appears. Yet at the same time that English and Egyptian delegates 
were conferrmg. King Ibn Saud visited his neighbor, the Emir of Ku- 
weit, accompanied by a heavily armed camel caravan of seven hundred 
men. Whereby hangs a tale. The Standard Oil Company controls cer- 
tain oil fields in Kuweit, whose Emir has lately begun to claim addi- 
tional territory at the expense of Ibn Saud. Under an old Anglo-Turkish 
treaty the British claim the right to represent their ally, Ibn Saud, in 
this dispute, but he insists on speaking for himself. 

And he has three aces up his sleeve. He knows that the British want 
the right to fly over Arabia and build airports there. He also has the 
opportunity to play England oflF against Italy, as Mussolini has sought 
his aid. Finally Ibn Saud's recent conquest of the port of Aqabah on the 
Red Sea puts him in a position to offer to any interested Great Power 
the concession to build a canal to the Mediterranean in competition with 
the Suez Canal. He may not have to play any of these cards, but at the 
moment Ibn Saud is a triple-threat man and should be able to turn the 
crisis in the Near East to his advantage. 

Aux Urnes^ 

A liberal economist shows how the rich 
'Two Hundred' guide the destinies of 
France, and a conservative journalist 
writes a lively skit on French politics. 

I. Who Pays the Piper 
By Francis Delaisi 

Translated from Vu^ Paris Topical Weekly 

jTRANCE is a political democracy- 
governed by an economic oligarchy. 
On the political plane ten million 
equal citizens elect their representa- 
tives, and these representatives select 
the Ministers. If the members of 
Parliament are not satisfied with the 
Government, they overthrow it. If the 
citizens are not satisfied with the mem- 
bers of Parliament, they can choose 
new ones every four years. This is 
what is called 'popular sovereignty,* 
and so far no one has found a better 
method of expressing it. 

In the economic sphere things are a 
little less simple. French economy is 
managed by five or six million busi- 
ness men, of whom by far the larger 
number are the owners of small con- 
cerns with one or two employees, 
artisans, small merchants and manu- 
facturers, all bearing the risks of their 
concern themselves, and very jealous 

of their independence. In addition to 
the income from their businesses, al- 
most all have some capital invested in 
securities, as have also the majority 
of their employees and workers. 

There is no country in the world 
where capital is more widely distrib- 
uted than in France. It is estimated 
that the total value of her liquid as- 
sets is 425 billion francs. Of this 310 
billions are invested in rentes and other 
obligations of the State administered 
by public servants, and 58 billions are 
deposited in 18 million savings ac- 
counts. The rest, about 140 billions, 
(stocks and bonds) represents the 
country's economic equipment: rail- 
ways; banks; tramways; steamship 
companies; water, gas, and electric 
companies; metallurgical and chemi- 
cal factories; coal mines; iron mines; 
and so forth. 

Of this capital approximately one 




third belongs to the rich; the other two 
thirds are distributed among more 
than 44 million small holders, who 
constitute what is called the middle 
classes. It is they who, along with the 
1 8 million savings bank depositors, 
are the real owners of the immense 
public and private industrial equip- 
ment which has been built up in our 
country over the last century. 

But although they own this prop- 
erty legally, they do not administer it 
themselves. The management is en- 
trusted to boards of directors. In prin- 
ciple, these boards are elected exactly 
like political bodies. But the bond- 
holders do not have the right to vote; 
only the stockholders may attend the 
annual meetings. In practice, the 
small holders never go to them. They 
generally delegate their powers in 
blank to their banker, who sends them 
on to the board of directors, which 
entrusts them to its officers. These can 
hardly fail to approve the reports and 
reelect their patrons. 

Thus the boards of directors elect 
themselves, and in this way two hun- 
dred families, who own the capital of a 
number of large concerns (insurance 
companies and banks), monopolize 
the management of all the great busi- 
nesses which run the production, 
transportation and credit of the coun- 
try. These people do not render an 
account of their management to any- 
one (except to the examining magis- 
trate when things turn out badly 
and everybody knows how discreet 
the financial section of the Bar can 

Since it is sufficient to own ten or 
twenty shares to have the right to 
manage a company with a capital of 
500 millions and more, and controlling 
liabilities of 5 or 10 billions, it is not 

on the dividends from their securities 
that the Two Hundred live, but much 
more often on the commissions and 
bonuses received for transactions which 
they carry out on behalf of the com- 
panies they administer. In this way 
they are able to make a great deal of 
money, even from concerns which are 
running deficits (as is the case, for ex- 
ample, with the railroads). As for the 
ordinary share-holders, if they are not 
satisfied they have no other recourse 
than to sell their securities at a loss 
and buy others. After having been 
robbed in one company, they have the 
choice of going to another to be 
stripped to the skin. But the manage- 
ment stays put. 

Thus the middle class Frenchman, 
who is in theory as much the master 
of his property as he is of his ideas, 
finds himself in practice subject to 
two distinct governments: i. he in- 
trusts his general interests to a politi- 
cal government whose representatives 
he elects and knows, and over which 
he exercises a certain amount of con- 
trol at election times; 2. he intrusts 
his private interests, or at least his 
savings, to an economic government 
which is anonymous and not respon- 
sible to anyone. 

Now these two powers, the public 
and the private, cannot completely 
ignore one another. The economic 
oligarchy cannot be wholly indifferent 
to democratic representatives and 
their selection by universal suffrage. 
For in the first place the economic 
oligarchy has to be on its guard against 
fiscal measures which would tend to 
reduce its profits: in times of crisis the 
political democracy has an annoying 
tendency to want to 'soak the rich.' 
Furthermore, the economic oligarchy 
must defend against encroachment by 




the Administration those private mo- 
nopolies which some people would like 
to transform into state monopolies. 

For a long time the economic 
oligarchy has applied itself chiefly to 
this negative role of defense. But 
largely since the beginning of the 
crisis it has been obliged to ask the 
state for numerous favors: for tariffs 
which would relieve it of foreign com- 
petition; for subsidies which would 
permit it to meet the deficits of some 
of its enterprises; for government or- 
ders to counterbalance the general de- 
cline in private business; and, finally, 
for guarantees of the interest pay- 
ments on proposed bond issues. 

All this involves heavy expenses, to 
be levied on consumers or taxpayers 
or small savings. The sums are ob- 
tained easily enough from the legisla- 
tive bodies in the name of 'national 
interest.' But it may turn out that in 
the long run the voter-taxpayer-con- 
sumer-saver, finding the burden too 
heavy, will kick over the traces and 
send less complacent representatives 
to Parliament. For this reason it is 
necessary for the economic oligarchy 
to maneuver universal suffrage in 
order to obtain 'good* elections. Not 
having numbers, it must perforce rely 
on money. 


I should like to sketch here the tac- 
tics and methods used by the economic 
powers to assure their preponderance 
over the political powers. Every four 
years, a few months before the elec- 
tions, there begins in all the banks, 
big industries, insurance companies, 
etc., the great drive for campaign 
funds. Each firm has the right to sub- 
sidize personally any candidate it 
chooses in the constituency where its 

workers live. But the great insurance 
companies, the Comites des Forges, 
etc., also see to it that a central fund 
is raised, and endeavor to have each 
subsidiary contribute in proportion to 
its size. The contributions are charged 
against surplus; they are written 
down as 'general expenses.' 

In the past, the big companies used 
to subsidize only conservative candi- 
dates; but the suspicious public would 
then vote all the more readily for men 
of the Left. It was, therefore, on these 
latter that it became necessary to 
work, and here the task was more deli- 
cate. It is as natural and permissible 
for a Right candidate to solicit the 
support of the great industries whose 
interests he intends to defend as it is 
difficult for his adversaries to accept 
the financial support of the capitalist 
powers which it is their program to 
combat. Here it is possible to work 
only through an intermediary. 

It was at this point that Mr. Billiet 
had an inspiration. He set up his cele- 
brated Union of Economic Interests, 
in which he thoroughly mixed in with 
the great subsidies of the insurance 
companies and the Comites des Forges, 
etc., the more modest contributions of 
merchants and industrialists of the 
middle classes. His principle was to 
show complete indifference with re- 
gard to political programs. Concerned 
solely with economic interests, he was 
ready to subsidize all candidates, 
whether from the Right or from the 
Left, whether Conservative or Radi- 
cal or even Socialist, provided only 
that the applicant undertook engage- 
ments on certain precise points re- 
quired by the donors of the funds. It 
was his task to present these points as 
democratic measures. Here are his 
principles: opposition to the State 




monopolies (for are they not contrary 
to sound economic policies?); tariffs 
(are they not needed to keep up the 
workers' wages?); subsidies for the 
big companies in the red (in order to 
avoid unemployment); large orders 
for war materials (national defense 
first!). Once he had accepted these 
points, there was nothing to prevent a 
candidate from proclaiming in his 
election posters and his meetings the 
boldest and vaguest arguments of 
revolutionary Socialism. 

Business men are realists by nature. 
They pay less attention to principles 
than to immediate advantages, and 
they know from experience tested 
many times over that a revolutionary 
who has become a Minister is not 
necessarily a revolutionary Minister. 

This method of indifference to pro- 
grams has given the very best results 
for over thirty years. Thus when, in 
1928, Mr. Ernest Mercier undertook 
to raise funds to finance candidates 
who were friendly to the ideas of the 
Redressement Frangais, the bankers, 
without daring to refuse, displayed 
genuine annoyance. They were not 
prepared to associate themselves with 
a party. Recently, many of them have 
shown great coolness toward the Fas- 
cist program of Colonel de La Rocque. 

The reaction of the masses to the 
events of the sixth of February, 
1935 [when there was rioting in the 
streets of Paris], and the formation of 
the Front Populaire on the fourteenth 
of July, made it clear to everybody 
that it would be better to corrupt the 
democracy than to make a direct at- 
tack upon it. So Mr. Ernest Mercier 
has just officially dissolved his organi- 
zation, and the Two Hundred have 
returned to the old and tested prin- 
ciple of indifference to party programs. 

Nevertheless the republican voter, 
who does not see any of this cookery, 
is surprised when he realizes that the 
leaders of the Left and the leaders of 
the Right govern, in effect, alike, and 
even that they very often take part in 
the same Ministry. In traditional demo- 
cratic circles the young men avenged 
their deception by pressing more and 
more to the Left, going from Radical- 
ism to Socialism and from Socialism 
to Communism. If these impatient 
forces were united in a single group, 
they could carry everything before 
them. That is why it is necessary to 
divide them by multiplying the par- 

Every party possesses two essential 
organs: i. an executive or administra- 
tive committee, elected by a congress 
composed exclusively of 'militants,' 
and which meets once or twice a year; 
1. a newspaper which is addressed 
directly to the individual voter and 
which is in daily contact with him. 
In the nature of things, there are more 
newspapers than executive commit- 
tees. The economic oligarchy, then, 
has contrived to multiply the so- 
called 'journals of opinion;* in this, 
the rivalry of leaders and the impa- 
tient ambitions of their followers have 
played into its hands. 

A number of small sheets spring up; 
unable to subsist on the returns from 
their sales, they are obliged to have 
recourse either to 'anonymous dona- 
tions' or to the publicity managers of 
the insurance companies, the Com- 
ites des Forges, or the 'economic 
interests.' Naturally the parties' seri- 
ous militants are not willing to do this 
job themselves. They therefore gen- 
erally turn to a 'specialist' who has 
had a good deal of experience in busi- 
ness circles. He accepts with alacrity 




the articles by leaders of the group 
and also the essays by militants of the 
second rank who are eager to bring 
themselves to the attention of the 
public or to carry on polemics with 
their rivals. Doubtless these men are 
sometimes surprised to observe the ap- 
pearance, in the columns of that same 
newspaper, of a campaign in behalf 
of such and such capitalist concerns 
or monopolies, in rather marked con- 
tradiction to the principles of their 
party. But it is important to make 
sacrifices to maintain a newspaper 
without which the group could no 
longer be distinguished from other 
similar groups. 

This is the explanation of the role 
and paradoxical influence of these 
'Dubarrys' in the journals of opinion. 
A Minister, even of the Right, never 
refuses them their share of the * secret 
funds;' the publicity agents of the big 
banks do not refuse them generous 

(subsidies (on condition that they give 
only a tiny part of them to the party 
newspaper). And if by chance these 
' over-zealous collectors stray into the 
offices of a Stavisky, so much the 
better. They will produce a scandal 
which will discredit all the parties of 
the Left. 


The increase in the number of 
ij * journals of opinion' leads to a multi- 
plication of the number of parties. 
There are nine hundred deputies in 
the Chamber, that is to say nine hun- 
dred would-be Ministers. But no one 
may join a Cabinet combination un- 
less he can bring with him the assured 
support (for a time) of a certain num- 
ber of colleagues, all of whom will 
eventually be his rivals. The struggle 
within the groups is keen, and it re- 

quires much time and patience and 
efl^ort to become eligible for a port- 

A gifted and ambitious man natu- 
rally tries to form a group with him- 
self at the head. He then submits 
to a bored or curious public a pro- 
gram or plan in support of which he 
has gathered together some friends. 
But it becomes necessary to find him 
some voters. If he has a group, it is 
easy for him to form a newspaper. If 
he has a newspaper, it is easy for him 
to form a group. 

In this way there has come about 
that vast breaking-down of the parties 
into Radicals, Radical-Socialists, Re- 
publican-Socialists, Independent So- 
cialists, Socialists, Populists, Com- 
munists nay, even Stalinists and 
Trotskiites! The number of parties in 
the Conservative camp is equally 

In answer to Lord Robert Cecil, who 
had asked him: 'To what party do 
you belong. Monsieur le Depute? ' Mr. 
Joseph Barthelemy once said: 'I am 
one of those Republicans of the Left 
who sit in the Center and vote with 
the Right.' The nuances which dis- 
tinguish these parties have become so 
delicate that the public no longer rec- 
ognizes them, and designates them 
solely by the names of their leaders. 
In fact, they are no longer anything 
but Ministers' retinues. 

With such a breaking-down of the 
parties it is almost impossible to form 
a homogeneous Ministry. All the 
retinues of the same political color, 
being by definition rivals, can asso- 
ciate only with the groups of con- 
trary convictions. For this reason 
there can only be 'concentration' 
cabinets, and how could such fragile 
'combinations' as these resist the 




pressure of High Finance? Suppose 
that, perchance, a Minister, backed 
up by the majority of the country, 
decides to take some fiscal measures 
which disturb the economic oligarchy. 
To overthrow him it will suffice to 
detach from his majority a small 
group of a score or so of members. 

If, on the other hand, he follows a 
policy dictated by the trusts and the 
banks, but disapproved by the coun- 
try, he will proceed as follows: first he 
will persuade a coalition of 'retinues* 
of divers leanings (say A, B, C and D) 
to put him in the minority. Loyally, 
the Premier will then submit his 
resignation, and the President will ac- 
cept it, at the same time entrusting 
him with the formation of a new 
Cabinet by calling upon the leaders of 
relay teams A^ and B^ He will not 
have much trouble finding C^ and D^, 
either. And he will pursue the same 
policy until the unpopular measure 
has been passed, when a new Pre- 
mier, backed by groups A^, B^, C2, D^, 
will quietly replace him. In this way 
there is organized that kind of Min- 
isterial quadrille in which the dancers 
change partners without changing the 
tune. The instability of the Govern- 
ment, which is so often used as a 
criticism of Parliamentary procedure, 
is only an illusion. Mr. Clemenceau 
was once asked why he had over- 
thrown so many Ministries. 'At bot- 
tom,* he said, 'it was always the same 

Furthermore, if some popular leader, 
supported by a united majority and 
backed by public opinion, should de- 
sire to resist the orders of the eco- 
nomic powers, the latter have a very 
simple means of checkmating him. 
Every time that a Ministry has been 
overthrown, the President of the Re- 

public, always respectful of the Con- 
stitution, calls the leader of the new 
majority and invites him to form a 
new Cabinet. The Premier-elect re- 
plies, according to the formula, that 
he will consult his friends. While the 
journalists see him busy negotiating 
with the groups and sub-groups, he 
discretely calls in the Director of the 
Treasury and asks him: 'How much 
money have you got.''* 

'About a billion francs,' this high 
official customarily replies, when things 
are good. 'Of course,* he adds, 'we 
have to redeem two billion francs' 
worth of treasury bonds at the end of 
the month. But the financial houses 
will undoubtedly consent to make the 
necessary advances.* 

It then becomes necessary to see 
the bankers. These latter generally 
display much good will. 

'Of course,* they say to the new 
Premier, 'your political ideas are not 
ours. But we are too good Frenchmen 
and too good citizens not to bow be- 
fore public opinion. We are therefore 
quite ready to place the public's 
money at the disposal of the Govern- 
ment of the Republic. Only, one good 
turn deserves another. It is under- 
stood. Monsieur le Premier^ that you 
will touch neither the tariffs, which 
are necessary for our industries, nor 
the subsidies granted to the great 
railway and steamship companies, nor 
the orders for war materials, nor the 
private monopoly of the insurance 
companies, nor the other privileges 
which your predecessors have re- 

'And then you have included in 
your program certain fiscal measures 
like coupon books and taxpayers' 
identification cards which have made 
a bad impression in financial circles. 




At this time, when you are asking us 
to appeal to those very circles for fur- 
ther help, it would not be wise to give 
them the impression that you are go- 
ing to play tricks on them.' 

'But Parliament has already voted 
those measures! The coupon books 
are already printed and the identifi- 
cation cards are at Saint-Sulpice all 
ready to be distributed!' 

'Well then, let them remain in their 
boxes at Saint-Sulpice and you will 
have all the billions you need.* 

It sometimes happens that the Pre- 
mier-elect resists. In this case his 
Ministry is invariably overthrown at 
the end of a few days. There are those 
who, in disgust, have wanted to go 
straight back to the President and 
renounce the task of forming the 
Ministry. But then of course all their 
close collaborators cry out. They 
think of the portfolios of Ministers 
and Secretaries of State that they have 
been promised, and of the jobs and 
honors that they have themselves 
promised their constituents. 'You 
can't do that! Besides, don't worry, 
my dear Premier, we will shield you 
from the militants.' And the great 
man submits. And the great 'inde- 
pendent' press hails his advent and 
recognizes in him, as it has in his pred- 
ecessors (and as it eventually will in 
his successors), the essential qualities 
of a ' Government Man. ' 


After thirty years of maneuvers of 
this sort, the economic oligarchy has 
ended by exercising all the functions 
of the Democratic Government. Ac- 
cording to the terms of the Constitu- 
tion, Parliament has three basic func- 
pj tions: i. it makes the laws; 2. it 

adopts the budget; 3. it controls and 
overthrows the Government by exer- 
cising its right of interpolation. 

1. Today it no longer makes the 
laws. For two years all measures have 
been taken by decrees adopted by the 
Cabinet. Parliament's role is confined 
to ratifying them after they have 
been adopted and when their eflfects 
can no longer be avoided. In this way 
the legislative power has abdicated to 
the executive which is precisely the 
negation of republican Government 
(Herriot dixit). 

2. If Parliament still votes the 
budget, it no longer debates it. Last 
December 40 billions in taxes were 
adopted in two weeks. The most revo- 
lutionary fiscal measure which had 
been attempted in the last forty years, 
the reduction of the face- value of gov- 
ernment bond coupons, was taken by 
decree, without debate. The Chamber 
left the preliminary examination to 
the Finance Commission, which is in- 
variably presided over by the austere 
Malvy, who, as he himself told the 
committee which investigated the 
Stavisky case, puts his friendships 
above his party, a practice which has 
earned him general approbation. . . . 

Furthermore, the administration 
spends what it wishes, whatever the 
available credit may be. All it has to 
do is to present during the course of a 
year a blanket request for several 
billion francs, and this is always ap- 
proved without discussion. 

3. As for the right of interpolation, 
it is this to which the deputies clung 
the longest, for it makes it possible to 
overthrow the Government and thus 
open the scramble for portfolios. In 
this they always revel, and they avail 
themselves of it as often as possible. 
But, thanks to the game played by 




the * relay teams, * it has practically no 
effect upon the policies of the suc- 
ceeding Governments. 

Today, under the hundredth Min- 
istry of the Republic, we have to 
record that the Parliamentary regime 
has become nothing more than win- 
dow dressing. 

Whose fault is it? 

There are some who would gladly 
turn the people's anger against the 
deputies. That is unfair. The deputies 
are no better and no worse than the 
vast majority of their constituents, 
and the 'substitutes' who offer, with 
so much sincerity, to change every- 
thing, will not do any better once 
they have been drawn into the works. 
Moreover, there is a shameful hypoc- 
risy about always denouncing the 
* corrupt ' without ever speaking of the 

Parliament's present impotence is 
due to the juxtaposition of two pow- 
ers: a political government which op- 
erates in broad daylight under the 
control of public opinion, and an eco- 
nomic government exercised in the 
dark by an anonymous and irre- 
sponsible oligarchy. Necessarily the 
second endeavors to corrupt the first, 
and its whole game consists in making 
the apparent government bear the 
responsibility for the errors and short- 
comings of the secret government. It 
will be so as long as the middle class 
Frenchman confides the management 
of his general interests to a demo- 
cratic regime from which he can re- 
quire an accounting and does not re- 
quire a similar accounting from the 
banks and the trusts to which he con- 
fides the management of his private 

II. I Decide to be a Deputy 
By Charles Odet 

Translated from Candide, Paris Conservative Weekly 


AM thirty years old and a voter, 
therefore eligible for office; my fath- 
er's past is irreproachable, as is my 
mother's. I am a lawyer, like every- 
body else. In short there is no earthly 
reason why I should not run for Par- 
liament. Every candidacy is started 
by the candidate's pals, who say: 

* Bravo ! Go to it, old boy ! With your 
gift of gab, you are sure to succeed. 
Parliament needs men like you. The 
main thing is: don't hesitate! Go right 
ahead and show them ! ' 

The minute you have decided to 
run, your worries begin. First of all, 
you must find a constituency; then 
you must choose an opinion. I im- 

mediately found myself faced with 
this last problem. A colleague, a real 
expert on the question, as he won in 
the last elections, said to me: 

'Why don't you join a young man's 
party.'* Believe me, the Radicals are 
nothing but old morons* Be a "Neo"; 
that's the party of the future.' 

Another colleague, who is no less 
competent to speak, as he was black- 
balled in the last elections, told me: 

'This is a critical hour. We moder- 
ates must close our ranks. Your duty 
is to join the Left Radicals.' 

Whereupon I realized that if I 
wanted to preserve my peace of mind 
and conscience, it would be advisable 




not to go on until I had held further 
consultations. Accordingly I spread 
the news everywhere that I wanted to 
run for office. Everybody was eager to 
help. The telephone never stopped 

'Alio! Look here, old man, it seems 
that Paul Reynaud is going to have 
difficulties in the second . . .' 

' Do you know what I've just heard? 
And from a reliable source, too. 
Bouisson is not going to run in Mar- 
seilles. The place is there for anybody 
who wants to take it.' 

I made a tour of France by tele- 
phone. Which one of the possible or 
impossible constituencies should I 
choose? The last to come to my atten- 
tion always seemed to me infinitely 
superior to the others. But I always 
seemed to find myself plunged into a 
family quarrel. Inevitably I was ex- 
horted to defeat *a vile skunk whose 
conduct disgusts all decent men,' or 
*an old drunkard completely out of 
his wits.' Which constituency to 
choose? My brain began to resemble 
an immense atlas. 

My little friend Yvonne, who tries 
to keep up her political connections, 
introduced me to an ex-Minister. He 
was a well-preserved man, with clean 
finger nails, a boiled collar, and eye- 
glasses. He was very nice to me. 

'You wish to run for Parliament? 
Bravo! I have just the constituency 
for you: the second district of Calais- 
sur-Lozere. At present the deputy 
there is Lebry-Lameche, an insuffer- 
able brute who voted against me all 
the time I was in office. You must lick 
him. You will register in my party; 
but, of course, without mentioning my 
name to anybody. If Lebry-Lameche 
should ever find out, it would be a ter- 
rible tragedy! But I will help you in 

the district. La Petite Alouette illustrie, 
the most important local paper, will 
stand behind you: I am the principal 
stockholder in it. It is essential for 
you to go there immediately and make 
contacts with the local committees. 
Do not lose any time, but polish up 
on cheeses, livestock, and chestnut 
groves : they will certainly try to trip 
you up at the first meeting . . .' 


I pack my suitcase and cancel all 
my appointments. I consult the big 
Larousse, and learn that *my' departe- 
ment is deficient agriculturally, but 
that its great industry is raising cat- 
tle, and more particularly sheep. I 
remember that I wanted to visit 
Lozere some time ago. I also remember 
that several of my friends have told 
me that the natives of Lozere are the 
most agreeable, sympathetic, pleas- 
ant people imaginable, and that the 
climate is very healthy. I will spend 
all my vacations in my constituency. 
Yvonne will join me. It will be de- 

My train leaves in two hours. I use 
the time to drop in to see another 
Minister, whom I have met three 
times at the Duponts'. His district 
is near mine: perhaps he can help me. 

He certainly can! He shrugs his 
shoulders, he raises his voice and 
gesticulates; his hair bristles in lively 
defiance of the best pomade. 

*Calais-sur-Lozere? That's a good 
one! Who is the idiot who suggested 
Calais-sur-Lozere to you? My poor 
friend, Lebry-Lameche will be re- 
elected like that! and on the first ballot. 
Think of it: he is vice-president of the 
Chamber's Agricultural Commission. 
The sheep, the chestnuts and the cattle 




have no more loyal defender than 
Lebry-Lameche. Why, whoever can 
have suggested the perfectly mad idea 
of running against Lebry-Lameche? 

Ah, it was X ? I might have 

known! He probably also told you 
that he'll see to it that La Petite Alou- 
ette illustree supports your candidacy 
. . . Ah, he did tell you that? Well, 
La Petite Alouette illustree doesn't even 
belong to him any more. He has sold 
all his shares to Gaston Beausoleil. 
I can refer you to Gaston, because he 
is a friend of mine. But you haven't 
got the slightest chance, not the 
slightest. I'll tell you where you should 
run : Clamecy-sur-Moselle. First of all 
it is a city: you won't be bothered by 
any peasants with their sick cows. 
Workers, true Frenchmen, loyal, reli- 
able souls that's what you'll be deal- 
ing with. In short, it's a golden con- 
stituency. The outgoing deputy, Baron 
Puc, is not slated to run again. I know 
this from his mistress, who is a friend 
of my daughter's. But, confound it, 
you must get there as soon as possible. 
By the way, what are your political 
convictions? I think the Left Radical 
will do very well . . .' 

At the bottom of my heart, I knew 
all the time that Lozere was not the 
dipartement for me. I am delighted at 
the thought of being a deputy from 
the East instead. What a noble atti- 
tude I could adopt in case of war! I 
would be brave. I would spill my life's 
blood for France and give my con- 
stituents an example of true bravery. 
The martial strains of the Marseillaise 
resound in my heart and in my head. 


Thus I go to see my future district. 
I take Yvonne with me. She is quite 

delighted to make the little trip; that 
is to say, she is delighted when we 
leave Paris. From Rheims on she is 
less happy because it begins to rain. 
At Clamecy-sur-Moselle the distant 
little shower turns into one of those 
obstinate, surly rains which seem to 
settle down for all eternity between 
Heaven and earth. Yvonne laughs to 
give me courage. So do I, with the 
same intention. It does not matter 
that Yvonne is thinking about her hat 
and I about a cold lurking in wait for 

I have to make a visit to an In- 
fluential Citizen with whom I had 
made an appointment by telephone. 
Yvonne, left to her own resources, 
wanders from pub to pub on the touch- 
ing pretext of sounding out the ground. 
Then she makes a tour of the shops, of 
course always with the same purpose 
in mind. When I meet her two hours 
later, she is exhausted, splattered to 
the eyebrows with mud, snifl^ing 
with a cold, slightly drunk, and loaded 
with rolls, cigarettes, local news- 
papers, spools and tin cans, all of them 
bought in order to 'make people talk.' 
She feels that she is heroic and virtu- 
ous. She says: 

*Do you suppose there are many 
women who would sacrifice their hats 
and shoes for you as I have . . . ? 
But do you know what? This is a 
nasty place. Don't yoU find it nasty?' 

Yvonne and I had never been in 
such complete agreement before. For 
the Influential Citizen had not kept 
from me the difficulties I was bound to 
encounter here. Baron Puc is not ex- 
pected to run, but there is another 
candidate who has been awaiting his 
chance for eight years now. He didn't 
get many votes in 1928. But in 1932 
he had many more. While Baron Puc's 




health may have something to do with 
his retiring, it is certainly also due to 
the fact that he knows that he is going 
to be defeated. And besides I look too 
young. Here they prefer a candidate 
who had been in the War. Obviously 
they cannot reproach me with having 
been born too late to participate in 
more than one e.g. the coming 
war, but, as the Influential Citizen 
says, * try and talk to people once they 
get an idea into their heads.' Except 
for this, the Influential Citizen places 
himself entirely at my disposal in the 
matter of getting up a preliminary 

I answer Yvonne's questions vague- 
ly. She insists that, inasmuch as there is 
bound to be a Minister from the East 
in every Government, there is no rea- 
son, everything considered, why I 
should not be that Minister. If not in 
this session, then in the next. 

There is no sign of a taxi in *my' 
constituency, nor is there a street car. 
And even if there were one, where 
would it take us? We wander around. 
The country here is poor and thread- 
bare. Through the gray rain we see 
quite clearly the red glare of the blast 
furnaces. There are no strollers to be 
seen in the dismal streets. 

Our homeward journey is somewhat 
lugubrious. In the dining-car, the veal 
stew has been scratched from the menu. 
Yvonne does not talk about my Minis- 
terial future any more, and I am sleepy. 
On arriving home, I call up, for polite- 
ness sake, the ex-Minister who wanted 
to see me succeed Lebry-Lameche. 
He is cross and speaks sharply to 

' My dear young friend, why did you 
drop everything? Now it's too late. 
Denis Remiton has gone there. He 
has been endorsed by the party. He 

has even launched his campaign with 
a highly successful meeting. If you had 
only listened to me instead of going off" 
on a spree, God knows where . . . ' 


If I am going to be a candidate for 
Clamecy-sur-Moselle, politeness de- 
mands that I go to see the Senator of 
that departement. Of course, as is to be 
expected, he lives on the Left Bank. I 
ring the bell. A dear sympathetic old 
lady in curlers opens the door. I 
begin : 

*I am here because I wish to be a 
candidate for . . .* 

She lifts her arms to heaven. 

*You too! There are already so 
many. But do come in; you are stand- 
ing in a draught. My husband is not 
here but I'll tell you all you need to 
know. So you wish to run for Parlia- 
ment? Very well. You are not the only 
one. It's quite simple . . .' 

Just then somebody rings the bell 
and I hear her say: 

'You are here about the district? 
Would you mind waiting until I am 
through with this other gentleman?' 

She is charmingly confused. Really 
she is a dear old thing, like something 
out of an American cartoon. She 

*I hope you'll excuse me, but the 
maid is out just now.' 

I smile suavely: 

'Perhaps I can do something for 
you ? Some errands, perhaps ? I would 
be so happy to be of use.' 

That melts her. She probably thinks 
that the youth of today has been 
gravely maligned, and that I am a 
most obliging young man. 

'Really? It will be no trouble? It's 
ever so sweet of you ! Well . . . You 



might go to the fish market; it's right 
at the corner. Tell them to give you a 
sole weighing about a pound or a 
pound and a half. Then if you would 
be kind enough to stop at the green 
grocer's, who is next door to the fish 
market, and get a pound of apples, a 
head of lettuce, and two artichokes 
. . . Just tell them it's for me. But 
are you sure this is no trouble for you?' 
I precipitate myself down the stairs, 
drunk with joy. It is obvious that 
among all the possible candidates who 
want to run in Clamecy-sur-Moselle 
I am bound to make the strongest ap- 
peal to the all-powerful Senator. 

Hurray! the Influential Citizen of 
Clamecy-sur-Moselle has telephoned 
me some news about my progress. 
Baron Puc's redoubtable opponent is 
very ill. The influential voter has told 
his committee about me. What he said 
has made a favorable impression. He 
will tell me more anon when he sees 
me, as he is coming to Paris for his 
cousin's marriage. I am to meet the 
Influential Citizen of Clamecy-sur- 
Moselle at the Restaurant Opal, just, 
opposite the Gare de I'Est. He has 
only an hour to spare for dinner. 

' Will this be too much of a bore for 
you?' I ask Yvonne, hoping against 
hope that she'll say *no.' 'You can 
come, you know.' 

*I can't say that the prospect de- 
lights me particularly. I haven't seen 
you for several days on account of 
your political appointments, and I did 
hope to have you to myself tonight. 
Well, nothing can be done about it. 
Let's go and get it over with.' 

At the restaurant we meet not only 

the I. C. but also his entire family, 
which is a large one: six brats, the eld- 
est of whom is sixteen. The prolific 
helpmeet is there too. A symphony 
orchestra, composed of young ladies 
in pink taflPetas, radiates harmony 
and forces us to shout our confidences. 

The Influential Citizen is going back 
to Clamecy-sur-Moselle that same 

'We'll see you to the train,' I tell 
him. I gather up the valises. Yvonne 
follows. I am particularly nice to the 
children in the hope of winning the 
hearts of their parents. Yvonne talks 
dresses with the spouse. It is impos- 
sible to take leave of the family before 
the train goes. The Influential Citizen 
tells me fish stories. His wife wants 
to make quite sure about the summer 
fashions. Yvonne and I dare not even 
hold hands until the train has dwin- 
dled to a small, ephemeral, red eye at 
the end of the platform. 

'Well, are you satisfied?' asks 
Yvonne. 'And what did the old fool 
have to tell you?' 

'Not much. The redoubtable op- 
ponent seems to be better.' 

By the next mail I receive an an- 
nouncement of the demise of the Sena- 
tor with a taste for artichokes and 
sole; a letter from the Influential Citi- 
zen of Clamecy-sur-Moselle telling me 
of the complete recovery of the Re- 
doubtable Opponent; 'and finally a 
folder extolling the charms of Egypt. 

I take Yvonne by the shoulders as I 
always do at grave, critical moments. 

*I will not run this time. But I am 
starting in right here and now making 
serious and careful preparations for 
the election of 1940!* 

'Sometimes,' says Yvonne, 'your 
jokes simply slay me!* 

Here is an essay by an English work- 
ing man raising the question whether 
all English literature is not 'class con- 
scious;' and one by an American ex- 
patriate on the word 'sentimental.' 

Old Truepenny 
and the Times 

I. The Proletarian Reader 
By William Nuttall 

From the London Mercury ^ London Literary Monthly 

J. HAVE only a few bookshelves, for 
I live in a very small house, but tucked 
away in a corner of one of them are 
three little volumes (a novel) to which 
I return again and again, having found 
from experience that nothing else I 
have read can either quicken my mind 
as they do, or so stimulate my powers 
of rumination. Why should this be so? 
Facts as to why this particular novel 
should not appeal to me are about as 
strong as they very well could be. 
First, it was written by a man of the 
generation of my grandfather; sec- 
ondly he was a nobleman, and the 
characters he deals with live in a 
social sphere far removed from my 

own; thirdly he was a foreigner, and his 
characters are foreigners, thus giving 
them an additional degree of aliena- 
tion to that due to their class; and 
lastly it is a translation from the Rus- 
sian into English. In short, it would be 
difficult to imagine a thicker barrier to 
communication between an author's 
mind and a reader's than exists in this 
particular case. Yet this book speaks 
to me in clearer tones, touches my 
heart more strongly, stirs my memory 
more deeply than does any other I 
have read. There is no book to which 
I feel to stand in closer sympathy than 
to Tolstoy's War and Peace. 

As everybody who has read it knows, 




War and Peace is centered in Napo- 
leon's catastrophic invasion of Russia, 
the burning of Moscow, and the re- 
treat. Against this historic background 
are traced the fortunes of a few chief 
characters and a host of minor ones. I 
should find it very difficult indeed to 
describe the peculiar way in which I 
stand under their spell. But how shall 
I account for that interest in view of 
the facts enumerated above that seem 
so much to tell against it? Or how 
shall I answer the thoroughgoing 
English literary patriot whom I can 
hear protesting: 'But have we no 
English authors, that you should only 
be able to discover your favorite work 
in foreign parts?* 

The broad answer is that I can read 
the book unhampered by my class- 
consciousness, which has always stood 
most troublesomely in the way of my 
enjoyment of English books. As the 
son of a Lancashire cotton-mill hand 
I inevitably acquired from my father 
something of his bitter and cynical 
outlook towards all men and women 
who were not of his own class. And 
since the literature that has come down 
to us and that being written is largely 
a bourgeois, in some cases an aristo- 
cratic product, the pages of social and 
domestic fiction are monopolized by 
characters of the type and station 
against which in real life I had de- 
veloped from listening to my father a 
most unwholesome antipathy. When I 
read, therefore, I find that my mind 
a most refractory entity to control 
has a trick of transferring this an- 
tipathy to the fictitious characters, 
and, by a most unjust circumstance 
from the author's point of view, the 
more clearly the character is drawn, 
the stronger is my impulse to throw 
down the book. And it would need an 

illuminating psychological analysis to 
account for the perverse fact that 
when, on the other hand, I read a book 
translated from a foreign tongue, de- 
picting human beings and their rela- 
tions with one another, my class- 
consciousness is not aroused at all. But 
so it is. By some miraculous grace the 
specter refrains from lifting its dis- 
mal head above the horizon of my 
thoughts, and that is why I am able to 
take the first step indispensable to the 
enjoyment of reading when I begin on 
War and Peace. 

For the advantages of being able to 
read a novel without the intrusion of 
one's class-consciousness are cardinal. 
If it is a great one, the characters be- 
come removed from the accidental 
circumstances of their social setting 
and it is their relation with the uni- 
verse as a whole, with time, and with 
human destiny, that then absorbs the 
reader's interest. He can feel their 
heart-beats and study their individual 
psychology. And the proletarian is 
handicapped if prejudice limits him to 
works either depicting characters, or 
written by men, of his own class only. 
While he knows from experience that 
there are many such men that have a 
knowledge of souls, it is rare to dis- 
cover one who has had any extensive 
ability to put his knowledge on record. 
Personally I do not know of one, unless 
it be John Bunyan; but who would 
dream of measuring Bunyan's scope 
with that of Shakespeare or of Tol- 
stoy? And what cultural progress 
would a proletarian be able to make if 
his class-consciousness were so chronic 
as totally to bar him from enjoying the 
works of the only types of men who in 
the past have had either the leisure or 
the talent to write them? He would 
make none. In my own case I feel that 




my losses in relation to English litera- 
ture have been, and still are, suffi- 
ciently great. They would have been 
irreparable if my class-consciousness 
had driven War and Peace from my 

For with War and Peace I can enjoy 
as with no other work the process of 
'identification* so dear to a reader's 
heart. Reading is identification. We 
only understand what we can identify, 
and when in addition we can identify 
ourselves, we make progress in self- 
knowledge. My class prejudices out of 
the way, I can hardly read a page of 
War and Peace without recognizing 
my whereabouts. To give only a few 
examples that immediately suggest 
themselves: the effect of contem- 
porary politicians and warriors upon 
the acute and sensitive mind of Prince 
Andrew is a particular brand of pes- 
simism and disillusionment that I 
recognize at once as my own. The 
picture of Count Peter Besoukhow's 
struggles for spiritual regeneration, his 
recurring bewilderment in face of the 
implacable realities that history and 
human destiny fling mercilessly across 
his path just when he thinks the turn 
has come, I recognize as my own, too. 
One needn't be a millionaire count to 
realize how strikingly and nakedly 
true a picture of the generous human 
soul in its universal setting Tolstoy 
has there depicted. A religiously- 
minded, unemployed plumber could 
recognize it. Or consider Prince Boris 
Droubetzkoi, whose simple recipe for 
'getting on' is to make the acquaint- 
ance only of the 'best people' and 
drop them as soon as he succeeds in 
making contact with better. His 
tactics should be familiar to every 
little climber in every little town over 
the whole face of the earth. 

The most amusing characters in the 
book are Colonel Adolph de Berg and 
his spouse Vera Rostow. As newly- 
weds they invite all their acquaint- 
ances to a housewarming party. They 
are enraptured because the party 
proves, as they imagine, a great suc- 
cess, since it works itself out just in 
the way they have noticed everybody 
else's parties to do. To Berg's great 
delight, as confirming his own great- 
ness as he wishes it to appear in his 
wife's eyes, his 'boss,' a high official, 
deigns to come, along with other social 
celebrities. And all the guests find 
themselves drawn in to suppress their 
smiles and play up to the pride of the 
newlyweds. Berg tactfully sees to it, 
of course, that nobody disturbs the 
arrangement of his brand-new furni- 
ture or spoils his brand-new carpet. 
These and other innumerable instances 
I could give are what I mean by 
'identification.' Bergs are to be found 
in every social class throughout the 


That I cannot, on the contrary, 
carry out this same mental process of 
identifying with ease the human notes 
in one social class with those of an- 
other when reading English hterature 
may seem incredible to some readers. 
Of classic authors the ones I am most 
familiar with are Shakespeare, Jane 
Austen, Scott, Thackeray, Dickens, 
Emily Bronte, Charles Lamb and 
Cardinal Newman; of moderns I have 
nibbled all over the literary cheese. 
The nearer in time they approach my 
own period, the severer do my mental 
disturbances become. With Shake- 
speare, however, I have made con- 
siderable headway; I no longer stop 
short with my identifications at Call- 




ban and Bottom the weaver, for I can 
get behind the masks of kings and 
queens and thereby recognize some 
very old acquaintances. Doubtless the 
pleasant sounds that come from Shake- 
speare's words in the order he puts 
them help me to keep at bay my 
father's intrusive Marxian ghost. It 
used to butt in terribly when I picked 
up Jane Austen : 

Jane: It is a truth universally 
acknowledged, that 
a single man in pos- 
session of a LARGE 
FORTUNE must be 
in want of a wife 

{Enter Ghost.) 
Hamlet: Whither wilt thou lead 
me? Speak. I'll go no 
Ghost: Mark me. 
Hamlet: I will. 

Ghost: I am thy father's spirit 

Doomed for a certain 

term to fast in fires 

Till the foul crimes done 

in my days of nature 

Are burnt and purged 

Leave them books alone. 
They're folks as don't 

vote Labor. 
I telled thee to wipe 'em 

from thi yed, 
And my commandment 
all alone shall live: 
Bring on the Workers' 

I persisted with Jane out of sheer 
cussedness. After all, her subject was 
not politics but pride, prejudice, per- 
suasion, sense and sensibility. But in 
the main my reading powers are 
crippled when confronted with pic- 

tures of English society past and 
present through the domination of my 
mind by an all-powerful and devastat- 
ing formula: 'What have this tribe of 
middle-class lawyers, parsons, and 
scribes to tell me about my class ? How 
can they possibly know what life 
looks like to us ? * Old Truepenny holds 
the field. My father was a weaver, but 
he was not Bottom; he was illiterate, 
but he was not Cahban. His is the 
ghost of a deep philosopher, who 
lacked only the power of self-expres- 
sion. I revere his memory in spite of 
the heritage of conflict that his power- 
ful spirit leaves within my soul. 

One circumstance there is, however, 
in reading English literature, where 
the problem presented by the intru- 
sion of my class-consciousness does 
not arise, at all events not in quite the 
same way. That is where proletarian 
characters themselves are used, and it 
is no longer necessary to look through 
the mask of another class in order to 
identify the author's intentions. I 
then find myself occupied chiefly with 
the question whether he has succeeded 
in depicting the proletariat as it ac- 
tually sees itself, or only as he sees it, 
or his typical readers. One cannot, of 
course, read everything, but rarely 
have I come across any writer who 
could do the former. The truth is that, 
impressionism apart, it requires very 
powerful faculties of imagination in- 
deed for a man to portray accurately 
and with any degree of fullness char- 
acters that breathe outside his own 
little social tradition. Even so tre- 
mendous a democrat as Dickens, whose 
pages abound in proletarian types, is 
successful to my mind only on two 
occasions, with Charlie Hexam and 
Bradley Headstone, both in Our 
Mutual Friend y and even with them 




he bit off more than he could chew 
and had to resort to melodrama to 
keep himself on the lines. To under- 
stand the acuteness of a sensitive 
proletarian's discernment in this mat- 
ter and appreciate the power that 
resides in his nostrils to scent out a 
bourgeois flavor, one must have had a 
lifetime's experience of seeing one's 
class used by authors and playwrights 
either as stock clowns or the objects 
of a maudlin or villainous patronage. 


The conclusion naturally arrived at 
in face of this deficiency is that no 
true delineation of human nature 
from a proletarian model is to be ex- 
pected until proletarians acquire the 
necessary skill and fervor to take the 
job in hand and do it themselves. 
Much has been said on this subject 
and is being said. The late Allan 
Monkhouse on his solitary literary 
watch-tower in the north was never 
tired of repeating, 'There is a good 
chance now for the working-man 
novelist.' One suspects, indeed, that a 
terrific amount of pen- to say nothing 
of head-scratching and heart-burning 
is already proceeding underground; 
and we see its results come betimes to 
the surface in such isolated works as 
/, James Whitaker^ and Love on the 
Dole. But they never turn out to be 
quite the thing that one is looking for, 
a thing more easily conceived than 
defined, though it is possible to picture 
the kind of man who might produce it. 

Imagine a man who is of proletarian 
origin yet at the same time a gifted 
scholar with broad powers of invention 
and creation. To do that is not dif- 
ficult. There must be thousands of 
them men who have taken ad- 

vantage of their talents and made their 
way into all kinds of leading positions 
in the social structure. Such men are 
easily recognizable, for they have 
common traits: having climbed so- 
cially they are either found to have 
cut the ties that bound them to their 
former connections, or to be wonder- 
ing how they can cut them without 
incurring the curse of God, or to be 
connected with them still in a sur- 
reptitious, embarrassing sort of way, 
which hampers their movements and 
ties their tongues. 

So far imagination is not difficult. 
But to take the next step in imagina- 
tion is enormously difficult. You are 
now to imagine a man of similar 
origins, who, having acquired his 
learning, does not head towards a 
leading position but doubles back 
into the proletariat, remains there, 
and, as it were, deepens within it. 
This is not, mark you, the same thing 
as Zola living the life of a peasant to 
write of the peasants, for its keynote is 
not objectivity but subjectivity. It 
would indicate a mental revolution, 
a complete reversal of normal social 
procedure, in the man who did it, 
signifying his possession of a flair for 
a novel kind of saintly eccentricity 
and a complete indifference to cutting 
against the grain of educational tradi- 
tion. But were such a man to write, 
one would expect the work to bear not 
only an authentic proletarian stamp, 
but the depth and scope also, the 
' intellectual ' interest, that are needed 
to satisfy a reader blessed with a 
curious and active mind. Odd flashes 
come from D. H. Lawrence which 
suggest he was one who might have 
done the trick had he not chosen to 
arrange his martyrdom in other fields. 

Trotski, one of the few authorities 




on this subject, takes in his book 
Literature and Revolution a different 
view from that. He believes that be- 
fore a true proletarian literature can 
spring into life, something historically- 
startling must happen a revolution 
of the proletariat itself. Only then 
can one begin even to talk about a 
proletarian literature. The next step 
is if one can find leisure between con- 
solidating the manufacture of nuts 
and bolts and at the same time avoid 
the snares of the bourgeois ideology, 
which is enshrined within them, to 
learn from authors of the historic past 
their methods and by no means to 
presume that these can by any stretch 
of imagination be dispensed with. So 
even when the historic act of a revolu- 
tion of the proletariat has been ac- 
complished, it seems that bourgeois 
models must still continue to dominate 
the literary scene. 

That is not very exciting from a 
reader's point of view. While not sug- 
gesting that the function of a revolu- 

tion is to supply the people with 
readable books, it seems a dry fate 
from that point of view to have a revo- 
lution and then be where you were. 
And if one can profitably study bour- 
geois models after a revolution, the 
clear inference is that one can also 
study them profitably before. 

This brings me back to War and 
Peace, which Old Truepenny, to my 
enduring delight, lets me read in peace 
and so permits me to meet my true 
friends Count Peter Besoukhow and 
Prince Andrew Bolkonski on the 
ground of our common human emo- 
tions and intellectual doubts. But he 
continues to turn up faithfully at as- 
semblies of the English muse and, 
fixing his mild, suffering gaze upon 
me, troubles me with his reproach, for 
the tumbrils do not yet rattle in the 
streets. To say the truth, I have little 
ear for them. I, too, prefer to pause, to 
hesitate, and to say: 

'Nymph, in thy orisons be all my 
sins remembered.' 

II. On Writing Letters to the Times 
By Logan Pearsall Smith 

From the New Statesman and Nation, London Independent Weekly of the Left 

kJ I/N'T quos curricula: there are 
those, Horace tells us, whose joy is to 
gather Olympic dust upon their racing 
cars; others to be decked with Delian 
bays in the Capitol, or to win the fame 
of boxers, or to be pointed out in the 
street as masters of the lyre. None of 
these are my ambitions; what I like is 
to have my letters printed in the 
'Times. In those grave columns I feel 
that I take my due place among the 
statesmen, the peers and prelates and 
weighty thinkers of my age. 

Among the thousands who beat in 
vain upon that gate to glory, the few 
to whom it opens find themselves con- 
fronted by a staircase of several de- 
grees by a ladder with at least six 
rungs for their aspiring feet to climb. 
Of these the lowliest is fixed in the 
column entitled 'Points from Letters;' 
the next is the epistles printed in full, 
but in small-type, in the same dark 
corner, and after that in large-type let- 
ters there. Then there are the small- 
type, then the large-type, letters on 




the great central editorial page; and 
then dizziest height of all a letter 
with a leading article about it. To this 
height I cannot vaunt that I have as 
yet ascended; but I believe that I can 
boast, without contradiction, of hav- 
ing performed there a stylistic feat of 
which not the greatest statesman or 
most honored prelate no, not even 
that master of the phrase, the Arch- 
bishop of Canterbury himself can 
brag; a feat which Shakespeare ac- 
complished so subtly in his Sonnets, 
and which Proust described as the 
greatest triumph of the art of writing 
the expression, namely, of a gross 
impropriety in such elegance of dic- 
tion that the most elegantly minded 
readers will not see it; or, if they do, 
will not believe their eyes. 

But the writer to the 1'imes must be 
an opportunist. One subject is venti- 
lated in its columns for a week or two, 
and then suddenly, inexorably, the 
window closes; the curtain is rung 
down, and no letter, however elo- 
quently written, will find admittance 
on any terms. This misadventure has 
happened to me on two occasions. 
Once E. F. Benson held me up to 
ridicule; but just when I had posted a 
letter poking fun at him, the subject 
of sustenance for the abdomen had re- 
placed that of nutriment for the mind, 
and a letter entitled What is a Pork 
Sausage? was printed where mine 
should have sparkled. I accused my 
fellow-climber on this staircase, Enid 
Bagnold, of having played me this 
knavish trick; she alleged that she was 
in mid-Atlantic at the time. But what 
are alibis to deep students like myself 
of the literature of crime? We laugh at 
them; for we know that the more per- 
fect the alibi, the more perfect the 
proof of guilt. 

My second misadventure had also a 
gastronomic aspect. The subject un- 
der discussion was Christian Prayer. I 
had written to show that a certain 
prayer for the departed, which has 
sneaked and sniveled its way into the 
Revised Prayer Book of 1928, and is 
now intoned at every Memorial Serv- 
ice, was not, as was supposed, an 
ancient prayer at all, but a modern 
fake. A clergyman in South Kensing- 
ton asserted that, on the contrary, the 
prayer was an ancient one, having, * as 
a matter of fact,' been written, he 
said, by Lancelot Andrewes. The at- 
tribution was a clever one, since all of 
us can say anything we like about this 
famous bishop with no fear of contra- 
diction; can even proclaim him as the 
greatest master of English prose; since 
no one I have ever heard of has been 
able to read more than a page of his 
arid and controversial volumes. I re- 
plied by taunting this parson with his 
admitted inability to give a reference, 
and added that to attribute to this un- 
sentimental bishop so flagrant a piece 
of Victorian sentimentality (which 
Newman really wrote) was about as 
preposterous as to say that Newman 
had borrowed from Herrick the lines: 

Jnd with the morn those angel faces 

Which I have loved long since, and lost 


or to suggest that Tennyson drew his 
Tears, idle tears from sources in the 
Middle Ages, or in Marlowe. But 
again the abdomen had replaced the 
soul in the Times columns, and the 
flavor of ice-cream whether vanilla 
or strawberry ^left no place for prayer. 
All the same, this allegation of 
anachronism is sometimes a ticklish 
business, and one may be staggered by 





finding very modern elements in writ- 
ings of authentic age. Of course, the 
mention of the EngUsh in the Sermon 
on the Mount is outside this discus- 
sion, being, as we all know, an in- 
stance of Divine Foreknowledge; but 
Mussolini would have been wise to 
ponder more profoundly the text, 
'Blessed are the meek: for they shall 
inherit the earth,' in which that men- 
tion indubitably occurs. 

To descend, however, from the 
supernatural, I was once flabber- 
gasted to find addressed to the evening 
star in the eighteenth century the 
romantic lines, 

Speak silence with thy glimmering 

And wash the dusk with silver; 

and walking one evening in Oxford 
with Walter Raleigh, I remarked how 
odd it was to think that these lines 
were written and published in the age 
of Dr. Johnson. 

'They were not,' my companion 
categorically replied. 

* Yes, they were,' I answered. 

'Are you aware, sir,' he asked me, 
* that I am professor of English Litera- 
ture in this university?* 

'I've heard malicious people say 
so,' I admitted. 

'Well, it's the truth,* he asserted, 
'and as such as the occupant of that 
chair I now inform you that those 
lines you quoted belong to the age of 

That I thereupon dragged the Pro- 
fessor to the Union Library, and 
showed him the verses in an eight- 
eenth century book of which he had 
himself edited a new edition, is a 
favorite vainglory of mine, and one by 
whose means I once hoped to win the 
prize at a Chelsea Boasting Party; and 

I might have done so, if it had not 
been snatched from me by a distin- 
guished lady-novelist, who remarked 
that she possessed a certificate of her 
virginity signed by the Pope, which 
she had procured in order to nullify a 
Catholic marriage at the cost of eighty 


Shakespeare is, of course, famous for 
his anachronisms; all commentators 
note the thoughts of his own age which 
he attributes to the characters of 
former ages; but the way he pillaged 
the future, and robbed its unborn 
writers is even more scandalous and 
striking. Lytton Strachey has shown 
how in Othello he stole from Pope the 
sun of his couplets: 

She that could think and ne'er disclose 

her mind. 
See suitors following and not look be- 

She was a wight, if ever such wight 

To suckle fools and chronicle small beer. 

From Keats he bagged the Keat- 
sian invocation of Enobarbus to the 
moon : 

sovereign mistress of true melancholy, 

and even more extraordinary is the 
way he imitates Mallarme and our 
modern nonsense poets inr the Phoenix 
and the Turtle that conscious and 
deliberate construction of a merely 
musical pattern of words: 

Let the priest in surplice white 
'That defunctive music can. 
Be the death-divining swan, 
Lest the requiem lack his right. 

Can Valery or T. S. Eliot beat the 
beautiful meaninglessness of this } 




The Victorian sentimentality I ob- 
jected to in that questionable prayer, 
about the lengthening shades and the 
hushing of the busy world, and the 
time when the fever of life is over is 
not this mood, elegant, autumnal, 
elegiac, to be found in Shakespeare's 
\ No longer mourn for me when I am 
That time of year thou mayst in me be- 

Are not these glaring thefts from 
Gray's Elegy and from all that grave- 
yard poetry of Omar Khayyam, 
Thomas Hardy, and the latest succes 
de larmeSy the Shropshire Lad, for 
which our literature is so justly 
famous ? 

The word 'sentimental,' as I have 
attempted to show elsewhere, was a 
lovely word when it was first issued 
from the English eighteenth century 
mint, a 'perfumed term of the time,' 
which Sterne adopted for the title of 
his Sentimental Journey with no ironic 
meaning. It indicated a refined and 
elevated way of feeling, a sense of the 
briefness, the beauty and the sadness 
of life the Virgilian lachrymae rerum^ 
which we find in that loveliest line of 
Latin poetry: 

Dulces moriens reminiscitur Argos^ 

and which melts the heart of Dante's 
pilgrim when he hears the squilla di 
lontanoj the sound of bells in the dis- 
tance that seem to mourn the dying 

How completely today is this mood 
out of fashion! What a hissing and 
astonishment would fill the squares of 
Bloomsbury should a Hogarth poet 
try to squeeze out those 

Tears from the depth of some divine 

of which Tennyson did after all let 
Bloomsbury be damned, but I will say 
it did after all divinely sing! 

The French have been more happy 
in preserving the amiable meaning of 
this word which they borrowed from 
us, and which we, in our crude English 
fashion, have so degraded and dis- 
graced. Thus Barres could ascribe une 
sentimentalite tresfine to a sympathetic 
character, and the poet Albert Samain 
sing of the nightingale as 

Uoiseau sentimental^ 
L'oiseaUj triste et divin, que les ombres 

We cannot call our English night- 
ingales sentimental birds. I think it's a 
pity. I think I shall write to the Times 
about it. 

We hear a good deal about Fascism and 
War these days, but the phrase evokes 
European rather than Oriental images. 
The two articles of this group link 
up, as cause and effect, the Fascism 
of Japan and the expected Asiatic war. 

The Menacing 
Twins in Asia 

Specters of 
Fascism and War 

I. The Yellow Terror 

By Edmond Demaitre 
Translated from Marianne^ Paris Conservative Weekly 


lLTHOUGH the Japanese have organized very much like the regular 

shown an alarming eagerness to imi- political parties, but they all agree 

tate everything that comes from Eu- on one point: that it is necessary to 

rope, one still does not see any black, abolish the parliamentary system and 

blue, brown or red shirts in Tokyo, set up a dictatorship in order that the 

But in reality there is perhaps no principles of nationalism may be 

other country in the world where there rigorously followed, 

are so many Fascist organizations as According to several estimates, 

in the Empire of the Rising Sun. which do not seem to be exaggerated. 

These organizations differ from the there are approximately one hundred 

secret and ultra-patriotic societies in and thirty Fascist societies in Japan, 

that they carry on their activities in and the total number of their followers 

public and refuse to employ terror as exceeds 2 millions, 

a weapon of political action. They are One of the most important organi- 



zations is the Dai Nippon Kokusui 
Kai, whose chiefs are recruited from 
the chiefs of the Seiyukai party. Its 
program includes three points: first, 
the revival of Samuraiism; second, the 
restoration of all the Emperor's pow- 
ers, together with the worship ac- 
corded to his person, including sacri- 
fice; third, a return to the ancient 
Japanese traditions. Another Fascist 
organization, the Ken Koku Kai, 
likewise demands the dictatorship of 
the Emperor, but differs essentially in 
adding to that a demand that the 
followers of any kind of Socialism be 

Among the most important Fas- 
cist associations is the Kokuhonsa, 
directed by Baron Hiranuma, who is 
looked upon as the future dictator of 
the country. In his supreme council 
one finds General Araki, Admiral 
Osumi, the former Minister of the 
Navy, Admiral Kato, the Navy Chief 
of Staff, and Dr. Wali, the President 
of the Court of Cassation. Unlike 
Hitler or Mussolini, Baron Hiranuma 
never appears in public, makes no 
public addresses, and professes a veri- 
table horror of the crowd. He lives in 
celibacy, quite an extraordinary thing 
in Japan, and his Spartan-like life 
has become a legend in Tokyo. 

The Kokuhonsa is organized after a 
curious hierarchic system. It includes 
three kinds of members: the chiefs, 
the members who pay dues, and the 
non-paying members. The paying 
members number approximately one 
hundred thousand, and are recruited 
mostly from the ranks of university 

The Kochi Sa is distinguished by 
the philosophical character of its doc- 
trine. Like others it advocates the 
abolition of the parliamentary system. 

but at the same time, contradictory 
as this may sound, it demands free- 
dom of thought, equality in political, 
fraternity in economic, and unity in 
moral life. 

The Nippon Sujiha Domei advo- 
cates a sort of Rousseau-like Fascism. 
Its directors among whom we find 
the well-known writer Takamobu 
Murobuse believe that it is parlia- 
mentarism that prevents humanity's 
return to nature. Therefore parliament 
should be abolished and everybody 
should be free to go and live in the 
woods. While waiting for the first 
point of this program to be realized, 
the leaders, accompanied by a few of 
their faithful followers, have founded 
a sort of communal farm, where they 
live and preach their * Rousseaufas- 
cistic' truth. 

Another singular kind of Fascism 
is that preached by the Dai Nippon 
Sesauto, which considers the abolition 
of the metric system indispensable to 
Japan's future, although it is hard to 
see the connection between the metric 
and the parliamentary systems. Nev- 
ertheless the party has several thou- 
sand members. 

Lastly, the Dai Nippon Koku Kai is 
a fascistic association of retired army 
and navy officers. Its leaders are Gen- 
erals Kikuchi and Saito and Admiral 
Ogasawara. Their program is almost 
identical with that of the other mili- 
tary associations in that they advo- 
cate the dissolution of parliament and 
the regimentation of the capitalist 


The military clans and the Fascist 
and Hitlerian organizations are not the 
only nor the most redoubtable oppo- 
nents of the parliamentary regime in 




Japan. There are also great secret 
societies, whose acts of terrorism are 
relentlessly directed against the lead- 
ers of the political parties. 

During my visit to Japan, I had an 
opportunity to be present at the trial 
of Lieutenant Inouye, who for several 
years was the head of the Japanese 
espionage system in China. After 
having come back to Japan, he 
joined a religious sect and has since 
then carried on extensive activities 
among various Pan-Asiatic organiza- 

Impassive on the witness stand, 
the young officer answered calmly 
the questions put to him by the Presi- 
dent of the Tribunal: 

*We wanted,' he declared, *to 
bombard the capital with military 
airplanes, which we proposed to 
"borrow" from the Kasumigaura 

The judges did not seem surprised. 
The President contented himself with 
jotting down a few short notes on a 
sheet of paper and continued to ask 
questions, which Lieutenant Inouye 
always answered with the same calm 
politeness. The interrogation resem- 
bled a conversation between two well- 
bred gentlemen, each one of whom had 
a lively interest in the other's affairs. 

It is true that from time to time the 
President's voice betrayed a sort of 
indignation, and this was particularly 
evident when the young officer de- 
clared that among others he was 
scheduled to kill Prince Saionji, the 
last of the 'Genros.' (This title, which 
conferred certain special privileges 
and was reserved for the most eminent 
persons, being an initiation into a sort 
of assembly of elders, was abolished 
at the end of the last century.) But 
when the accused stated a moment 

later that after two days of delibera- 
tion the conspirators decided to erase 
from the lists of those condemned to 
death the name of so respected an 
elder, the President made a gesture 
which seemed to say, 'Very good, my 
son, very good: that shows that your 
heart is in the right place.' 

I observed the audience. It was 
composed of lawyers, of a few officers, 
politicians and journalists. I was 
struck by the fact that while con- 
demning the conspirators' plans, they 
obviously were sympathetic to them. 
And the thirteen accused men knew it. 
The atmosphere was favorable to 
them, and this increased still more 
the calm assurance that was evident 
in their gestures and words. 

These thirteen officers, who pro- 
posed to kill on the same day Prince 
Saionji, the last of the Genros, the 
Lord Keeper of the Privy Seal Nobu- 
aki Makino, the Grand Chamberlain 
Kantaro Suzuki, the Minister of the 
Imperial Home Baron Iki, and the 
Minister of Foreign Affairs Shidehara, 
all belonged to the same secret so- 
ciety, the Brotherhood of Blood. Its 
members had already (in May, 1932) 
assassinated the President of the 
Council, Inukai, and tried to kill 
Baron Wakatsuki, whom they blamed 
for having signed the London Naval 
Treaty. It was this same society that 
was responsible for this February's 
assassinations. All these attempts 
were not, as a matter of fact, directed 
by the opposition party (the Seiyukai) 
against the party in power (the 
Minseito), but rather against parlia- 
mentarism in general, which the 
Brotherhood of Blood reproaches with 
having sacrificed the navy and army 
budgets to purely political or financial 




It must be noted that neither the 
members nor the leaders of this so- 
ciety do what they do in order to 
satisfy their personal ambitions; after 
having destroyed the men whose pol- 
icy seems fatal to them, they never 
dream of taking their place. A Japa- 
nese familiar with their functions and 
their purposes told me recently: *We 
realize very well that those who are 
good for overthrowing one regime and 
putting another in its place are not 
necessarily capable of assuming the 
task of governing the country.' 


If the members of the Ketzumei 
Domei (the Brotherhood of Blood) 
are recruited mostly from the army, 
those of another important secret 
society, the Koku Ryukai (the Black 
Dragon), are recruited mostly from the 
civilians and the University youths. 
But both of these secret societies use 
the same means and pursue the same 
aims. To seize power by violence; to 
abolish the parliamentary system; 
to muzzle the press; to set up a 
dictatorship; to regiment (or, so to 
speak, 'socialize') the functions of 
commerce and industry; to build a 
fleet as large as that of the United 

|i States or England; to pursue a rigor- 
ous armament policy; and lastly to 

[1 assure Japanese political and eco- 
nomic expansion on the Asiatic con- 
tinent such is their program. 

Neither the Brotherhood of Blood 
nor the Black Dragon are to be com- 
pared to the Irish secret societies or 
the Spanish juntas. The Japanese 
secret societies, as a matter of fact, 
have a horror of publicity. They 
have neither head offices nor publica- 
tions; they never organize public 

demonstrations nor parade through 
the streets. 

If I am to believe the information 
given to me in Japan, these societies 
are organized like cells. Their members 
do not know, and none among them 
knows, who is the head of the organi- 
zation. In order to be admitted into 
one of these societies one must submit 
to an extremely severe ceremony. The 
orders from above are blindly exe- 
cuted. Cowardice or treason are pun- 
ished by death. This does not neces- 
sarily mean that the chiefs execute 
their victims with their own hands. 
More often they content themselves 
with condemning them to commit 
suicide, as has been the Japanese cus- 
tom for six decades. And knowing 
Japanese psychology it is easy to 
understand that these orders are re- 
spected. If the police wanted to inves- 
tigate the causes of the numerous 
suicides that have lately taken place 
in Tokyo, they should first of all take 
the trouble to look into the political 
affiliations of the victims. 

It is not only treason that is punish- 
able by death. Mistakes, even invol- 
untary, are accorded the same punish- 
ment. In this connection, a typical 
example has been given us in the 
Inouye trial. The case in question 
is that of Lieutenant Nishida, who, 
when the conspirators were planning 
an air raid on Tokyo, had been charged 
with finding out whether the police 
were or were not aware of this project. 
After a detailed investigation Lieu- 
tenant Nishida believed that he could 
safely tell his superiors that the au- 
thorities had not yet gotten wind of 
the raid. Doubtless he was purposely 
misled, because a few hours later the 
thirteen conspirators were arrested. 
Although it was proved that Lieu- 




tenant Nishida had not betrayed any- 
thing and was not guilty of any 
connection with the police, they found 
him dead in his apartment two days 
after his comrades were arrested. 

Needless to say, his murderer was 
never found. 

For the hands of the secret societies 
in Japan are as long as the hands of 
Allah . . . 

II. The Coming War in the East 
By A Harbin Correspondent 

From the China Weekly Review, Shanghai English-Language Weekly 

^jLLL is set for action in Manchuria. 
To start the Soviet-Japanese war ap- 
pears to be the easiest of all. Suffice it 
to enlarge one of the frequently oc- 
curring frontier incidents a little and 
both armies now gathered at the fron- 
tiers will leap on each other in a deadly 
struggle. That the situation has come 
to such a head appears to be obvious 
from the antagonistic and uncom- 
promising attitude of each side in 
nearly every issue affecting Soviet- 
Japanese relations. 

It is almost unbelievable that both 
sides will prove so peace-loving as to 
effect a speedy compromise on all the 
knotty problems affecting their rela- 
tions. In that case, after what has 
been said and done, both sides will 
prove to be arch-bluffers. In the mean- 
while, the frontier incidents mount in 
number as well as in gravity. 

Thus the condition of war already 
exists. It seems to be the simplest mat- 
ter to evolve it into war, for which 
both sides Japan and the U. S. S. R. 
appear to be ready. It will obviously 
be one of the bloodiest and the most 
destructive wars the world has ever 
seen, far surpassing in this respect the 
last World War. In view of this ex- 
tremely serious situation, it is timely 
to examine the strategic peculiarities 
of the impending war as told to the 

writer by a military expert whose 
name cannot for obvious reasons be 

One need not be an expert, he said, 
to see that Manchuria is in a pecul- 
iarly advantageous position in war 
against the U. S. S. R. Being sur- 
rounded on all sides by mountain 
ranges (the Great Khingan Mountains 
in the west, the Ilkuri-Alin and the Lit- 
tle Khingan Mountains in the north 
and the Tienboshan Mountains in the 
east), Manchuria represents a vast 
fortress situated between loosely con- 
nected Soviet territories in Trans- 
Baikal and the Maritime Provinces of 
Siberia. In view of these peculiar top- 
ographic characteristics, Manchuria is 
in a specially advantageous situation 
for both offensive and defensive opera- 
tions against the Red Army. The three 
rivers the Argun, the Amur and the 
Ussuri running along the named 
mountain ranges, serve as natural 
ditches which will have been taken 
and crossed by the invading army 
before it reaches the footsteps of these 
mountains. Judging by the experience 
of the Great War, as well as of the 
present Italo-Abyssinian campaign, it 
appears to be certain that, if these 
mountain ranges are held by a modern 
army, in the present case by the Japa- 
nese Army, they will be made almost 




impregnable. Hence the Red Army 
will have to seek a decision in plains 
lying before these mountains, pre- 
sumably along the Outer Mongolian 
as well as the eastern frontiers. 

The most suitable season for the 
Japanese Army to begin war is cer- 
tainly the spring or the summer, for 
operations of 191 8-1 922 in Siberia 
proved conclusively that the Japanese 
troops were at their best in warm sea- 
sons, whereas the Red Army would 
welcome the commencement of opera- 
tions in the winter, as the Russian 
soldier is better adapted to cold than 
his Japanese adversary is. 

However, there is one serious dis- 
advantage for the Japanese to begin 
war in the warm season; it will be 
difficult, if not entirely impossible, to 
cross the Amur River with a view to 
cutting off the Amur Railway at its 
most vulnerable places near the river. 
On the other side, the Japanese air 
force, on which the high command will 
rely from the first hour of hostilities, 
would be at its best in the warm sea- 
son, whilst the Soviets, judging by 
their spectacular flights in the Arctic, 
appear to have developed motors 
capable of hitchless running in the 
coldest part of the season. 

For the Japanese another advan- 
tage of beginning war operations in 
the warm season lies in the possibility 
of utilizing their navy to the fullest 
extent, which can be done only in the 
spring or the summer. In that case, the 
huge Soviet coastal line, extending 
from the Bering Strait down to the 
Soviet-Korean frontier, would be open 
to attacks. The Japanese will doubt- 
less take full advantage of this su- 
periority, harassing the Soviet side 
by demonstrations all along the 
coastal line, which will, however. 

have no effect on the main issue then 
being fought out on Manchurian 

It is obvious that both sides will 
pursue one aim: to crush the enemy 
in the shortest possible time, for which 
purpose they will throw all available 
forces air, land and naval in the 
field. Hence the first weeks of the 
combat will defy all comparison, both 
sides clashing in a series of continuous 
frontal assaults all along the frontier 
line extending from Suiyuan Province 
in China up to the Soviet-Korean 
border. Both sides will have one pur- 
pose underlying all their activities 
to snatch the initiative of action from 
the enemy, to bend him to their own 
will, and by a series of continuous on- 
slaughts to crush him entirely and 
completely. This will necessitate the 
bringing of all available reserves and 
throwing them to the main strategic 
points. The Manchurian railways and 
highways, on which the Japanese have 
been busy since 1932, will have proved 
invaluable in these hours of trial. 


Assuming that the hostilities have 
begun in the warm season, it is only 
natural to expect that the decisive 
battles will be fought out in the west 
and in the east. In the west, the front 
will extend from the Kerulen River all 
along the Argun River valley, the 
main clashes occurring on the flanks, 
especially in the Kerulen River valley. 
For an expert, the present frontier 
clashes in this district have therefore a 
double meaning to secure a strategic 
position menacing the flank and the 
rear of the enemy. A flanking attack 
on the enemy centered along the 
Chinese Eastern Railway or its con- 



tinuation to Chita would therefore 
work wonders. 

In the east, the main battle is likely 
to be fought out on the front extending 
from the Possiet Bay to Lake Khanka 
with no less severe battles along the 
Ussuri River. On the outcome of this 
grand battle the fate of Vladivostok 
will depend whether it will remain 
cut off from the main body of the Red 
Army or not. The first and the most 
sanguinary air battles are likely to 
take place here, because the Soviet 
air bases located near Vladivostok and 
Nikolsk-Ussuriski, by virtue of their 
proximity to the frontier, constitute a 
permanent menace to Manchuria, 
Korea and Japan, and the Japanese 
will most certainly try to eliminate 
this danger once and for all. 

The operations on other strategic 
directions, e.g. in the regions of Kal- 
gan, Dolon Nor, Bor Nor, the Amur 
and the Ussuri Rivers, will have more 
or less the character of demonstrations 
facihtating the main operations along 
the western and eastern fronts. On 
the other hand, the outcome of these 

operations is likely to depend upon 
the results of relatively minor opera- 
tions on the flanks of the contending 
armies, for on the main fronts the 
operations will very soon take the 
form of trench warfare. It is therefore 
correct to assume that no less impor- 
tance will be given to demonstrations 
and side-maneuvers aimed at outflank- 
ing the enemy and menacing his com- 
munications. The extended character 
of the front, occupying an enormous 
area from Suiyuan Province to the 
Possiet Bay in the east, affords an 
excellent opportunity for the exercise 
of military talents not only in general 
headquarters, charged with the con- 
duct of all operations, but more specifi- 
cally of those in charge of independent 

Many persons ask: Who will come 
out victorous in this war? The ques- 
tion is obviously out of the scope of 
pure strategy; but the true answer to 
it should be sought in the state of the 
rear during the extended warfare. In 
this respect, both sides appear to be 
not quite as safe as some people assume. 

Who Loveth Well . . . 

The Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals has 
asked the Emperor of Abyssinia to accept the Silver Medal for Meri- 
torious Services. This is the Society's highest award. It is to be in recog- 
nition of the Emperor's having presented land on which an 'animals' 
hospital has been built, and for his support of the Animal Protection 
Society in Abyssinia. His daughter is Vice-President of that society. 
In 1933 Signor MussoHni was awarded this medal for declaring the 
island of Capri a bird sanctuary. 

From the Daily Telegraphy London 

Persons and Personages 

Chancellor Schuschnigg of Austria 
By Verax 

Translated from the Revue des Deux Mondes, Paris Conservative Bi-Monthly 

lODAY, fortunately, it is more difficult to gain access to Vienna's 
Ballplatz than it used to be. A detachment of specially chosen 
guards, proudly bearing the name of 'Infantry of the Guard,' and gar- 
risoned in the wing facing the Hofburg, stands on sentry duty all around 
the palace. Some of them are posted under the high portal, which was so 
easily passed by the Putschists' lorries on that fateful day in July, 1 934. 
These handsome fellows they are all chosen for their stature as well as 
for their military quahties also mount guard over the staircase, once 
scaled by Planetta and his men, up to the room where the ex-officer fired 
point blank at his illustrious victim. 

Today this same room is the office of Chancellor Schuschnigg's two 
private secretaries. But its appearance has hardly changed since the day 
of Dollfuss's murder. The chairs, covered with old-fashioned brocade, 
in which the martyred Chancellor used to receive some of his French 
visitors, are still there: only the sofa which completed the set, and which 
the dying man drenched with his life's blood, has been taken away to 
be put in the annex of the 'Church of the Two Chancellors,' where 
Dollfuss and Seipel sleep their last sleep side by side. A lamp burns night 
and day before a statue of the Mater Dolorosa, which was given to 
Dollfuss by a Tyrolean sculptor after the first unsuccessful attempt on 
his life. When one enters the adjoining cabinet, now occupied by the 
President of the Council, one sees the death-mask of his predecessor 
piously set in a place of honor. 

Kurt Schuschnigg has also changed little. This man, whom the 
dying Chancellor named, with fever-parched lips, as his successor, is now 
only thirty-nine years old. He is a tall, blond intellectual. His blue-gray 
eyes, behind their tortoise-shell glasses, have a peculiar caressing sweet- 
ness when he smiles his frank, youthful smile. They can grow luminous 
when he talks about Racine at a Congress of Pan-Europa or steel-gray 
and hard when he exhorts the crowds of the Catholic youths, whom he 
has organized into military groups. 

Kurt von Schuschnigg comes from one of those families which formed 
the backbone of Old Austria and contributed some of its best elements to 
the New. Fate did well in making him a Tyrolean (he was born in Riva, 


December 14, 1897), and thus giving him for his birthplace a region 
which represented the * yellow and black ' Imperial tradition, but which 
historical and geographical factors had made a veritable cosmopolitan 
melting pot. When he was nine years old he left the good elementary 
school m Vienna where his father was then on garrison duty and entered 
the Stella Matuiina^ the famous Jesuit school at Vorarlberg, known of old 
as a traditional nursery of the Austrian aristocracy and high bourgeoisie. 

He was a model pupil there, particularly amazing his schoolmates 
and teachers by his natural, cultivated eloquence, a quality which 
still distinguishes him today. The good fathers, remaining faithful to 
the tradition of the educational value of the theater, discovered in him a 
talent for acting doubtless another unconscious preparation for his 
poUtical life. His schoolmates recall that even then he had a horror of 
injustice and trickery. Although a good sport, 'he would never prompt in 
class: he took his work too seriously for that,* one of them told me, with 
an amusing Httle twinge of malice. 

He graduated with high honors. That was in 191 5. The son of Gen- 
eral von Schuschnigg was not content to fight Livy's and Shakespeare's 
battles. He volunteered in the fourth artillery regiment, and soon won 
his second lieutenant's stripes. In 1917, when he was nineteen years old, 
he distinguished himself in action as an artillery observer a position of 
great responsibility, as anyone familiar with military science knows. 
During the last days of the War, both he and his father were taken 
prisoner, and were not released until the following year. 

KURT VON SCHUSCHNIGG'S political convictions and militant ardor 
made it impossible for him to go on peacefully practicing his lawyer's 
profession. Politics called him, and so the young Tyrolean soon came to 
head the Catholic youth movement, and in time attracted the attention 
of a Viennese in the Christian Social party, Magister Seipel. 

The two men differed in many respects. One was a son of the common 
people, a plebeian who, despite his origins, was drawing farther and 
fartner away from the masses: he saw them only as an abstract entity 
to whose regeneration he had pledged his efforts. The other, a descendant 
of many generals, was an aristocrat who entered into the political and 
social battle with an inherited instinct to command, reinforced by per- 
sonal experience under fire. Besides this there was a considerable dif- 
ference in age some twenty years. But, on the other hand, how many 
points the two had in common even physical resemblance, which struck 
all who knew them ! There was an astonishing similarity in the construc- 
tion of their faces, in the planes of their brows, in their vigorously drawn 
eyebrows, their hooked noses, prominent cheekbones, obstinate jaws, 
and thin lips. 



And the moral resemblance was even more striking. Both of them 
lived only for two causes, which were blended into one in their minds and 
hearts: Catholicism, and Austrian national consciousness. Both worked 
under a profoundly religious inspiration, which colored all their activities 
an inspiration which the one acquired in the Seminary, the other in 
the Stella Matutina. All their speeches were like sermons; even now the 
classical formula of 'three points' divides Schuschnigg's speeches into 
'first,' 'secondly,' and 'thirdly.' Both of them were monarchists, but 
convinced that restoration was impossible, and that a good patriot ought 
to strive to attain the well-being and prosperity of his country under 
whatever regime was for the moment best able to keep order. On account 
of the affection shown him by its aging chief, Schuschnigg, who was 
elected a deputy at twenty-nine, was soon dubbed the 'dauphin of the 
Christian Socialist Party.' 

In the ParHament Kurt von Schuschnigg proved himself so com- 
petent a jurist that he was given the post of permanent reporter on 
juridical and budgetary questions. His report on the constitutional 
reform of 1929, exceptionally lucid in style and well-grounded in doctrine, 
brought its author such renown that, when the cabinet was re-formed 
under Buresch, in January, 1932, the deputy Schuschnigg was appointed 
Minister of Justice. One of his colleagues, who was a little older than he, 
the Minister of Agriculture DoUfuss, soon became his best friend. Seipel 
regarded the two men as the leading representatives of their generation : 
he used all his influence to push them to the fore. Both of these 'prelate's 
choir-boys,' as they were derisively called by their opponents of the 
Left, were stirred by the same love for country and Church. Schuschnigg, 
alone of all the Ministers of that cabinet, remained staunchly at Doll- 
fuss's side when the latter became the President of the Council, through 
the portentous years of the struggle of the Christian corporative regime 
against the double attack of international Marxism and Nazi Pan- 

In May, 1933, the Minister of Justice added to his portfolio another 
one: that of Public Education. Schuschnigg had always understood that 
the real stake in the battle being waged by the Austrian patriots was 
the youth of Austria, whose respect for tradition was destroyed in the 
dark post- War years. Conscious of the decisive role the younger genera- 
tion was bound to play in the future, he was able to organize schoolboys 
and students into the rapidly growing Sturmscharen, but so far only 
under religious auspices. As Mmister of Education he commanded a 
much wider jurisdiction. His main purpose was to restore to patriotism 
and religion the prestige which they had lost in public education. 
Particular pressure was brought to bear on the universities, where the 
continued indulgence of the professors had permitted an abnormal 


development of pro-Germanic sentiments ^sentiments dangerously 
exploited by the wearers of the Swastika. * Patriotic ' education includ- 
ing pre-military training became an integral part of school and univer- 
sity programs. 

THE assassination of Dr. Dollfuss, in July, 1934, and the uprisings of 
the militant Hitlerites which followed, began Schuschnigg's career as 
Chancellor under a bloody star a specially painful ordeal for that 
profoundly Christian idealist. The way he came out of this ordeal 
gained him prestige both at home and abroad. He had to travel a good 
deal (luckily he likes traveling, as he told me himself). He went to Italy, 
to Hungary, to London, Paris, and Prague. Everywhere he went, the 
reserve which was naturally maintained toward the unknown young 
man who had taken over the illustrious Dollfuss's post gave way to the 
warmest sympathy and the most sincere esteem. Along with the various 
political, economic and cultural treaties, Schuschnigg brought back from 
his journey a series of decorations to add to those won in the War. At 
official gatherings the profusion of medals and ribbons he wears on his 
black frock coat seems oddly at variance with his face, which, in spite of 
his prematurely gray hair, is still so young. 

Chancellor Schuschnigg is a lover of art in all its forms, but partic- 
ularly (as is natural in a typical Austrian) of music. He acquired a taste 
for sacred music in school, but, besides the best French and Italian 
composers, he also loves the great Austrian classics, and particularly 
Beethoven. He has a special section in his library reserved for the 
composer of the Eroica. On some of his rare evenings of relaxation he 
loves to listen to Fidelio^ that forgotten old opera whose revival is one of 
the triumphant events of the day. He has participated in a very special 
way in another revival, too: that of Gluck's ancient masterpiece, 
Orpheus and Eurydice^ whose Elysian beauty was interpreted by Bruno 
Walter. Is it surprising to learn that on that occasion the future Chan- 
cellor played the 'cello? 

When I asked him about his tastes and his recreations-, I already 
knew that, as a former officer, he rides horseback whenever he can spare 
the time before putting in his unfailingly punctual appearance at one of 
his offices. He told me also that he loved swimming. Smilingly we ran 
over these two forms of sport, which are so closely associated with 

The musician, the art lover, and the sportsman combined in the 
Minister of Education to call forth the activities in which he engaged at 
a moment when it was necessary for the State to step in and take over 
the services formerly rendered by the now destitute Maecenases 
services without which a nation's artistic level would inevitably decline. 


It is not by chance that Schuschnigg's name is so closely connected with 
the Venice Biennale, with the success of the Salzburg festivals, and with 
the cultural pacts in whose promulgation his Government has taken the 
initiative, and one of which has recently been concluded between Vienna 
and Paris. 

IN ORDER to summarize Chancellor Schuschnigg's position on the prin- 
cipal problems which his Government faces today, it would be easy to 
refer to his addresses, which he has built up into a sort of permanent 
manual. I thought it preferable to get an up-to-date summary of his 
activities from his own lips, and this he consented to give me through 
the medium of an unofficial statement. This is in substance what the 
Chancellor said: 

*A complete reconstruction of the Government was necessary to 
bring a new Austria into being. The "DoUfuss course of action" means, 
on the one hand, adherence to the general line of Austrian independence; 
on the other, the creation of the corporative regime. At the time of 
Dollfuss's assassination, the foundations of the latter had already been 
legally fixed by the constitution of 1934. From then on it was merely a 
matter of carrying out the project according to given directions. There 
was never any question of copying the forms of government of any other 
countries. On the contrary, we are convinced that every state ought to 
shape its government in accordance with its own peculiar historical, 
social and economic conditions. 

'The corporative Christian Government which is now being set up in 
Austria is not at all opposed to the principles of true democracy. But it is 
necessary to know just what the word means. If it means the right of the 
people to help govern themselves within the limits of their professional 
or social interests, or the perfect equality of all before the law, then the 
new Austrian constitution is an excellent example of democracy. Only it 
aims to help these principles take a more adequate modern form. The 
elevation of the masses into a ruling class led Austria into a situation 
which became unbearable as soon as it was necessary to carry on the 
struggle for independence. 

*It cannot be denied that, without any compulsion on our part, the 
last three years rallied all the forces of Austrian national consciousness 
to the defense of Austrian independence. This rally has been accom- 
plished by the Patriotic Front, which has replaced the old political 
parties. But let me explain here how the political development of Austria 
differs from that of the other countries in which there has been a devia- 
tion from the principles of ultra-parliamentary democracy. In Austria 
there is no law decreeing the identity of the Patriotic Front with the 
Government. The functions of the head of the government and those of 


the chief of the political organization may coincide, as they did in the 
case of Dollfuss, but this is not required by law. I believe it to be a 
typical characteristic of a corporative Christian State (which, as I have 
already said, has many genuine democratic traits) that the two functions 
can be entrusted to different hands as long as the will of the Austrian 
people is taken into consideration. Thus we have a guarantee against 
dictatorship or despotism. 

*It goes without saying that all the professional organizations, and 
particularly those of the workers and employers, have found their 
place in the ranks of the Patriotic Front. The rumors constantly spread 
by anti-Austrian propagandists of supposed dissension in the ranks of 
the Austrian patriots are fortunately false. The last three years have 
given us sufficient proof of this. The responsible leaders of the party do 
not pay much attention to these rumors. They know what they want, 
and they have already advanced by methodical stages far along the road 
of reconstruction. 

'The New Austria is not a powerful factor in international politics. 
We understand that perfectly. But we do believe that even the reduced 
Austria of today still remains an important and perhaps indispensable 
ally of whoever desires to work for the peace of Europe and therefore 
for the progress of humanity and the happiness of all nations. 

*We certainly believe that the dismemberment of the former great 
Danubian economic area was a fatal mistake. The men who wrote the 
treaty of St. Germain should rather have sought ways and means of 
giving the peoples of Central Europe the economic complements of 
which they are in such great need. Today no one can any longer speak of 
a political, military or national menace from the Danubian region. In 
view of this it should be all the easier to obtain cooperation without 
arousing any resentment. I am firmly convinced that the time is favor- 
able to these ideas, and I am happy that they are finding an ever- 
widening reception. 

*The v^lue of cultural contacts and I am far from forgetting those 
with France is obvious to anyone who remembers the many intellectual 
ties which have always bound Vienna to the rest of the world. The pact 
which we have already signed with our neighbors of Hungary and Italy 
has contributed greatly to the mutual understanding of the three na- 

'The stronger are the spiritual, artistic, literary ^in a word, cultural 
ties uniting our capitals, the more certain will we be that a universal 
idea uniting all men will eventually triumph over the antagonisms now 
dividing the nations. One does not need to believe in the old dream, 
beautiful as it was, of the possibility of eliminating all conflicting 
interests, and establishing eternal peace, to recognize that the world's 


intellectual community must have at least some permanent centers, 
some super-natural markets of exchange for spiritual commodities; and 
that is why, without forgetting the importance of its Germanic past 
and its Germanic characteristics, it is in eternal Austria that I believe.' 

Charles Maurras and the Action Francaise 
By D. W. Brogan 

From the Spectator, London Conservative Weekly 

IHE smashing-in of President Loubet's hat at a race meeting was 
one of the turning-points of the great Dreyfus crisis; and the attack on 
Mr. Leon Blum may be the turning-point in the attack on parliamentary 
democracy, which has raged in France since the winter of 1933-4. It is, 
at any rate, symbolically fitting that the attack should have resulted in 
the suppression of the Action Frangaise and the conviction of Mr. 
Charles Maurras on a charge of incitement to murder. 

M. Maurras is now seventy, and for thirty years has been one of the 
most potent forces in moulding the mind of France. A whole generation 
has been marked by his thought, positively or negatively. The future 
doctor of the neo-royalist school is not, he has told us, strictly a ' blanc 
du midi^ one of those meridional royalists by birth and family tradition 
who have never wavered in their devotion to the House of France. His 
family were staunchly Catholic, and were taken in for a time by the 
Second Empire and even by Mr. Thiers and the Third Republic. But 
their son, educated at Catholic schools, escaping the irreligious atmos- 
phere of the State lycees^ lost his beHef in the faith of his fathers very 
early, and for a time remained in poHtics, as in theology, an agnostic. 
His first efforts at influencing the mind of his time were literary; he was 
a poet and a critic of the 'hole romane^ whose literary importance does 
not seem today to be of the first order. It was a commission from his 
paper, the venerable and impotent royalist Gazette de France^ that re- 
vealed to Mr. Maurras his mission. He was sent to report the Olympic 
Games of 1896 at Athens. His passion for classical antiquity was given 
new force, and his pride as a Frenchman was humiliated, by his discovery 
of how far France had fallen in the outside world from her natural estate 
as la grande nation. 

These bitter reflections were made even less palatable by the great 
agitation in favor of risking the military safety of France (from the 
point of view of Mr. Maurras) to right a supposed injustice done to a 
Jewish officer. Mr. Maurras did not admit, then or since, that any in- 
justice had been done; but even if Dreyfus were innocent, his liberty 
was too dearly bought at the expense of endangering France. Justice 


was a vague and uncertain word; France was a reality more beneficent 
and more tangible than any other presented to Frenchmen by this dark 
universe. With these doctrines firmly held and constantly asserted, Mr. 
Maurras threw himself into the struggle, and the obscure poet and critic 
was soon known as the most formidable of the assailants of the Drey- 

He was acclaimed by the young and ardent, by Henry Vaugeois, by 
Jacques Bainville; then, in 1904, by the French Cobbett, Leon Daudet. 
The review, L Action Frangaise, founded by Vaugeois, soon became the 
main vehicle of Maurrasian doctrine, and, to the amusement of many 
and the anger of some, the central political doctrine taught was that the 
only salvation of France lay in a return to the monarchy and that not 
to any milk-and-water imitation of English constitutional monarchy. 
The King would reign and govern. France needed a government 'with 
a punch,' and she could only get it from the *heir of the forty kings who 
in a thousand years made France.' 

TO A generation looking on the Bourbons as being as remote as the 
Merovingians, thinking of the Pretender (as did Swann) chiefly as a 
social leader with whom it was chic to have relations, the new doctrine 
seemed fantastic. So it seems to most Frenchmen to this day, but Mr. 
Maurras made many converts great figures like Jules Lemaitre and 
then Paul Bourget and, more significant, hundreds of young men. The 
review became a daily in 1908, and as the menace of a great war became 
clearer, the Action Frangaise was one of the great forces behind the 
nationalist revival. In that revival many collaborated, but all of the 
leaders recognized the primacy of Mr. Maurras. That power of command 
was based mainly on the pen. Both friends and enemies have borne 
testimony to the astonishing dialectic powers which M. Maurras can 
develop in conversation; but a steadily increasing deafness makes it im- 
possible for him to talk to more than one person at a time, and this de- 
stroys any oratorical ambitions that may be present, and forces greater 
and greater reliance on writing. 

The Royalist leader is not a conspicuous public figure. Most of his 
waking hours are spent in writing or in reading in preparation for the 
daily leading article. In summer he spends a holiday in his house, Le 
Chemin de Paradis, near Martigues, and that Etang de Berre whose 
glories he has celebrated. His flat is guarded by * Camelots du roi,' who 
do their spell of duty with a zeal that is touching. It is no more remark- 
able than Mr. Maurras's. He early lost faith in all absolutes; but one 
relative good is so supreme in his classification of categories that it is, 
for all practical purposes, as much an absolute as any talked about by 
dangerous German or imbecile French philosophers. Only within a secure 


France can a Frenchman live and only within the French tradition can 
he live well. Outside that tradition are the 'four confederated states,' 
Free-Masons, Protestants, Jews, * metequesj the rulers of modern France 
who put some other good of their race, of their religion, of their 
* ideals ' before that of France. 

Mr. Maurras is not a Catholic, but there is a sense in which he can 
claim to be a Roman Catholic, with the emphasis on the adjective. The 
great merit of the Church is that it has disciplined the dangerous He- 
braic ideas of the Bible that from Luther through Rousseau and Kant 
have come to plague modern Europe and modern France. Mr. Maurras, 
from the moment he became a political force, has tried to keep his own 
religious views in the background, though an old Catholic collaborator 
now estranged from him (Mr. Louis Dimier) tells us that Mr^ Maurras 
once declared that 'your religion has defiled the world.' But when the 
choice is between Rome and Geneva or Jerusalem there can be no 
hesitation. It is important to remember that the Reformation is a live 
issue in Provence and that, by ancestry, Mr. Maurras is as decidedly on 
one side of the fence as Mr. Andre Gide is on the other. In a revealing 
anecdote, Mr. Maurras tells us how he denounced Calvinism to a rising 
young politician who was, like himself, sympathetic to decentralization 
and the renascence of the Midi to discover that Mr. Doumergue (for 
it was he) was himself one of the hated sect: 

Heretics all^ wherever you be. 

In Tarbes or Ntmes or over the Sea, 
You never shall have a good word from me, 

Caritas non conturbat me. 

It does not, indeed, and even the tolerant French have found some of 
the attacks in the Action Frangaise intolerably brutal. 

The paper reached its height of influence during and after the War; 
it helped to overthrow Messrs. Caillaux and Malvy, then to overthrow 
Mr. Briand and bring about the invasion of the Ruhr. Its quarrel with 
the Church came to a head in 1926, and it is rumored that it was not the 
infidel Mr. Maurras, but the bellicosely Catholic Mr. Daudet who re- 
fused to climb down. The condemnation cost the movement dear in 
money and prestige, but the Stavisky affair and the rise of Hitlerism 
brought it new power. *We told you so!' was not an ineffective cry in 
face of the corruption of the administration by a meteque and the ap- 
parent demonstration of the folly of the policy of concessions to Ger- 
many preached by Briand and endorsed by Pope Pius XI. In the riots 
that culminated on the sixth of February, the Camelots du roi were, if 
not the most numerous, the most skilful assailants of the police. 

But that success was damaging to the Action, for many of its normal 


supporters went over to the more powerful Croix de Feu. The recovery 
of the Left from its panic, the financial troubles of the organization, the 
rage provoked by the survival of such politicians as Mr. Chautemps and 
the sorrow caused by the death of Mr. Bainville have had a not unnat- 
ural conclusion. It is not the first time that Mr. Maurras has faced such 
charges, and, odious as the assault was, there is some sympathy for the 
old man eloquent. Even his enemies have to admit his disinterestedness, 
for talents like his have a high price in France, but they have never been 
put on the market. They have, instead, been devoted to a cause not 
merely lost, but antipathetic. For Mr. Maurras is by temperament not 
an ally of authority, but 2ifrondeur, the natural author oi mazarinades, 
and the clash between his principles and his temperament has only 
been averted by the hopelessness of his cause. 

Mikhail Nikolaievich Tukhachevski 

By Max Werner 
Translated from the Neue Weltbiibney Prague German Emigre Weekly 

lUKHACHEVSKI is the most talked of army leader in Europe 
these days. The negotiations which he conducted m London and Paris 
were intended to build up the miUtary foundations of the newly rising 
Entente. They were the most important negotiations of this kind since 

The deep interest this leader of the Red Army has aroused in the 
west is readily understood. Tukhachevski has done much for the modern- 
ization of the Red Army. He was commandant of the western (White 
Russian) mihtary district of the Soviet Union, and he is without doubt 
more familiar with the regions along the western Soviet border than any 
other person. Even his enemies respect him. General von Cochenhausen, 
a great military theorist of the Third Reich, has written a book about the 
history of the military arts 'from Prince Eugene to Tukhachevski;' and 
the Russian emigre Colonel Zaitzev calls him the most eminent expert 
the Red Army has. 

Tukhachevski is an expert soldier and a party man as well. Of noble 
birth, he was an officer of the guards in the famous Semyonov Regiment 
of the Tsarist Army, and distinguished himself by his reckless bravery 
during the World War. When Sievers' army was shattered, Tukhachevski 
was taken prisoner by the Germans. He attempted to escape several 
times and was taken to the fortress of Ingolstadt, where the most unruly 
prisoners were confined. The French journalist de Fervacque, who was a 
fellow prisoner, tells of the young lieutenant's audacity and defiance. 
News of the Russian Revolution spread abroad. A rare case the lieu- 


tenant of the guards sympathized with the revolutionary Left while he 
was still a prisoner! His fifth attempt to escape succeeded. In revolu- 
tionary Petrograd Tukhachevski soon found his place in the head- 
quarters of the Red Army and not merely as an expert: he became a 

In the Civil War he forged his way rapidly to the front ranks. The 
first large troop concentration of the Red Army, the First Army, was 
placed under his command, and his troops won the Soviet Army's first 
significant victory. This was near Simbirsk, in the summer of 191 8. 
Later, in the fall of 1 919, as commander of the Fifth Army, he defeated 
Kolchak in Siberia. 

Tukhachevski was now anxious to transform the Red Army into a 
regular army as quickly as possible. His capacity for work, his tenacity, 
and his ingenuity strategically were astonishing. He sought to compre- 
hend empirically the strategic measures of the Civil War; he studied the 
special movements of the troops over vast distances; he learned to stake 
everything on one card and win in doing it. Then the twenty-seven- 
year-old general developed a political doctrine of warfare, the theory of 
socialist 'external class war.' 

Came the Russo-Polish War. Why did Tukhachevski's offensive fail? 
In his book, Tbe Campaign on the Vistula^ he attempted to give an 
answer: the failure was due to the economic exhaustion of Soviet Russia 
and the strategic errors the commanding officers committed. In his 
work, ne Tear IQ20, Pilsudski attacked this view. He stated that 
Tukhachevski 'was indisputably no ordinary commander,' but a man 
with 'an exaggerated tendency to think in abstract terms.' Maybe so; 
objectively Pilsudski was doubtless right on one point: Tukhachevski 
came to grief over the gigantic distances in eastern Europe, for he was 
not able to master them. 

THE defeat before Warsaw taught the Red Army the very lesson 
which the defeat near Narva taught the army of Peter the Great. 
Tukhachevski did not forget his failure. It was then that he became a 
believer in the small, highly trained army, and an opponent of the 
militia. 'The militia system is Communist defeatism,' he wrote in Janu- 
ary, 1 92 1. He became a passionate propagandist for technical progress. 
Mastery of space that meant motorization and air forces. Tukhachev- 
ski has been the moving spirit of the Red Army's technical reforms. 
Round about 1930-31 the Red Army developed from the level of an 
eastern army to the standards of the armies of western Europe. Later 
even these standards were surpassed. 

Fifteen years ago Tukhachevski dreamed of a small, highly trained 
army. Today he has a large, highly trained army instead. The strategic 


weakness which was evident then can never return. The strategic im- 
petus received then has been given a powerful technical foundation. 

It was a shrewd move to have the young Marshal, who possessed all 
the social graces, conduct the negotiations in London and Paris. He is the 
man who is regarded as the actual reformer of the Red Army. In Paris, 
Tukhachevski spoke with Marshal Petain, with Chief of Staff Gamelin, 
with the Chiefs of the Air and Navy Staffs, as well as with all three 
Ministers of National Defense. This contact between the general staffs 
was over-due. The old Russian Military Convention of 1891 did indeed 
provide for simultaneous declarations of war, but a common plan of 
campaign was not then projected. The additions during the years 
1911-13 did not change the picture much. Without a doubt the Franco- 
Soviet Pact is purely defensive; nevertheless trusted methods of cooper- 
ation must be prepared in case of a hostile attack. The organization of a 
common defense for France and the Soviet Union would be a great 
achievement for Europe. Today the young Marshal emerges as the mili- 
tary organizer of a powerful European defensive coalition. 


When the House of Lords yesterday considered the special orders 
made under the Government of India Act, which set up an interim 
Constitution for the provinces of Orissa and Sind pending the beginning 
of the new Indian Constitution, Lord Zetland, Secretary for India, who 
submitted the orders for approval, killed the story that Sir Charles 
Napier announced the conquest of Sind in a message of one word to the 
Governor General: 'Peccavi' ('I have sinned'). 

* It is a good story,* said Lord Zetland, * and it will be found in more 
than one history of repute. It is always against one's inclinations to spoil 
a good story, but I am bound to say in the interests of historical accu- 
racy that my investigation into the matter seems to show that no 
foundation for the story exists. I have been told by men of an older 
generation that it is very unlikely that Sir Charles Napier had even as 
much knowledge of Latin as to enable him to send a dispatch of even one 
word in that language'. Lord Zetland added that the story probably 
had its origin in a paragraph in Punch in 1845. ^^ ^^Y ^^^^ ^^ ^^^ 
not been able to track it back any farther. 

From the Manchester Guardian, Manchester 


The leader of a pre-Nazi German youth;;;^:^-^' 
movement, disillusioned with Hitler, 
calls on his followers to resume the 
struggle which the Nazis have betrayed. 

An Epistle to 
f/ie Discontented 

By Kleo Pleyer 

Translated from B/ut und Boden, Hanover Organ of the 
Biindiscbe Movement 

[I'he following article is a document of 
prime interest because it throws a ray of 
light on the unrest and dissatisfaction 
which are known to exist in Hitler Ger- 
many but which are so seldom revealed 
to outsiders in any form except that of 
the international crises the Nazis pre- 
cipitate to quiet them. It was written by 
Kleo Pleyer y the founder and leader of 
the semi-socialistic and nationalistic 
youth movement which was known as the 
Biindische Bewegung. Despite the fact 
that Pleyer was himself a Nazi, the 
Biindische Bewegung was dissolved in 
^933' ^^^ ^^^ organ Blut und Boden 
continued to be published, and for a long 
time it appeared to be in general accord 
with Nazi policies. Tet, like many an- 
other early follower of Hitler, Pleyer 
seems to have been disillusioned at last. 
I'he publication in Blut und Boden of 
the article we have translated resulted in 
the instant suppression of that maga- 

zine. Readers who follow its wordy 
course closely will observe that it raises, 
among others, the following serious 
charges against the Nazi regime: that it 
has bogged down; that it harbors and be- 
friends reactionary influences; that it is 
pursuing an anti-Russian policy, though 
Germany has not a single quarrel with 
her eastern neighbor; that it has de- 
livered Germany into the hands of count- 
less prefects; that it has substituted the 
totalitarian state for the folk community 
it promised; that, despite its pledges, it 
has not broken the power of capital; and 
that it has developed the State at the 
expense of the people. It was probably 
an accumulation of resentments such 
as these which forced Hitler to reoccupy 
the Rhineland. ^The Editors.] 

PRESENT-DAY National Social- 
ism is evolution become static, 
movement become state. It is the fate 




of every victorious movement that 
having reached its goal it not only 
fulfills but also spends itself. He to 
whom the movement and its form are 
ends in themselves may regret this. 
Those, however, who, like us, have 
helped in the National Socialist move- 
ment as an instrument of German re- 
surgence will ever be bent upon carry- 
ing on with renewed energy that 
resurgence of the German people. The 
Latin nations, parliamentary-impe- 
rialist France and Fascist Italy, may 
reach their highest achievements by 
holding to the state they have created. 
We Germans, however, are a people of 
movement. By holding to a definite 
state of being we weaken and dissipate 
ourselves. Only in the onward surging 
movement do we release our innermost 
potentialities, do we reach the heights 
of effectiveness. For us it is not the 
war of position but the war of motion 
which is the suitable method of war- 
fare. This is true of the entire German 
struggle for existence. 

Progress does not exclude on the 
contrary, it requires the consolida- 
tion and extension of what has already 
been achieved. Such extension and 
fortification has been the task of Na- 
tional Socialism since it took over 
power. We are minded to lend a vigor- 
ous hand in these tasks; indeed, we 
are doing so, especially where the real 
National Socialist will is already be- 
ing objectively realized. This is the 
case in the whole field of popular edu- 
cation in so far as it is modeled on the 
biindische example of character-, mili- 
tary-, and labor-training. This is the 
case also with those beginnings in 
rural settlements for which our move- 
ment has furnished a model. This is 
the case, further, with the Pan-Ger- 
man work along the borders and 

abroad, work which we have built up 
in the past decade and which now 
needs merely to be carried on. This is 
true, finally, of the cultural life of 
youth, to which we have given such 
strong impetus and direction through 
our folk-song and folk-dance move- 
ment, through our celebrations of 
holidays, and through the manifold 
artistic work of the fVandervogel 
(Friends of Nature), as well as of the 
later biindische youth movement. 


It is, however, precisely at those 
points at which we are today lending 
a hand that we feel most directly the 
resistance oflFered by the powers of 
the 'Restoration' against our efl^orts 
for the reshaping of German life. In 
the Labor Service our comrades have 
encountered antiquated institutions 
of the age of Kaiser Wilhelm. The 
great settlement projects are opposed 
by a superannuated system of large 
landownership, which is as secure in 
Germany today as it was in France 
during the Restoration. This system is 
prepared to cede, if need be, a piece of 
land of inferior quality which sounds 
very well in print, but is of no signifi- 
cance for a practical settlement pro- 
gram, which must be carried out on 
the best available soil. In the Pan- 
German work along the' borders we 
are confronted by a reawakening of 
German separatist thought, a hold- 
over from the older generation; and in 
our work abroad we are facing a new 
westernization, which has sprung 
partly from youth groups. A hundred 
years hence the historian will in all 
probability be unable to understand 
why old-line diplomacy, supported by 
a section of the country's young men. 




should have sought to create the most 
intimate relations with the west and 
south, from which Germany has suf- 
fered so much humiliation, while 
having no, or at best very poor, rela- 
tions with the new Russia, with which 
we have not a single point of fric- 
tion. The anti-westerners how com- 
plete their silence is today! Shake 
them out of their slumber, whoever 
sees them! 

The danger of westernization, how- 
ever, confronts us not only in the field 
of foreign relations but also at home. 
The Napoleonic and Fascist examples 
lead to a confusion of the Latin pre- 
fect with the Germanic Fiihrer prin- 
ciple. Germany's countless Fiihrers 
are only in part actual leaders bound 
to their followers by ties of comrade- 
ship. For the most part they are pre- 
fects, mere superiors and command- 

German life, however, will in the 
long run tolerate only that form of 
biXndische organization which is pe- 
culiar to itself and consists in cooper- 
ation between the forces of collec- 
tivism and leadership. The denial of 
the collective will to autonomy can 
only be a temporary measure which 
serves the uniform adjustment of so- 
cial forces, but which must be re- 
scinded when this adjustment has 
been achieved. It is only from this 
angle that we can understand the new 
Prussian community code. The totali- 
tarian state is the deadly enemy of 
German life in so far as it means 
a Romish-central, Caesarean-Papist 
state without autonomy. 

It is a natural law of political science 
that the state extends its dominion 
along the line of least resistance. This 
is true in the field of foreign as well as 
of domestic aflfairs. The greatest re- 

sistance against the expansion of do- 
mestic German sovereignty is oflFered 
by industry and the Church; to be 
more exact, by exploiting interna- 
tional private capital in Germany and 
by the German section of the Roman- 
Catholic International. Until these 
two powers have been vanquished in- 
wardly and outwardly, there can be 
no permanent folk community and no 
sovereign state. 

Despite all Socialistic professions, 
the power of private capital has not 
been broken. It bedecks itself with 
Swastika flags, and contributes to the 
Winterhilfe, under the slogan of 'So- 
cialism of Action,* a few hundred 
marks, of which people have previ- 
ously been mulcted a thousand times 
over. It attempts to prove that unem- 
ployment can be abolished within the 
capitalist system, a contention which 
will soon prove to be an illusion. We of 
the bundische movement are not a 
militia. We are not the guardians of 
capitalist economy. We are the advo- 
cates of the new society, in which all 
economy will be organized collec- 
tively and will actually be under the 
sovereignty of the people and the 


It is not the first time that a ma- 
jority has thought that German life 
was secure and that it was being led 
toward a bright future, when actually 
Germany was being threatened at 
home and abroad and facing grave 
struggles. It was thus in 1871, and 
again in the era of Kaiser Wilhelm. 
We want to be awake and armed, to 
carry on at a thousand places in the 
country the guerilla war against the 
dangers of paralysis, enslavement, and 
romanization ! We do not want to fal 


into the fatal error of believing that the people; we are the impetus and 
the whole life of the people must the restlessness. The fVandervogely 
merge with the State. The State is the World War, the National So- 
static. The people are a fellowship in cialist movement, the new State are 
an historical mission; they are dy- but stages and fronts along which the 
namic, the flow of life, motion. We bundische advance of this century 
want not only the State but the surges toward the goal: the collective 
Reich. It is the Reich that includes society, the unity of the people in 
State and people, rest and motion, their own fate, the first true German 
We of the bundische movement are Reich. 

Life on the Dole 
Sir: Forced to exist on 4s. weekly for food in one room without 
fires or cooking facilities here is a typical week's expenditure. I drink 
water only. 

4 Tins Salmon is. od. 

a Wholemeal loaves 7^ 

3 Tins Sardines 9 

4 Punnets Mustard and Cress 8 

i^ lb. Margarine 7^ 

\ lb. Cheese 3^ 

3s. iiH 
Can any reader kindly suggest a better choice? I am 63. 
30 Union Street, Maidstone. A. E. Minton 

Sir: May I reply to your correspondent's letter on existing on 
4s. a week, as I have to do about the same.^ I do not find two loaves of 
bread enough in my case, and I should say a little milk in the cold water 
to drink. The carrots would be nicer boiled instead of eating them raw; 
but of course to boil the water would cost too much. 

3 Wholemeal loaves is. od. 

\ lb. Margarine i\ 

\ lb. Dripping 3 

I lb. Cheese 7 

I lb. Onions l^' 

I lb. Carrots i^ 

I lb. Broken biscuits 4 

1 lb. Dates 6 

I tin Evaporated milk 5 

10 Oranges 5 

3s. 1 1 Id. 
7 Lilford Road, London, S.E. 5. W. Leach 

From the New Statesman and Nation^ London 

An Irish author writes a short story 
about an elderly spinster who * had her 
own ideas of things and kept to them.* 

Miss Manning's 


From Life and Letters Today ^ 
London Literary Quarterly 


HEN John Manning died, and 
Miss Manning heard that by her 
brother's will she had been left in 
possession of the house in Richmond 
Road, together with an income of one 
hundred and twenty-five pounds a 
year, she was very pleased. She was 
tired of living with relatives who 
watched her movements, who didn't 
seem to like her going out alone, who 
didn't, indeed, like her going out 
much at all. Of course she didn't pay 
any more heed to their whims than 
was absolutely necessary. People, 
Miss Manning knew, didn't easily get 
the better of her. All the same it would 
be a pleasant change to be her own 

Her relatives were also pleased. 
They were pleased in spite of the cir- 
cumstance that, human nature being 
human nature, it was only natural to 
feel that number ten Richmond Road 
was rather a generous gift for an 
elderly spinster who was a little 

queer; there was an unconscious feel- 
ing that people who were a little queer 
shouldn't expect to be treated too 
well by the world. After all they gave a 
lot of trouble to other people owing to 
their oddity. 

Miss Manning had certainly given a 
lot of trouble to her relatives, par- 
ticularly to Mrs. Beckett, her married 
niece, with whom she had lived for the 
last twelve years. If it hadn't been for 
the money paid them regularly by 
Uncle John Manning, then they really 
couldn't have put up with her queer- 

Even so, often and often Mrs. 
Beckett had said that it wasn't worth 
it. It wasn't as if you could keep her 
out of the way, for she just wouldn't 
be kept out of the way. It was terrible 
when they had visitors in for bridge, 
and she would draw them on to one 
side, and complain that in spite of all 
the money the Becketts were being 
paid for her upkeep by her brother. 




who had promised their father, the 
late Colonel Manning of the Royal 
Irish Artillery, that he would never let 
his sister Sara come to want well, for 
all that money, she couldn't get a de- 
cent cup of coffee after her lunch, and 
though they loved her to keep to her 
bedroom, yet they wouldn't give her a 
fire. And so on and so forth. Or she 
would come out with strange remarks 
that made everyone feel uncomfort- 

It wasn't so bad with their real 
friends, people who understood the 
situation, but when someone new 
came to the house, perhaps an eligible 
young man who might be interested 
in their daughter, Deidre, then, as 
Mrs. Beckett said, it was a real mis- 
fortune to have not a skeleton in the 
cupboard, but a skeleton who would 
insist on coming out all over the place. 
It was true, she always added, that 
Aunt Sara was too plump to resemble 
a skeleton: her bones were well cov- 
ered. And why wouldn't they be with 
all she ate.^ 

Things came to a head when Miss 
Manning said one evening to young 
Mr. Peters, whose father was a very 
well-to-do solicitor: 

* So you're the Mr. Peters they were 
talking about that they've great hopes 
for catching for Deidre. Deidre's dying 
to be married, so she is, and I wouldn't 
say a word against her, except that 
she's flighty, and little good to cook 
you a meal, and does be running after 
all the young men, ringing them up 
and asking them to take her out, in- 
stead of sitting and waiting and 
minding herself. But maybe she'll 
settle down when once she has one 
hooked. All I'd tell you as a friend is 
that you'd be wise to take a good look 
at her first, for marriage is a serious 

step, too serious for me to have ever 
risked. But then my father, the late 
Colonel Manning of the Royal Irish, 
always said I was an irresponsible 
little rascal, the way I couldn't keep 
my mind on the one thing for more 
than a few seconds like other people 
can who haven't got a mind that does 
be running about the way it is with 

Deidre had got hysterical and 
yelled the place down when some of 
the speech came to her ears, and Mrs. 
Beckett had put on her hat, and gone 
out to Mr. Beckett in Richmond 
Road, and said very firmly: 

'Uncle John, you'll just have to 
make some other arrangement for 
Aunt Sara. She's ruining the lives of 
the three of us with her spite and wil- 
fulness and obstinacy. Money or no 
money, she's not worth it. She'd be 
better in a home where'll she'll be 
looked after, and where'll they'll be 
better able for her tricks.' 

Uncle John said: *I wouldn't like to 
see her put away.' 

She had thought when he said it 
how ill he looked. For a few moments 
he had meditated, hardly listening to 
her further recital of grievances. 
Then he'd said, 'I'd take the poor 
thing here, for there's no real harm in 
her, but I haven't long, and I want to 
make my soul in peace.* 

She remembered thinking that a 
queer thing to say, as if he were going 
to die. Of course he knew all the time. 

In the end he had offered to pay 
another fifty pounds a year until he 
could think out some other arrange- 

'Though what you'll do I don't 
know. Uncle,* Mrs. Beckett had said, 
'for Aunt Sara's got the better of 
every relative or friend that's ever 




taken her in and tried to be kind to 

Three months, and Uncle John had 
died. In his will was the new arrange- 
ment. His house to Miss Manning, 
and just enough for her to live on very 

'It will have to be very quietly. 
Aunt Sara, for the dear knows you'll 
have to have a maid, a superior maid 

Aunt Sara said with firmness: *I 
shall engage her myself. Naturally 
I shall need someone. My father 
wouldn't have liked to think of me 
waiting on myself.' 

All that Mrs. Beckett contrived 
was to be present at the interviews 
with the girls from the Agency. She 
tried to urge the claims of a sensible 
looking middle-aged woman, but Miss 
Manning said she resembled a horse. 
In the end they compromised over a 
girl from the country named Delia. 
Of course she was far too young, but 
at least she was neat and seemed re- 
spectful, and had good references. So 
with a private hint or two, and a 
prayer that she might have some peace 
now, Mrs. Beckett let it go. 


At first Miss Manning had rarely 
been happier in her life than she now 
found herself: a house of her own and 
a maid to order about. Of course the 
neighborhood had gone down sadly 
since she had lived there with her 
father and mother. They had nearly 
all been Protestants in Richmond 
Road in those days, but now the old 
families had died out, or gone to Eng- 
land, and who could blame them with 
this iniquitous De Valera ruining the 
country? Not that De Valera would 

make Miss Manning leave the coun- 
try: no, she thought, with a deter- 
mined shake of her head. But it was 
sad to see that some of the houses 
took in lodgers or let flats. It wasn't at 
all the same, as she told the neighbors 
whom she invited to take a cup of tea 
with her. 

But the neighbors had few man- 
ners, for they didn't ask her back 
again. That was the first rift in the 
lute. In fact they seemed to avoid her. 
There was a doctor and his wife next 
door, and the wife seemed a nice little 
thing, but after the first time Mrs. 
Clancy said she was too busy just 
now to come again. 

On the other side was a wealthy 
bookmaker and his sister. Miss Man- 
ning made no attempt to know them, 
for she was sure the late Colonel 
would not have approved of his 
daughter associating with bookmak- 

Farther down there was Mrs. Fitz- 
gerald, a widow, who kept two maids. 
But though they had a few words 
when they met in the road, Mrs. 
Fitzgerald wasn't actually friendly. 
She did drop in one afternoon, but she 
refused to have any refreshment at all. 

Mrs. Fitzgerald had, indeed, said to 
Dr. Clancy's little wife when they 
compared notes at the grocer's one 

'My dear, I couldn't bring myself 
to touch anything. Why, it might be 
poisoned. The poor thing's so odd, and 
says such odd things. And her brother 
such a nice man, too.' 

Meanwhile Miss Manning won- 
dered if Mrs. Clancy and the others 
were insufficiently impressed by her 
status and connections. She had a 
great notion one day; it was on a 
Tuesday when Delia was in the garden 





hanging out some washing to dry. 
Miss Manning pushed open the back 
room window, and called out to her: 

'Delia, come in at once. The roast 
chicken in the oven's burning. I can 
smell it all over the house.' 

She slammed the window down and 
was in the kitchen when Delia en- 

'What's that you were saying, 
Ma'am, about roast chicken ? ' 

'That it was burning.* 

' But, sure, there's no roast chicken 
or anything like it in the oven. It's 
only the cold meat we're having this 
day, and not too much of that either.' 

'Never mind, Delia. Our means 
may be straitened but it is the duty 
of those who have self-respect to keep 
up appearances. You can go now, but 
remember to come whenever I call 
you, and whatever I say.* 

After that, whenever she saw from 
her bedroom window Mrs. Clancy or 
Mrs. Fitzgerald in the back in the 
morning, she'd shout for Delia in 
front of an open window and tell her 
to mind the roast chicken. 'That'll 
give them an idea of the way I live,* 
she thought with delighted pride. 

But Delia wouldn't play properly. 
She'd come in slowly or descend the 
stairs, give her a long look, and then 
away with her again. 

'You might open the oven door and 
then give it a good slam, Delia.' 

' Why would I when there's nothing 
at all there?* 

'Don't give me back answers, girl. 
Do what you're bid and you'll never 
be chid, as my dear mother used to 

And she'd stand till Delia did it, 

When it got near Christmas time, 
she remembered about turkey, and 

now it was roast turkey that was al- 
ways in danger of being burnt. 'That'll 
show them that there's some that 
needn't wait till Christmas,' she 
would tell herself, wandering happily 
from room to room. 


But in the New Year, in spite of all 
the resolutions to improve that Miss 
Manning told her she ought to be 
making, Delia's behavior went from 
bad to worse. Often she wouldn't 
answer the bell. Then Miss Manning 
had to go to the top of the basement 
stairs, and call out: a thing that would 
never have been allowed in the house 
under her late father's regime. Of 
course from Delia's point of view. 
Miss Manning rang the bell very often 
and for nothing at all such as: 

'Delia, you couldn't have dusted 
the clock at all this morning. And 
after me telling you that this clock 
was a presentation to my dear father; 
so that as a consequence it pains me to 
the core of my heart to see it covered 
with ashes from the hearth from the 
time you cleaned out the grate. My 
dear mother used to write "slut" 
with her finger when she saw anything 
as thick laid with dust as that is. I'm 
just telling you . . .' 

Or even worse. 'Delia, there's the 
barrel organ down the- street. Take 
this penny out to him and ask him to 
do Miss Manning of number ten the 
favor of playing "Love's Sweet Song" 
once again. It's a tune I'm partial to.' 

Or, 'Delia, there's a child crying 
out in the road. Go out and ask him or 
her if he's lost, and what his name is. 
If he's hungry, give him a piece of 
bread and butter, with not too much 
butter on it . . .' 




Having to make a show of herself 
to a dirty grinning Italian, or to pre- 
tend to speak to some slobbering kid 
with Mrs. Clancy or Miss Evans, the 
bookie's sister, wondering what she 
was doing was bad enough. But worse 
came. In the spring, not unnaturally, 
Delia got herself a young man. Her 
own excitement over this event was 
nothing compared to Miss Manning's 
interest, for it was impossible to keep 
a thing from her peering and poking. 
Delia had two evenings off a week, 
but she was supposed to be in by ten. 
Sometimes she overstepped this bound- 
ary, and then there was a lecture: 

' Delia, listen now to what I'm going 
to tell you. Many and many a poor 
girl has come to rue and regret the 
day when she first set eyes on a mem- 
ber of the opposite sex, and let herself 
become a victim of his wiles and 
blandishments. Good name, reputa- 
tion, everything she should hold most 
dear gone as it were in a puff of smoke. 
Once gone, Delia, there's no getting it 
back. Now don't be impatient, Delia, 
and fiddle with your hands, for I was 
watching you last night standing 
with your young man and I don't 
think much of his looks, I must say, I 
should have thought you'd have done 
better for yourself but you were 
there standing and hstening to him, 
and then kissing for ten minutes and 
the clock tick, tick, tick till it said 
twenty-five past ten. I'm telling you, 
Delia, for my dear mother held her- 
self responsible for the welfare of all 
under her roof, and in those days 
there was a cook and two housemaids 
to watch over as a mother watches 
over her children, or a hen over her 
chickens, and that's the way I'm 
watching over you, Delia . . .' 

And so on, and so on. Now Delia, as 

it should be apparent, was a very pa- 
tient girl. She was far more patient 
than most girls of her years, for she 
had taken a sort of liking for Miss 
Manning and even sometimes de- 
fended her to her friends, who won- 
dered how she could possibly stay 
with her. But this watchfulness was 
more than flesh and blood could stand. 
She went back and reported to the 
agency; she easily secured another 
place, and then she broke the news to 
Miss Manning. It was received with 
magnificent composure. 

'Go, you ingrate, or ungrateful 
girl. Roast chicken for dinner most 
days,' for to Miss Manning the line 
between the real and the imaginary 
was not very distinct. 'The best of 
everything and nothing begrudged. 
You will live to repent this day in 
sackcloth and ashes. I say no more.' 

Miss Manning was indeed some- 
what surprised that Delia had stood 
the course so well. She couldn't imag- 
ine the average maid at Mrs. Beckett's 
doing so, and if it were not that she 
was getting a little tired of her face 
and the monotony of life, she would 
have been upset. 


Being a girl with a sense of responsi- 
bility, Delia wrote to Mrs. Beckett, 
and Mrs. Beckett arrived with promp- 
titude. Delia let her in, and since Miss 
Manning was up in her bedroom 
changing the ornaments from one old- 
fashioned winter hat to an even more 
old-fashioned spring one, she and 
Delia held some conversation before 
seeing Miss Manning. 

The mistress of the house, on being 
informed, swept in to her niece in a 
gracious mood. 'How do you do.^* 
Such nice weather for the season, is it 




not?* As a matter of fact, it was rain- 
ing, but Miss Manning had been too 
interested in hats that morning to 
look outside her bedroom. 

' I understand Delia's leaving. Now 
what are you going to do?* 

'Oh, I shall do well enough. That 
girl's behavior was getting ultra- 
modern. I have no complaint, but she 
was becoming what is now known as 

'There's no good discussing that. 
It's a marvel to me she stopped so 
long. Well, I suppose I shall have to 
try and find someone else. Someone 
older, who for the sake of a home will 
put up with things . . .* 

* I beg you will take no steps what- 
soever. It eats up too much of my 
small income. Delia eats a lot. She has 
an egg or else a rasher every morning, 
besides meat, roast chicken and so 
forth. I don't know what the maids 
are coming to.* 

'You have to feed a maid, you 
know. Aunt, and Delia was very rea- 

'Maybe, but I have finished with 
the servant class. I can mind myself 
well enough. Now let us change the 
subject. How is poor Deidre? Has she 
yet received a proposal of marriage?' 

* Talk sensibly. Aunt Sara. How can 
you manage for yourself? You that 
would never do a hand's turn, that 
would hardly even make a cup of tea 
for yourself?* 

"rhat*s true. Because there was no 
necessity. Now I'm going to move 
with the times. Say no more: my 
mind's completely arranged.' 

And though, for a full half hour Mrs. 
Beckett did her best. Miss Manning 
would not be persuaded. So she de- 
cided to leave her to it, thinking it's 
nearly summer time, and she can 

manage soon without much fire, but 
she'll have her lesson. It won't hurt 
her to find out what work really 

But Miss Manning was nothing if 
not ingenious in avoiding the finding 
out of what work was. 

At the back of her head she had al- 
ways thought that most housework 
was unnecessary, and could be elimi- 
nated. Chiefly it could be eliminated 
by ignoring it. One needn't sweep or 
dust; the bed could be made by draw- 
ing up the disarranged clothes (though 
as a matter of fact Miss Manning 
usually spent several hours over its 
making, returning at intervals to pro- 
ceed slowly from sheet to blanket, and 
from blanket to blanket), and as for 
the fire it could be kept going almost 

Work that could not really be 
evaded was 'washing up.* However 
careful one was, still the pile grew: 
frying pans and saucepans became 
burnt, greasy and generally unpleas- 
ing. She used every available utensil in 
the effort to avoid touching the un- 
pleasant accumulation, but in the end 
she exhausted the resources of the 
house. And still one had to eat. 

But Miss Manning was not a sol- 
dier's daughter for nothing. In this 
predicament she remembered Messrs. 
Boolcourth's, which dispensed sauce- 
pans and crockery on very moderate 
terms. She reminded herself that she 
was saving Deha's keep. So twice a 
week Miss Manning got in the tram 
and went up to the city, to Grafton 
Street, emerging from Boolcourth's 
with an unwieldy array of parcels, but 
flushed and happy. The shop assist- 
ants came to know her and decided 
she had a curious taste in collecting 
hobbies, for no breakages or burns 




could account for all the purchases 
Miss Manning made. 

There was never such a collection of 
soiled crockery and burnt and milk- 
bespattered saucepans as found their 
way into a big straw clothes basket in 
the expectation that one day some 
member of the charing class could be 
called in to wash up. 

Another ingenious plan which Miss 
Manning found useful to circumvent 
the inroads of wear and tear, the dis- 
order of dirt and dust, was to move 
from one room to another. One week 
she camped in the kitchen, next she 
retired from the scene of confusion 
old newspapers, odds and scraps from 
her sewing and cutting out, soiled 
milk bottles, handkerchiefs, stained 
table cloth, brown paper bags, empty 
tins, all the things which Miss Man- 
ning could not bring herself to throw 
away and started life afresh and 
comparatively unencumbered in the 
drawing room. From here she moved 
to the room used by her late brother 
as a study, from there to the front 
spare bedroom, through whose win- 
dows she could command a great view 
of the street. She was sipping bread 
and milk and sugar happily in the 
large old-fashioned bathroom, now 
furnished with a cane chair and one 
of those small tables with which hap- 
pily the house in Richmond Road was 
well equipped, when Mrs. Beckett ar- 
rived on the scene. 

Mrs. Beckett's conscience would 
hardly have allowed her to stop so 
long away had it not been that she and 
her family had taken their summer 
holiday early, spending it as far away 
as Bournemouth in the South of Eng- 

land; from this pleasant resort she had 
sent her aunt a colored postcard once 
every week, on which she had scrib- 
bled pleasant and encouraging mes- 
sages. Miss Manning had torn these 
postcards up into the smallest possible 
pieces, and then disposed them in the 
dust-bin with some rite of formality. 

It would be better to draw a veil 
over the pain Mrs. Beckett experi- 
enced as, passing from room to room, 
she viewed the scenes of disorder and 
destruction. No battle field strewn 
with corpses and the signs of fearful 
carnage could have caused her more 
agony. The last straw was the dis- 
covery of the clothes basket, whose 
contents had now overspread their 
boundaries and lay sprawled in all 
their naked shame round and about. 

When Mrs. Beckett returned to the 
bathroom, she said, trying to keep her 
voice steady: 

'You might at least have washed 
up. Aunt Sara.' 

'It will all be seen to, but I've been 
very busy.' 

'Busy! But you've done nothing. 
Nothing!!!' Mrs. Beckett wrung her 
hands when she uttered the last word. 

Miss Manning considered it as well 
to keep silent. She knew herself that 
her time had been well and truly oc- 
cupied. There was her morning walk 
in the park; there were her twice 
weekly trips to Grafton Street, where 
she would also take a cup of coffee or 
tea. In fine weather there were the 
hours spent on her front porch, bowing 
with affability to Mrs. Clancy or any 
other person who passed, and whose 
face looked pleasing to her. Or sitting 
in her back garden where scraps of 
conversation often came to her ears, 
to be fitted into stranger stories than 
would have been believed by the mat- 




ter-of-fact speakers. There was the 
collection of interesting and odd cut- 
tings from the Irish Times to be kept 
up to date, pasted into a book, and 
commented upon. There were her 
Saturday and Wednesday conversa- 
tions with the organ grinder, who 
would commiserate with her upon the 
passing of the good old days when the 
gentry used to think nothing of giving 
him sixpences and shillings. There was 
the task of counting the hairs of her 
head, which proceeded very slowly, 
owing to the difficulty of remembering 
where she had left off. Also she read 
occasionally, but not often, for her 
own imagination was too distracting 
for her to possess much patience for 
the figments of other people. 

'Someone will have to clean up,' 
said Mrs. Beckett, voicing the obvious 
drearily. Then in a stronger voice, 
*And someone will have to stay with 

This time she won the battle. Per- 
haps it could hardly be called a battle, 
for in that case the odds would have 
been against her winning. Indeed 
Miss Manning herself saw that some- 
thing should be done. She was almost 
in the position of having nowhere to 
lay her head. Also she was conscious 
that in due time the cold weather 
would arrive. Fires would have to be 
lit; she did not see herself toiling with 
the old-fashioned kitchen range. 


While a pale, resigned-looking, mid- 
dle-aged woman, installed after long 
search by Mrs. Beckett, labored from 
morning to evening to bring order out 
of chaos. Miss Manning decided she 
had better commit herself to the safe 
and aloof harbor of her bed. Like 

Tennyson's Lotus Eaters, she lay re- 
clined, listening to the music of *a 
doleful song steaming up, a lamenta- 
tion and an ancient tale of wrong* 
manifested in the thud thud of broom 
and the clash of crockery from down- 

But in this world Lotus Eaters are 
accorded but scant patience. When 
the handmaiden, Mrs. Cox, had com- 
pleted her Herculean labor, when the 
daily round started afresh, she made 
complaint to Mrs. Beckett that Miss 
Manning would not get up. 

'But she keeps ringing and ringing 
and ringing her bell. And what with 
carrying up her meals, and answering 
her, and bringing the trays down- 
stairs again, I'm worn out. If she was 
sick it would be another matter, but 
glory be to God I wish I could feel 
half as well and half as strong as her- 

Expostulated with. Miss Manning 
agreed that she would rise and survey 
the downstairs world. But, for all 
that, it was not long before Mrs. Cox 
came to Mrs. Beckett a second time, 
on this occasion handing in her no- 

'You prepared me for her being a 
trifle queer like, and for me to take 
no notice, but just go on with my 
work. And so I would for I do be sorry 
for people that are soft in their heads 
having had other experience of that 
same as you know. 

'But a lady that stays in bed all 
day to descend at odd whiles to tell 
me that I'm not doing my work, or in- 
sisting on having a fire lit in the draw- 
ing-room at ten o'clock at night, or 
urging me to take something called 
Harlene for my hair. . . . "You are in 
bad need of a tonic, and you should 
do something for your feet, corns, or 




whatever it is that makes you tread so 
heavy," says she to me standing there 
quiet like, and other pieces of im- 
pertinence that Fd not like to be re- 
peating, but more than self-respecting 
flesh and blood can stand. She's one 
that you never know what she'll be 
doing or where she'll be, and I'd have 
heart failure maybe and drop down 
dead if I stayed longer than this day 

Mrs. Beckett sighed. It was obvious 
that Something Must Be Done. She 
went down on her knees almost to 
Mrs. Cox to stay a few days longer; 
she interviewed various people; she 
wrote various letters. Then with quak- 
ing heart she came to Miss Manning 
and suggested to her that since her 
health wasn't good, wouldn't she be 
better in a nice sort of convalescent 
home where she would be waited on 
hand and foot, where she'd be given 
the best of everything, where there'd 
be plenty of congenial company for 
her.? In ecstatic terms she told of such 
a place, outside Dublin, sea and 
mountain air, the grandest surround- 
ings ... 

Miss Manning listened. She said, 
'What will happen to my house.?' 

*We think if it were sold it would 
bring in about fifteen hundred pounds. 
Say another five hundred nearly for 
the furniture. That would be nearly 
two thousand to buy a small annuity 
to make you more comfortable.' 

Miss Manning plunged into deep 

thought while Mrs. Beckett almost 
held her breath. She investigated her 
spirit, and found that it was in un- 
conquerable order. She was well able, 
as the Irish expression has it. She was 
well able for further worlds to con- 
quer. She said, 'Well, I was always 
one for a change. So I'll go and see 
this place you speak of so highly.' 

Miss Manning came and saw and 
conquered. She knew that she would 
conquer as soon as she saw the matron, 
a quiet, gently-spoken woman with 
the worried preoccupied expression of 
those who have to do rather more and 
rather different work than they were 
intended for by nature. Miss Manning 
said to her graciously: 

' I shall be able to help you to look 
after the other patients, since I have 
natural gifts for organization.' 

'That will be very nice,' said the 
matron, for she knew that those who 
were well, not quite, had to be hu- 
mored, that is to say if they were pay- 
ing patients. 

But the stern set of Miss Manning's 
erect back as she sat in the car on her 
homeward journey caused her to 
think with misgiving: 'I doubt but 
that that one will be a difficult hand- 

In which premonition she was cor- 
rect. For of herself what Miss Man- 
ning said was true, 'I've always been 
well able for anybody and everybody, 
and why wouldn't I have my own 
ideas of things and keep to them ? ' 

The Economist analyzes one of England's 
largest and busiest industries today. 

Betting Business 

From the Economist 
London Financial Weekly 

OINCE Mr. R. J. Russell M.P. 
secured a place, in February's House 
of Commons ballot for Private Mem- 
bers* Bills, for a measure dealing with 
off-the-course betting and football 
pools, widespread public attention has 
been drawn to the commercial organ- 
ization and social implications of one 
of the oldest and most widespread of 
British 'industries.' A representative 
deputation laid its views before the 
Home Secretary early in the month, 
and a fortnight later it was announced 
that the Football League had decided 
completely to revise its fixtures and to 
postpone the announcement of each 
Saturday's program until approxi- 
mately thirty-six hours before club 
matches were due to start, in order to 
curb the activities of the 'Pool' 
promoters. The reasons for this deci- 
sion and the precise means by which 
it will be enforced are not clear as we 
write. What is clear, however, is that 
the betting question, which is never 
out of the news for long, has come 
once again into the limelight and in 

a form that reveals amazingly wide- 
spread ramifications. What are the 
dimensions of this great new industry? 

From the middle to the end of the 
nineteenth century betting was con- 
cerned almost entirely with horse 
racing. The growth of the street book- 
maker and the popularization of 
betting among the working classes are 
the outstanding features of this period. 
By the beginning of the present 
century betting on football began to 
make its appearance; but it is only 
since the War, with the introduction 
of greyhound racing and of the 
* totalizator,' or pari-mutuel principle 
of betting, that gambling by the 
masses has reached its present volume. 
Today betting on horse racing prob- 
ably still represents the greater pro- 
portion of the total turnover, though 
its proportionate importance has lately 
been declining. 

Thirteen years ago representatives 
of bookmakers' organizations esti- 
mated the volume of ' course ' betting 
on horse racing at approximately 25 



millions per annum, and 'office credit' 
betting at starting prices was then 
estimated at 64 millions per annum. 
That these figures were under-esti- 
mates was shown by the finding of 
the Royal Commission of 1932 that 
between November, 1927, and Octo- 
ber, 1928, when the betting tax (aban- 
doned in 1929) was in force, duty was 
paid on a turnover of 45 millions of 
'course' betting. Actually, in 1927-28 
and 1928-29, tax was paid on an 
annual turnover of about 90 millions, 
fairly equally divided between * course ' 
and 'office' betting; but it is believed 
that as much as 50 per cent of the total 
turnover succeeded in evading tax. A 
House of Commons Select Committee 
in 1923 estimated the bookmakers' 
legal turnover at not less than 200 
millions, and the Racecourse Betting 
Control Board in 1929 put the total at 
230 millions; and these figures were 
probably not very wide of the mark. 
It is unlikely that legal betting on 
horse racing has subsequently in- 
creased, but 'ready money' betting, 
in amounts of a few pence to half-a- 
crown, has grown in popularity. On a 
conservative basis the total current 
turnover of betting on horse racing 
may be put at 250 to 300 millions 
a year. 

The volume of betting on grey- 
hound racing is more difficult to 
compute. It was stated before the 
Royal Commission in 1932 that the 
gross annual turnover of the totaliza- 
tors on the fifty tracks affiliated to the 
National Greyhound Racing Associa- 
tion was approximately 8 millions. 
The total number of tracks in opera- 
tion is now probably between 250 and 
300. There is no central control 
of totalizators on greyhound racing 
courses, and no particulars of their 

turnover have yet been made public. 
It is believed that the proportion of 
betting handled by the totalizator 
is higher than in the case of horse 
racing, and that the existence of 
totalizator facilities on greyhound 
tracks has attracted many customers 
who formerly did not bet at all. 
Totalizator betting on the National 
Greyhound Racing Association's 50 
tracks in 1932 probably represented 
about half the total betting on these 
tracks. Subsequently, racing on li- 
censed tracks has been restricted to 
104 days in the year. All things 
considered, we may very tentatively 
put the total turnover on greyhound 
racing, including the turnover of 
bookmakers, at not less than 50 
millions per annum. 

Much the most striking develop- 
ment in recent years has been the 
growth of football betting. In 1934 an 
Act was passed making illegal the 
conduct through a newspaper of any 
competition in which prizes were 
offered for 'forecasts' of future events 
or past events whose outcome had 
not been disclosed, or, generally, for 
any judgment not requiring a substan- 
tial exercise of skill. This Act con- 
firmed the decision reached in the 
Sheffield Telegraph case of 1928, when 
newspaper football competitions were 
declared illegal under the Ready 
Money Football Betting Act of 1920. 
The promoters of football ' pools ' and 
the bookmakers have proceeded to 
occupy the ground thus compulsorily 


The ' national ' pool promoters have 
their headquarters mainly in Liver- 
pool and Edinburgh. In some cases 
they employ a weekend clerical staff 





of 1,500 to 2,000 in large and expen- 
sive offices, for coupon-checking pur- 
poses. The rise in 'pool' betting has 
been meteoric; 'dividends' of thou- 
sands of pounds for a penny, pro- 
claimed by all the resources of modern 
publicity, including wireless programs 
from the Continent, have had an 
irresistible appeal to many persons 
who have never seen a bookmaker in 
their lives. Although the pools, legally, 
are credit betting agencies, and allow 
no money to be posted until matches 
have been played, their operations are 
indistinguishable, in practice, from 
ready money betting. Most promoters 
insist on remittance of stakes, 'win or 
lose,' give very low credit limits, and 
take no bets until the previous week's 
engagements have been settled. 

In 1934 the Football Pools Pro- 
moters' Association declared officially 
that their yearly turnover was 8 
millions. Today, the largest firms 
regularly distribute from 12,000 to 
(occasionally) 25,000 per week from 
their 'Penny Pools' alone. In Septem- 
ber, October and November last year, 
according to figures collected by 
the National Anti-Gambling League, 
nearly 70 million packages of corre- 
spondence were collected from pool 
promoters' premises, by special ar- 
rangement with the Post Office, in 
seven cities outside London some 95 
per cent of the whole coming from 
Liverpool and Edinburgh. Many of 
these packages, no doubt, contained 
advertising material, but many in- 
cluded coupons for distribution by 
agents on commission. 

It would appear that about 5.50 
million people were betting each week 
in pools organized from these seven 
cities. An average number of pool bets 
of 8 millions per week for the thirty- 

six weeks of the football season, rising, 
say, to 10 or 12 millions at peak pe- 
riods, would probably not be too high 
an estimate for the whole country. As 
the average stake per coupon appears 
to be about two shillings, the present 
turnover on football betting cannot 
fall far short of 800,000 per week, or 
30 millions per year, at the present 
rate. As the corresponding figure for 
1933-34 was reliably estimated in the 
House of Commons at 250,000 per 
week, the rapidity of the growth of the 
practice in the last two years may be 
readily appreciated. 

This impression is borne out by the 
returns of sales of postal orders of low 
denominations, i.e. from 6d. to 2s. 6d. 
These have increased from 34,500,000 
in 1925-26 to 85,500,000 in 1933-34. 
Six-penny postal orders alone have 
increased from 3.7 millions in 1924-25 
to 22.3 millions in 1 933-34, and shilling 
postal orders from 8.2 milHons to 24.4 
millions. These figures, of course, 
include newspaper competition entries 
of various sorts, as well as 'normal' 
public purchases. Since November 
I last, the Post Office has made up 
postal orders in books of twelve, which 
can be bought for a reduced poundage 
and are available for six instead of 
three months. 

There are many minor branches of 
the gambling 'industry.' Subscriptions 
to the Irish Hospitals Sweepstake 
totaled about 10 millions per year at 
their peak period. Of these, about 
IS. 4d. in each los. ultimately found 
its way to the Irish hospitals. Entries 
for newspaper competitions were esti- 
mated by the Secretary to the Post 
Office at 3,000,000. Amounts 'in- 
vested' in automatic gambling ma- 
chines in clubs, cafes and amusement 
parks have been put at about 4 




weekly per unit, or 15 millions per 
year. These minor forms of gambling, 
however, are probably declining in 
importance owing to the attentions of 
the poHce. If their estimated totals be 
added to those for horse racing, grey- 
hound racing and football, the total 
annual betting turnover would seem 
to be not less than 350 to 400 

^ millions, and possibly more than 500 
millions. The 'velocity of circulation' 
of funds 'invested' in the industry, 
however, is very great. 


So much for total turnover of one 
of Britain's largest industries. We may 
now proceed to ask what return the 
industry offers to those who conduct 
its operations? The available evidence 
is fairly comprehensive and highly 

The Chairman of a Select Committee 
in 1923 estimated that the office credit 
bookmaker's commission amounted to 
% to I per cent on the amount staked; 
while the course bookmaker worked on 
a margin of 2 per cent, and street 
bookmakers paid out 5 to 7 per cent 
in commission to agents. The Race- 
course Betting Control Board takes 
nominally 10 per cent, effectively 
between 1 1 per cent and 12 per cent of 
the amounts invested in the totaliza- 
tor. Comparison of the odds returned 
by the totalizator and the starting 
prices of bookmakers shows that the 
bookmakers' gross margin cannot be 
much less than this. Most of the foot- 
ball pool promoters employ their peak 
staffs only at weekends for wages of 
15s. or 1 per day. Their share of the 
pool varies from 5 per cent to 20 per 
cent, plus 'minimum expenses.' The 
accountants' certificates which are 

published in some cases refer only to 
the division of proceeds, after com- 
mission and expenses have been de- 
ducted. One pool promoter, prose- 
cuted in Edinburgh in 1930, was 
found to be taking a total commission 
of 77 per cent; another, prosecuted in 
January, 1934, took out 31 per cent. 
The Football Pool Promoters' Asso- 
ciation claims to limit the profit of its 
members to 5 per cent of the total 
income, but it is not clear how much 
of the total activity is within its 
control. In January, 1935, it named 
only six firms as its members, all 
having addresses in or around Liver- 
pool, while it now appears to control 
about a dozen. Even if the clear profit 
of the promoter is limited to 5 per cent, 
the deduction of ' expenses ' (including 
commission and advertising) may 
limit the divisible pool to less than 50 
per cent of the total subscribed. 

We may, therefore, for purposes of 
computation, put a.) the expenses 
and profits of bookmakers at approxi- 
mately 10 per cent to 12 per cent of 
the amounts staked on horse and grey- 
hound racing (though the margin may 
have been reduced in recent years); 
b.) the total 'rake-off' of football pool 
promoters (including 'minimum ex- 
penses') at not less than 30 per cent of 
the amounts staked; and c.) the rate 
of profit to the promoters of the minor 
forms of gambling at a much higher 
figure certainly not less than 50 per 
cent. On these bases, we may conclude 
that the total remuneration and 
expenses of the betting and gambling 
industry are unlikely to be lower than 
40 to 45 millions per annum, or 
50 millions, including all other forms 
of gambling. 

The dimensions of the industry's 
'labor force' are a matter for broad 



conjecture. In 1923 the Assistant 
Commissioner of Police put the num- 
ber of bookmakers, including prin- 
cipals only, in the Metropolitan area 
at 1,750. A similar estimate by the 
Chief Constable was 698 for the 
Liverpool area. The Secretary of 
the National Sporting League put the 
total number at 16,000. In 1928 there 
were 14,000 licensed bookmakers and 
many others who remained unregis- 
tered. The total today is probably not 
much below 20,000. In 1923 the total 
of clerks, outlookers, runners and 
agents appears to have averaged, in 
London, some 2.3 to each principal. 
If this proportion applies in the 
country as a whole, there may there- 
fore be as many as 66,000 persons 
directly dependent upon bookmaking 
at the present time. The numbers 
connected with street betting are 
larger, but much of this business is 
done through agents working on a 
commission basis in shops and fac- 

The pool promoters are accustomed 
to engage large numbers of workers to 
deal with incoming correspondence 
every weekend. Some of the larger 
Liverpool and Edinburgh firms take 
on as many as 500 to 800 assistants 
every Saturday night. In many cases 
the permanent staff is from one-third 
to a half of the peak staff. Altogether 
it might not be an exaggeration to 
assess this demand at the equivalent 
o( full employment for 5,000 persons 
in the course of a year. No estimate 
whatever can be made of the numbers 
or remuneration of the cloud of wit- 

nesses touts, tipsters, racmg jour- 
nalists, publishers of sporting news- 
papers and, most incredible of all, the 
competition press and its attendant 
'professional solutionists' who regu- 
larly exercise their prophetic talents, 
for a suitable return, on behalf of 
mortals who wrestle with the law of 
averages. Nor can we assess the 
'derived demand' of the industry for 
the materials and services of other 
trades. One Liverpool pool promoter 
is credited with the consumption of 
twelve tons of paper per week. Some 
printing firms specialize in betting 
tickets, coupons and advertising mate- 
rial. Horse racing is an important 
customer of the railways, and all 
forms of betting contribute hand- 
somely to the Post Office revenue. 

Into the social and moral aspects of 
the betting question we do not pro- 
pose, here, to enter. It is clear, how- 
ever, that an industry of the size and 
scope we have indicated holds a 
formidable vested interest in the com- 
mercial exploitation of one of the less 
progressive of human instincts. Resist- 
ance to any attempt significantly to 
control its operations may be propor- 
tionately strong. In view, however, of 
the tendency for betting to increase 
with the growth of its organized 
facilities, the Government may well 
consider whether the time has not 
come to enforce a stricter supervision 
and to ensure that commercialized 
exploitation of human folly or of 
'the small man's' reaction against a 
drab environment shall not yield 
unduly large 'professional' profits. 


An Englishman Finds Fault 

I Writing in the Manchester Guard- 
ian^ English Liberal daily, Mr. Ronald 
Davison surveys our American schemes 
for attaining 'social security,' and, on 
the basis of English experience along 
the same lines, points to faults and 
suggests improvements: 

Last summer President Roosevelt wrung 
from the seventy-fourth Congress a meas- 
ure which is likely to have a more lasting 
effect upon American institutions than all 
the rest of the New Deal. The Social Se- 
curity Act is probably the most compre- 
hensive piece of social legislation that the 
world has ever seen. In effect the Act falls 
into three categories: 

1. It sets up a centralized Federal con- 
tributory old-age pension insurance for 
over 20,000,000 wage-earners. 

2. It creates a financial inducement to 
the forty-eight states to set up their own 
unemployment insurance schemes, fi- 
nanced by compulsory levies upon em- 

3. It offers six new kinds of Federal 
grants-in-aid to states, which set up ade- 
quate services for public health, for the 
aged poor, and for mothers and children. 

At the moment the real trouble lies with 
the two vast schemes of social insurance 
guaranteeing contractual payments for 
old-age pensions and for unemployment 
benefits. Here the United States is on new 
ground, which is unfamiliar in the highest 
degree. For many years she has observed 
our British social insurances and those of 
Germany with mingled envy and doubt. 
Now at last she is taking the plunge. 

To British eyes the proposed Federal 
pensions seem to be ambitious. In return 
for 6 per cent tax on wages (only 2 per 
cent in the first year, 1937) a weekly an- 
nuity varying from los. to 4 5s. is to be 

payable from age sixty-five to death. 
Within these limits pensions are to be 
calculated (like contributions) as an exact 
percentage of the claimant's average 
wages. Workers and employers are to 
begin contributing in January, 1937, but 
no benefits are payable until 1942. 

This delay is a serious political handi- 
cap, and, on British precedents, a needless 
one, seeing that in 1926 our Conservative 
Government paid old-age and widows' 
benefits on the day after contributions 
first became due. Admittedly that meant 
non-contributory pensions to the earliest 
claimants, and our Exchequer is still 
paying off the debt; but President Roose- 
velt could well have done the same. 

One good feature is that the American 
pensions will be conditional on retirement 
from regular wage-earning. A less good fea- 
ture is that in basing pensions on the per- 
centage of average wages the Act sets the 
Social Security Board a fearsome task 
either of current record-keeping or of ar- 
chaeological research after 1942 into the 
employment histories of claimants. 

It is, of course, possible that under the 
American Constitution that lethal an- 
achronism, the Supreme Court, may frus- 
trate the whole of this courageous effort to 
place a vital piece of social machinery on a 
Federal and nationwide basis. Time alone 
can show. 

There is to be no national unemploy- 
ment insurance system in the United 
States. Under the Social Security Act 
each state is urged to set up its own plan, 
but not compelled to do so. It is unlikely 
that all the states will move in the matter; 
but the penalty of inaction will be that 
employers in an inactive state will have to 
pay an excise tax on their pay-rolls to the 
Federal Treasury amounting to about the 
same figure as the state insurance con- 
tribution, yet the state will get nothing in 
return. This Federal excise tax is now 




being collected, and in due course the 
active and virtuous states will be entitled 
to a refund of 90 per cent of it, together 
with a grant in aid of their administrative 

Wisconsin already had a company re- 
serves scheme of its own that is, a sep- 
arate insurance account for each employer 
and ten other states have so far re- 
sponded with new Acts. The Social Se- 
curity Board's present task is to persuade 
the states to conform either to the Wis- 
consin pattern, with no pooling of risks 
between employers, or to the pooled in- 
surance plan on European lines. 

Model bills, with various optional 
clauses, are being issued from Washington 
for their guidance. In these bills the mini- 
mum 'coverage' is to be 'all employers 
of eight or more persons for twenty weeks 
in a year,* agriculture, domestic service, 
and non-profit institutions being excepted. 
Even in the pooled plan there is to be 
a rather mystical 'merit rating,' under 
which employers with a small labor turn- 
over will pay a lesser tax than those with a 
large turnover. The American mind is, 
indeed, beset by the idea that 'merit rat- 
ing' or the Wisconsin plan will persuade 
employers to stabilize their employment 
and will, in any case, make the punish- 
ment fit the crime. 

In our British scheme that idea has been 
tried and abandoned. W^hether it will 
work in the United States is exceedingly 
doubtful, having regard to the unavoid- 
able fluctuations and excessive seasonality 
of many businesses for instance, the 
building trades. The test will only come 
some time after January, 1938, when 
benefits begin to be payable. 

The doctrine in the States today is that 
the rate of a man's wages should deter- 
mine his benefits; there are to be no de- 
pendants' allowances, but he should have 
50 per cent of his full-time wages for at 
least twelve weeks of unemployment, 
with a minimum benefit of 1 and a maxi- 
mum of 3 per week. And the United 
States thinks that, on the whole, the 

European system of requiring employee 
contributions is a mistake. The separate 
states are, however, going diflPerent ways 
about this, and some schemes will require 
I per cent of weekly earnings from work- 

RECIPROCITY of benefit between states 
is not yet cpntemplated; it is too baffling 
a problem. To the English mind this at 
once suggests forebodings. How can 
forty-eight diflferent systems of insurance 
be applied within a single country to a 
comparatively mobile labor force? In- 
evitably there must be much movement 
across state frontiers among workers in 
businesses employing eight or more per- 
sons. However, such is the respect for 
state rights and resignation to the con- 
sequences that only one major inter-state 
industry has so far revolted. Already the 
railway companies and brotherhoods are 
promoting a new bill for a special Federal 
system of insurance for themselves and 
for other carriers by road, water, and air. 
The Social Security Board are to adminis- 
ter this separate transportation scheme. 

Two other major difficulties confronting 
the board may be briefly mentioned. One 
is that the employment exchange service 
is not under their control. It is a separate 
Federal State organism, supervised and 
given grants-in-aid by the Department of 
Labor, and it is acutely anxious that its 
proper business of placement should not 
be submerged by the onrush of insurance 
functions. The Government are, however, 
doing their best to cope with this threat- 
ened dualism. 

The second problem is: How will the 
diflPerent authorities ascertain what has 
been the average full-time rate of wages 
of claimants who have worked for, say, 
ten or even twenty diflPerent firms during 
the preceding two or five years? All his 
jobs will have to be taken into account 
in determining the rate and duration of a 
man's benefit. 

So far the idea has been to wait till the 
claims come in and then to make the 




necessary researches into each claimant's 
past record. Meanwhile employers are 
bidden to keep precise accounts of wages 
and hours. The alternative of requiring 
every employer of eight persons or more 
to send in to the State Insurance Commis- 
sion monthly lists of wages and hours is 
theoretically sound, but it does not look 
attractive to those who will have to en- 
force it upon a community of wild and 
untamed employers. 

The fact is that there is too much theory 
and wishful thinking in all these varieties 
of the American plan. If ever there was a 
country that could only hope to adminis- 
ter unemployment insurance on the sim- 
plest possible lines, that country is the 
United States today. Above all, they 
might have been content with a uniform 
and flat rate of benefits. Indeed, many 
Americans have always admitted as much. 
True, they would probably have had to 
add dependants' allowances, but these are 
far easier to administer than the wage- 
percentage system. In any case, it is well 
to remember that for years to come the 
United States will have some millions of 
unemployed, most of whom will be in 
need of assistance, outside any State in- 
surance schemes which may now be set up. 

Heil Lincoln! 

Krieger, publishes an article about 
'race problems in the United States' 
in Die Tat, German National Socialist 
monthly. He makes an attempt to 
apply Nazi racial ideology to the 
United States, one of the few coun- 
tries, he claims, to have developed 
anything approaching the concept of 
race law. He regards the dominant 
race in the United States as 'Ger- 
manic,' living in troublesome symbio- 
sis with colored races, which consti- 
tute one-ninth of the population. 
Krieger states that Lincoln was 'far 
removed from the sentimental idea of 

equality with which his name has time 
and again been falsely coupled,' and 
'often and vigorously supported the 
expulsion of the Negroes from the 
United States.' He then pleads for the 
adoption of a realistic race law: 

Not until the Germanic racial con- 
sciousness of the true American has freed 
itself of the crushing burden of ideology 
will the way to racial salvation be cleared. 
He will then solve the racial division in his 
life and in his law by means of a new racial 
concept. In particular he will be able to 
tackle the task of building up an honest 
race law, logically coherent and guided by 
large viewpoints. At present the task ap- 
pears to be far from solution. Visitors to 
the United States whose instincts have 
not been adulterated are stirred and 
deeply revolted by the form which racial 
co-existence has taken, especially in the 
great cities of the East. . . . 

Considering the legal premises, we 
arrive at the following three chief aims 
for the future: 

First and most important: the ideology 
of racial equality must be relinquished. 
In particular there must never be, not 
even in theory, legal equality between 
Nordics and Negroes. 

Second: the Fourteenth and Fifteenth 
Amendments to the Constitution must be 
repealed. This would lead to the dis- 
franchisement of the Negroes and do 
away with all enforcement legislation. 
The several states would again be free to 
formulate racial legislation according to 
their own needs, which would be of 
particular value to the Southern States 
with their large Negro population. 

Third: Lincoln's plans for expulsion 
should be taken up again and gradually 

The promising manner in which Ger- 
many is attempting broadly and finally to 
liquidate centuries of racial mixture un- 
doubtedly will in due time attract notice 
in America. But if America continues to 
drift along her present racial course, she 



must inevitably, despite all existing legal 
defenses, some day be forced to abandon 
calling herself a Germanic nation . . . 
It is understandable that the underminers 
of the American Nation's Germanic char- 
acter are fanatically at work inculcating 
into Americans the paralyzing ideology of 
racial equality. The Jews, with an ex- 
emplary instinct for their own welfare, 
here, too, are in the van. With the help of 
great financial and propaganda resources 
they distort and abuse in their well- 
known ways the great ideals of democracy 
in order to kill the racial strength of the 
prevailing race at the root. 

It is not 'white' and 'colored' that 
actually oppose each other in the United 
States today; it is the Germanic race, left 
entirely to its own resources, which is 
meeting all other races. These latter are 
either indifferent to the fate of America, or 
they are merely concerned with drawing to 
themselves as much power as possible, 
wresting it from the original Germanic 
population which showed them the way 
into the wilderness that was to become 

As racial comrades we Germans hope 
and wish that Germanic America will in- 
creasingly find its way back to the princi- 
ples of its great statesmen, Washington, 
Jefferson and Lincoln, who were worlds 
removed from the liberalistic idea of racial 
equality. Moreover, we hope that there 
may arise in America the new political 
leaders who are needed for the solution of 
its task, now grown to world historical 

In Single Combat 

A STAFF-WRITER of the Journal 
de Geneve allows himself to grow both 
fanciful and philosophical on the sub- 
ject of American motoring fatalities: 

Before the war, when two gentlemen 
had tread upon one another's toes and had 
called one another imbeciles, they would 
don frock coats at daybreak, comb their 

hair with great care, turn up their collars, 
stand twenty-five paces from one another, 
and in the presence of four witnesses, a 
doctor, a referee, and some frightened 
sparrows would each pull the trigger of 
their pistols. 

Today the Americans do better. They 
undoubtedly despise these out-dated 
games of bullet-holes, for, if one is to be- 
lieve the Petit Bleu, they have discovered 
a new way of reviving a style which was 
feeling its age. 

At Denver, in Colorado, two citizens 
who had found it impossible to agree on 
some point, I don't know what, chose 
automobiles as their weapons. 

On a good straight road they drove 
their cars to two points several hundred 
meters removed from one another. Then, 
at a signal, they charged, dashing at full 
speed toward one another, their hands 
glued to the steering wheels, their feet on 
the accelerators, hood against hood. 
Boom 1 

At the dreadful crash the two twisted 
autos tumbled into a heap of scrap iron. 
The spectators expected to have to mop 
up the champions with blotting paper. 
But not at all: they picked themselves up, 
a little stunned, but unhurt. So that two 
fireballs had been exchanged without re- 
sult. Except that a policeman who 
thought they had violated the traffic laws 
issued summonses to the two automo- 

We wish that this little story were true, 
if only to draw the moral of it. The auto- 
mobile is the cause of tens of thousands of 
deaths in the United State every year 
deaths of honest folk who were going 
peaceably to their little businesses, and 
who were cut down by individuals in a 
greater hurry to get to theirs. But when 
two idiots deliberately decide to smash 
one another to pulp, they are not allowed 
to do so. Men are masters of their steering 
wheels, but not of their destinies, and if 
they hold the levers, it is the levers which 
control them. 

A part de cela, Madame la Marquise. . . . 


History of England 

England, i 870-1914. By R. C. Ensor. 
Oxford: Oxford University Press. 1936. 

(Harold Laski in the New Statesman and Nation, 

npHIS is the second volume in the Ox- 
ford History of England, and it is a 
work of quite outstanding merit. Solid, 
written in an interesting and at times 
distinguished style, based on an astonish- 
ingly thorough survey of the materials, it 
is the annalistic type of history at its best. 
There is little that Mr. Ensor omits, and 
there are certain phases of the develop- 
ment he records, upon which his account 
is better than in any other similar volume. 
On army reform, on constitutional change, 
on local government, he gives a masterly 
summary of the complicated issues. As a 
narrator, moreover, Mr. Ensor holds the 
reader's attention throughout. It will be 
long before this volume can, so far as its 
type is concerned, surrender the primacy 
it at once establishes. 

It is important to realize just what the 
type is. Mr. Ensor is profoundly inter- 
ested in men his brief character-sketches 
are admirable he is interested in insti- 
tutions, and he summarizes a complex 
economic development with real skill. 
What he does not seek to establish is a 
canon for the period a philosophic 
criterion by which its general character 
may be estimated. He is not, indeed, 
afraid to make judgments. Broadly, he 
writes from the angle of a Liberal of the 
Left, and from that angle his analysis of 
the controversial issues with which he 
has to deal are always fair and solidly 
founded. But he has not brought on to 
any single plane the vast narrative he has 
constructed. It is now clear, for instance, 
that the movement towards a coalition 
government sponsored by Mr. Lloyd 

George during the Home Rule con- 
troversy pointed to much deeper things 
than appeared obvious at the time. So, 
also, the support of the South African 
War by the leaders of the Fabian Society 
has its bearing upon the inability of the 
Labor Party today squarely to meet the 
issue of imperialism. The failure of Mr. 
Gladstone to interest himself in local gov- 
ernment reform was unfortunate; but it 
was not, I think, half so serious as Mr. 
Asquith's inability to see the significance 
of the industrial upheavals of 1911-12. 

Mr. Ensor comments with skill on such 
social theories as those of T. H. Green 
and the Fabians. But he has nothing to 
say of F. W. Maitland, not only, perhaps, 
the greatest English historian since Gib- 
bon but also the most significant politi- 
cal theorist of his generation. It is a pity, 
too, that his analysis of colonial and for- 
eign policy takes no account of what men 
like Mr. J. A. Hobson and Mr. H. N. 
Brailsford were writing in these years; 
the prophetic character of their analysis 
assumes now an importance far greater 
than the attention it received at the 

This absence of a central clue is the 
more regrettable because so much of the 
material collected by Mr. Ensor in his 
economic chapters points towards con- 
clusions one would have liked to see 
judged in its light. The nepotism of Brit- 
ish industrial leadership, the absence of 
outstanding British inventions in this 
period, the connection of this with the 
inadequate standards of technical educa- 
tion in the period, upon all of these, in 
their inter-relationships, there are possi- 
bilities which Mr. Ensor hardly develops. 

So, also, it would have been interesting 
if he had shown the significance of the 
growing literature of scepticism after 1900 
in the contest of the international malaise 
and its repercussions. One would have 




liked to know how far Mr. Ensor sees in 
the constitutional crises he has to record 
the faint precursors of that deeper issue 
which is bound to occur unless political 
parties can discover, as they discovered 
between 1832 and 1914, a unified ap- 
proach to social questions. Mr. Ensor, 
in a word, gives us a narrative from which 
the essential background is lacking. He is 
clear and revealing so far as he goes; but 
he seems to shrink from the task of ex- 
plaining what he has to narrate. 

On the other hand, it is difficult not to 
be enthusiastic over the admirable justice 
Mr. Ensor has rendered to the personal 
interplay of the political drama in these 
years. On Gladstone and Disraeli, on 
Salisbury and Balfour, on Asquith and 
Chamberlain and Lansdowne, he writes 
with a precision of insight which is re- 
markable. It is good to have justice done 
to Sir Robert Morant; and it is comfort- 
ing that Mr. Ensor can write of royal 
personages without that distressing gen- 
uflexion which is now so fashionable. It 
shows how fully Mr. Ensor has read his 
sources that he can remind us (of what 
most people have now forgotten) of the 
asperity with which Lord Hugh Cecil 
criticized the late King over his relation to 
the Parliament Act. 

On the constitutional side, generally, 
Mr. Ensor writes with a balanced judg- 
ment about which there can be no praise 
too high. What one wishes here is that he 
would have told us his view of that com- 
plete lack of restraint shown by the 
Unionist leaders over the Budget of 1909 
and the Home Rule Bill. Does he think it 
exaggeration to say that Toryism in these 
years was prepared to violate the unstated 
premises of our parliamentary system to 
defeat those proposals? If he does, what is 
the inference he draws therefrom ? All the 
way through his book, indeed, one feels 
inclined to ask Mr. Ensor what judgment 
he makes upon the situation he so care- 
fully describes. 

Perhaps he would reply that judgment 
is not his business. But the historian is 

compelled to select; and the very fact of 
selection implies a judgment of itself. Mr. 
Ensor would not, I think, claim that his 
history was devoid of color and personal- 
ity. I wish only that he had told us what 
were the reasons which led him to the 
particular color and personality he has 
woven into the narrative. His work is at 
every point solid; I feel it could have been 
far more illuminating if that solidity was 
flanked by a coherent philosophy. But 
this does not mean that his book is not 
fascinating. It deserves the widest possible 
audience for the high qualities it reveals on 
every page. 

The Two Nations 

Food, Health and Income. By Sir John 
Orr. London: Macmillan and Company. 

(From the Spectator, London) 

TT is more than two generations since 
Sydi/wsLS written, but the Two Nations 
still confront each other. Both, indeed, 
are better off, but the inequalities in their 
income, social status and physical en- 
vironment remain. For a democratic so- 
ciety which has established legal and 
political equality there can be no more 
proper progress than toward the destruc- 
tion of the social inequalities which have 
still to be removed. But the path of prog- 
ress is often illusory and always hard, and 
nothing makes it harder than a lack of ob- 
jective standards by which to direct it. 
They can be discovered only by scientific 
investigation, and in recent years no in- 
crease in knowledge has been more useful 
to society than that contributed by Sir 
John Orr and others in their researches 
into nutrition. The report, Food, Health 
and Income y by Sir John Orr confirms that 
promise. It is the record of an investiga- 
tion carried out by the Rowett Research 
Institute, in cooperation with the Agri- 
cultural Marketing Boards and the Mar- 
ket Supply Committee, into 'the amount 
of food required to maintain the health of 




the community, the extent of malnutrition 
due to under-consumption, and the extent 
to which under-consumption is due to 
poverty.' It is admitted that, at present, 
there are not sufficient data available for 
a final answer to be given; yet already 
conclusions have been reached which no 
statesman or student can ignore. They are 
a criticism of our society and they offer an 
objective at which it should aim. 

The value and significance of the in- 
vestigation are increased by the standard 
of comparison it adopts. For Sir John Orr 
has asked: 'To what extent is the country 
properly nourished, judged by a physio- 
logically ideal standard, that is, a state of 
well-being such that no improvement can 
be effected by a change in diet?' That 
such a question should be worth putting is 
in itself evidence of the possibilities now 
open to us; it is a sign of how far we have 
advanced and of how much we are still 
behind. For the answer is not surprising. 
Dividing the population into six groups, 
with incomes varying from los. to over 
45s. per head per week, with an average 
expenditure on food varying from 4s. to 
14s., the investigation showed that only 
the highest income group completely satis- 
fied all the conditions of the ideal stand- 
ard, while the lowest group satisfied none 
of them. 

It must be noticed that the income 
groups do not correspond exactly with 
class divisions, since the incomes per head 
are calculated by dividing total family in- 
come by the number of members to be 
supported. But the significance of the 
lowest, under-nourished group cannot be 
ignored, for it includes 4>^ million people. 
Worse than that, 50 per cent of them are 
children, and 25 per cent of all the children 
in the country are among them. To bring 
every group up to the level of diet ade- 
quate to full health would require in- 
creases in consumption of milk, eggs, but- 
ter, fruit and vegetables, varying from 12 
per cent to 25 per cent of the total now 
consumed. The table, which represents the 
increases in consumption needed to raise 

the diet of each group to that of the group 
immediately above it, is really a program 
of the stages by which we can advance to- 
wards a society in which every member 
has the nourishment necessary for full 
health. Given modern improvements in 
the technique of food production, there is 
no reason why that standard should not 
be the goal of social policy; it is a wiser 
objective than any which can be achieved 
by modern methods of planning based on 
raising prices and restricting production. 

But the investigation has also corre- 
lated variations in income with the physi- 
cal effects of malnutrition, and though 
exact and complete results are not possi- 
ble, the conclusions show strikingly that 
the members of our society suffer from 
physical as well as economic inequalities. 
Thus, observations made over a period at 
different schools show surprising varia- 
tions in height and health corresponding 
with differences of wealth. A boy of thir- 
teen at Christ's Hospital School is 2.4 
inches taller than a boy of the same age at 
a Council school. At seventeen he is 3.8 
inches taller than an 'employed male' of 
the same class as a Council schoolboy, and 
observations taken at another public 
school reveal the difference as no less than 
5 inches. Further, the variations in height 
correspond to variations in the incidence 
of preventable ill health, and especially of 
rickets, bad teeth, anaemia and tuber- 
culosis. Each of these physical deficiencies 
is most easily remediable by increasing the 
consumption of milk. 

Sir John Orr is careful to point out that, 
for instance, variations in height are to 
some extent hereditary. If that were the 
whole truth, it would seem that the in- 
equalities of the two nations had become 
immutable. But experiments in various 
schools have shown that the actual differ- 
ences in height can be considerably less- 
ened by an increase in nourishment which 
allows children to reach their full stature, 
even though limited by heredity. The ef- 
fects of variation in diet are verified else- 
where. The Masai and Kikuyu tribes live 




under the same climatic and housing con- 
ditions, but have very different diets. The 
Kikuyu are tall and relatively free of dis- 
ease. The Masai are short and suffer from 
rickets, bad teeth, and pulmonary and 
intestinal diseases. With us, the Kikuyu 
and the Masai live side by side. 

These conclusions go far to make non- 
sense of our democratic claim to equality. 
They show how serious are the physio- 
logical handicaps which aggravate eco- 
nomic inequality. But equally they show 
how these handicaps can be destroyed. 
'The new knowledge of nutrition, which 
shows that there can be an enormous im- 
provement in the wealth and physique of 
the nation, coming at the same time as the 
greatly increased powers of producing 
food, has created an entirely new situation 
which demands economic statesmanship.' 
Indeed, the new knowledge is a basis for a 
new social and political program; it would 
intensify the tragedy of our time if, amid 
wars and rumors of wars, statesmen could 
not use its immense contribution to the 
stock of human wisdom. 

Belgian Finances 

La Devaluation du Franc Belge: une 
Operation Delicate Parfaitement 
RussiE. By Professor Fernand Baud- 
huin. Bruxelles-Paris. igjS- 

(From the Economist, London) 

pROFESSOR Baudhuin's book is ex- 
tremely welcome. It is at once vigorous, 
comprehensive and readable. As adviser to 
several Governments and especially Fi- 
nance Ministers in Belgium, the author 
had an exceedingly good opportunity to 
watch the sad sequence of events which 
preceded the devaluation of the belga. It is 
a deplorable tale of self-inflicted distress. 
For months politicians clamored noisily 
about the evils and wickedness of devalua- 
tion, and thereby increased the unreason- 
ing fears of the population and the chances 
that a devaluation would, in fact, lead to 
a panic. Yet the deflationists were unwill- 

ing to face the issue squarely and make 
deflation effective. So the disparity be- 
tween costs and prices increased and de- 
pressed business activity in both domestic 
and exporting industries. 

Professor Baudhuin was not an advo- 
cate of devaluation in the early part of the 
crisis. Belgium had stabilized at a very 
low gold parity, and the world price level 
did not fall below her cost level for a con- 
siderable time. 

In 1934, however, the position became 
critical. Successive Governments, formed 
with the central aim of 'defending the 
belga,' and headed by M. Jaspar, M. de 
Broqueville and finally M. Theunis, were 
unable (and unwilling) to adopt a con- 
structive policy. Professor Baudhuin now 
saw the necessity of devaluation, but his 
warnings fell on deaf ears. The beginning 
of the breakdown of the banking structure 
and continuous losses of gold did not con- 
vince the politicians of the imminence of 
the final crash. M. Theunis believed in the 
possibility of the maintenance of the gold 
parity, even after a far-reaching restric- 
tion of foreign exchange dealings had been 
instituted. Considering the atmosphere in 
Belgium at this juncture, the courage of 
Professor Baudhuin in publicly demand- 
ing devaluation was most highly com- 
mendable. He had already strongly urged 
that the effects of devaluation should not 
be painted in alarmist colors. Finally, af- 
ter almost interminable wrangling and 
face-saving, the van Zeeland Ministry 
took the inevitable step. 

The greater part of Professor Baud- 
huin's book consists of an analysis of the 
effects of devaluation. Nobody can now 
seriously question his view that it was, in 
fact, completely successful. He produces 
statistical material fully suflicient to prove 
his contention. Prices, especially retail 
prices, have not risen seriously the cost 
of living is even now only 8 per cent up. 
Production and railroad traffic soon in- 
creased well above the level of 1934; the 
budget revenue improved immediately 
and markedly; and the rate of interest has 




been forced down, despite the intensifica- 
tion of the international political tension. 
The flight of capital not only ceased but 
was suddenly reversed. The profits de- 
rived from the revaluation of the gold re- 
serve were used to establish an exchange 
equalization account and a fund to con- 
trol the gilt-edged market. Finally, the 
banking structure was thoroughly re- 
organized, at a time when there was an 
automatic increase both in its liquidity 
and the soundness of its assets as a result 
of devaluation. 

Professor Baudhuin makes short shrift 
with those who impute the revival to the 
Brussels World Fair and at the same time 
prevaricatingly insist that no revival 
whatever has taken place. He may be 
somewhat optimistic about the possible 
efi^ects on Belgium of a general devalua- 
tion by the gold countries, but he is right 
in insisting that such a policy would not 
only restore internal equilibrium in those 
countries, but that the improvement in 
their economies would eventually offset 
any initial depressing effects abroad. 

Professor Baudhuin and Mr. van Zee- 
land have both deserved well of their 
country. And in this book Professor 
Baudhuin has presented us with a highly 
interesting record and a complete vindica- 
tion of the policy adopted last March. 

The Merchants of Death 
Les Profits de guerre a travers les 
siECLES. By Richard Lewinsohn. Paris: 
Payot. 1936. 

(Ldon Limon in Europe, Paris) 

\A/^ITH 1936 the capitalist world enters 
the seventh year of economic depres- 
sion, and the kind of prosperity which is 
peculiar to every pre-war period is already 
in evidence: the arms race. Since 1931, 
when the world's total exports of arms 
were estimated at 200 million dollars, 
international tension has been increasing, 
and Mussolini's venture in Ethiopia has 
contributed not a little to heighten it. 
But has the armament industry the 

same interest in war which it had in the 
past? This question, which Richard 
Lewinsohn poses, is not as paradoxical as 
it may at first seem. In his study, which 
is a real contribution to the history of 
the birth and development of modern 
capitalism, Lewinsohn shows that the 
distribution of the profits of war has gone 
through various phases. As military tech- 
nique develops with the means of produc- 
tion, as the State is centralized and bu- 
reaucratized and the 'nation' is born, the 
political and economic independence of 
the top army men decreases in proportion. 
The 'nationalization' of war industries is 
the very opposite of the method of sporad- 
ic confiscation pursued by a Caesar or 
a Churchill-Marlborough. Soon it is the 
business man who is pointing the way for 
the general, and the heads of the armed 
forces become the employees of colonial 
companies. Then the State itself moves 
toward commerce and Industry. Banks 
like the Bank of England are founded, 
whose object is to obtain war and arma- 
ment loans for the State. It Is then the 
bankers who pile up the largest part of 
the profits of war: the Laffittes, the 
Ouvrards, the Rothschilds, and the 

But the war budgets demand larger and 
larger sums, and no banker or banking 
syndicate would be able to raise the needed 
funds. So the State eventually becomes 
its own banker and reduces the printing 
of treasury notes to a system. From this 
time on the great war profiteers are no 
longer either the men who traffic in arms 
or those who finance armaments, but 
rather those who manufacture them: the 
Krupps, the Schneiders, the Skodas, and 
the ZaharoflFs. In almost every industrial 
country of Europe the arms factories are 
the largest enterprises, and more often 
than not it is they which set the pace for 
the others. They are the prototypes of 
finance capitalism, combining, as they do, 
industrial and banking capital. 

Along with these cannon merchants, 
properly so called, one must not forget to 




lump the purveyors of raw materials 
needed in the manufacture of arms and 
munitions, as well as those who furnish 
all the other kinds of war materials: 
the manufacturers of canned goods, of 
cloth for uniforms, the oil companies, etc. 
not forgetting the war speculators, 
notably those who speculate in govern- 
ment issues, and who are very often to be 
found at the very hearts of the govern- 
ments themselves. 

From 1 9 14 to 191 8 the profits of war 
declared by all these merchants of death 
in the belligerent and neutral nations may 
be estimated, according to Lewinsohn, at 
150 billion gold francs! 

But the last war brought out new forms 
of capitalist organization which are also 
the germs of the breakdown of its private 
profit foundations. War is an undertaking 
which now involves the entire nation, and 
the nation demands a similar 'nationaliza- 
tion' of war industries. What is more, the 
outcome of the recourse to war proved 
fatal to the majority of pre-War indus- 
tries. And to this one must also add the 
political risks, of which the Russian 
Revolution is always a living example. 
Today the very form of government is in 

For all these reasons one may wonder 
whether the armament industry still 
wants war as much as ever, at least so 
near home. Rather, it desires an armed 
peace, and permanent tension. The threat 
of war that is what best suits the arma- 
ments business. Manufacturers of arms 
make better profits out of cannons and 
airplanes which are used in manoeuvers and 
are thrown on the scrap heap before they 
have a chance to be used in war itself. 
They profit equally from every improve- 
ment of military technique which brings 
about new arms orders. If they are no 
longer, perhaps, great profiteers of the 
war of the future, they are at least the 
profiteers of * peace-in-danger,' and for 
that they stick at nothing to maintain 
that 'era of fear' which Guehenno has 

In the conclusion of his work, the 
wealth of whose documentation does not 
in any way diminish the pleasure of read- 
ing it, Richard Lewinsohn drops the 
historian's role and becomes the ardent 
pacifist who denounces the evils of the 
enterprises of collective death. Their 
nationalization is certainly in order, 
along with the nationalization of the great 
banks with which they are tied up. 

The Futility of Revolution 

Farewell to Revolution. By Everett 
Dean Martin. With a preface by Lord 
Lothian. London: Routledge. igjS. 

(From the 'Times Literary Supplement, London) 

npHIS is a valuable but difficult book. It 
treats of a double theme. It submits 
that revolution has ended by producing 
the exact opposite of everything it sought 
to achieve a doctrine which accounts 
for the book's title. It submits further 
that the causes of revolution are to be 
sought not in its avowed purposes nor in 
those deeper motives which the Marxians 
profess to detect but in the nature of 
crowd psychology. The two propositions 
are interlocked, and Mr. Martin in fact 
uses each to demonstrate the other; but 
historical analysis and psychological in- 
duction do not run easily in double har- 
ness, particularly when their driver is 
himself neither historian nor psychologist 
but a social philosopher. 

Mr. Martin finds three cycles of revolu- 
tion in European history. The first, which 
began with the Gracchi, though it had a 
Greek prelude, aimed at .equality and 
ended in Caesarism. The second, which 
opened with the Cluniac movement and 
closed with the end of the Thirty Years 
W^ar, sought Christian brotherhood and 
achieved the disruption of the Church. 
The third made political liberty its ideal 
and has culminated in the dictatorships of 
our own day. 

Contemplating this contrast between 
intention and performance, Mr. Martin 
finds it a little hard to avoid a pessimistic 




estimate of human nature, but takes com- 
fort in the thought that however much 
they may pretend to be mass movements, 
revolutions are really due to small and 
desperate minorities, all that the masses 
contribute being examples of crowd 
psychosis. Its nature is akin to paranoia 
in an individual. The symptoms are ob- 
session by an idea, with its corollaries of 
egomania on the part of those it obsesses 
and a homicidal impulse directed against 
the obstacles to its realization. 

Such being the origins of revolution, the 
belief that it is an instrument of social 
progress must be ill founded. True, revo- 
lutionaries try to associate themselves 
with 'advanced thought;' but the con- 
nection is not organic. A new idea may 
disturb a government and cause it to 
make its weakness public by interfering 
with freedom of thought. Revolution, at- 
tacking the government, professes to 
champion the doctrines which that gov- 
ernment seeks to suppress; but in truth a 
successful revolution occurs 'when people 
abandon the attempt to solve their prob- 
lems and resort to infantile temper tan- 

Because it is a tantrum, a revolution 
utterly misses its alleged objective. Thus 
at the present moment people suffering 
from the world's economic distress are 
obsessed by the idea of a planned econ- 
omy, and for its sake are prepared to ac- 
cept a dictatorship which will deprive 
them of those very rights as citizens 
thanks to which they are able to ventilate 
their grievances. 

Against this intellectual background 
Mr. Martin sets his historical survey. Be- 
ginning with Rome, he scores a neat point 
by observing that the average Roman 
business man, lawyer or army officer of the 
late Republic would have talked like the 
typical middle-class Englishman of to- 

'He would have deplored the "modern- 
ism" of the younger generation, . . . 
would have assured you that he was an 
optimist, but would have thought that 

certain politicians were leading the pro- 
letariat into dangerous Radicalism. . . 
He would have been worried about the 
number of unemployed in Rome, and 
have said Rome was being filled with dan- 
gerous foreigners who ought to be sent 
back where they came from.' 

A fair hit: but Mr. Martin invites the 
retort that his own critical standpoint is 
that of the middle-class American of yes- 
terday, convinced that the abolition of 
slavery is the beginning of all real prog- 
ress and that strength in the central 
Government is to be deplored as checking 
rugged individualism. Equally of the pe- 
riod is his criticism of the triumph of 
Christianity that it exalted meekness 
when the times needed the more robust 
virtues of the early Republic. 

GREATER insight is shown, however, in 
the discussion of the medieval period. It 
had to deal, Mr. Martin suggests, with 
three irreconcilable elements the violent, 
barbarian tradition, the organizing genius 
of Rome as transmitted by the Church, 
and the millennial aspirations of early 
Christianity. In the thirteenth century 
some sort of harmony was achieved but 
not preserved. The root of the trouble was 
that the barbarian invaders were Chris- 
tianized before they were civilized. Hence 
to this day the civilization of the West is 
not merely borrowed but is only skin- 
deep, so that 'culture still seems to most 
of us to be a genteel luxury.' Because 
there was no real synthesis of its constitu- 
ent ideas, the medieval mind was likely to 
be swept off its balance, and because its 
whole cast was religious, the disturbance, 
as Peter the Hermit showed, could best 
be created through a religious appeal: 

'This beginning of evangelistic preach- 
ing is historically important. With it be- 
gan that technique of emotional, often 
ignorant, appeal to the masses which 
tended to reduce religious preaching to 
mere exhortation and propaganda and de- 
prive the religious instruction of the peo- 
ple of much of its intellectual content. 




The method of mass appeal, later resorted 
to by Franciscans and Dominicans, led to 
Luther's severe denunciation of the 
preaching of the friars. Yet it was em- 
ployed by the "poor preachers," followers 
of John Wyclif in England, who became 
the predecessors of the Wesleys, Cotton 
Mathers and various other revivalists, 
demagogues, and such-like, who have 
done much to make public sentiment what 
it is today.' 

Nor is emotionalism the only character- 
istic of crowd psychosis which Mr. Mar- 
tin traces back to the Middle Ages. The 
Hildebrandine movement to correct cleri- 
cal abuses had led the common man to 
believe that he was probably the moral 
superior of his social betters and was thus 
responsible for the class-consciousness, 
which was at the root of the peasants' 
revolt in England and of heretical radical- 
ism on the Continent, and which ulti- 
mately defeated Innocent Ill's attempt 
to establish the Papacy as a sort of inter- 
national dictatorship regulating the exist- 
ing social order. It met the papal aspira- 
tions with a demand for a brotherhood of 
souls based on primitive Christian com- 
munism. This demand eventually dis- 
rupted the Church and left behind it not a 
purified ecclesiastical order but the mod- 
ern system of nation-states. 

Against the tyranny of such States, 
revolution sought to assert the inalienable 
rights of man. The movement opened 
with the Long Parliament, or possibly 
with the reaction to the putsch known as 
the Gunpowder Plot. In its origin, Mr. 
Martin thinks, this movement was re- 
ligious rather than political or economic, 
and he notes that the average Puritan, 
though bigoted, was 'free from the vices 
and corruptions of ordinary humanity.' 
Nevertheless, Puritanism followed the 
ordinary revolutionary course, largely be- 
cause its times were harsh and cruel, and 
even set a new precedent by working the 
crowd's homicidal impulse up to a climax 
in the execution of the King. 

Anti-monarchical sentiment traveled 

with the Pilgrim Fathers to America and 
played a part in the movement which 
founded the United States. Mr. Martin 
asks how far this movement can be called 
a revolution, and finds that revolutionary 
ideas acted on the legitimate dissatisfaction 
of colonists, who felt themselves exploited 
by companies having their headquarters 
in England, and who were therefore in- 
clined to suspect new taxation imposed 
by London. In all the Colonies men 
who had been servants in England found 
themselves independent farmers, and 
were in a mood to challenge the system 
which had made them what they once had 
been. Their fervor helped both to provoke 
and to win the war, but 'had the achieve- 
ment of national independence not been 
preceded by the movement for social 
revolution within the colonies, public af- 
fairs in America might have been con- 
ducted on a higher level of intelligence 
than that which has prevailed during the 
greater part of its history as a nation . . . 
The public as a whole, the undifferentiated 
mass, took to itself credit for American 
nationality and identified its collective 
egotism with the virtue of patriotism.* 

The comment prepares the reader for 
Mr. Martin's chapter on the French 
Revolution, which he treats as the classi- 
cal instance of crowd psychosis, with its 
obsession of Liberty, Equality and Fra- 
ternity, its egomania expressed in the 
doctrine of the sovereign people, and its 
homicidal impulses given free play by the 
guillotine. As to the futility of the Revo- 
lution, how could it be better illustrated 
than by the contrast between the Rights 
of Man and the despotism of Napoleon? 

What the Revolution had shown, how- 
ever, was its capacity for ' breaking down 
established habit patterns and releasing 
the criminal tendencies in human nature 
and the criminal elements in the com- 
munity.' This aspect of revolutionary 
technique became prominent after 1848 
had seen the exhaustion of the old hu- 
manitarian aspirations and the transfer of 
hatred from the priest and the landlord to 




the shareholder. It is, nevertheless, re- 
markable that the French Revolution 
should have fostered Communism, and 
Mr. Martin is able to throw an interesting 
trans-atlantic light on the process: 

'Many Americans before the Civil War 
were hardly more sparing than Karl Marx 
in their denunciation of capitalist indus- 
trialism. Many thousands of people had 
emigrated to those shores to escape that 
very system. There was therefore a strong 
agrarian hostility to the development and 
spread of New England industrialism in 
this continent . . . Horace Greeley him- 
self was sufficiently influenced by Fourier 
to employ Karl Marx as regular foreign 
contributor to the New York Tribune. It 
was not until later that criticism of the 
capitalist system in the United States 
ceased to be respectable.' 

In Europe, on the other hand, such 
criticism was revolutionary from the 
first, with the result that the old idealism 
was degraded into a conspiracy against 
the social order. As such, Its hopes lay 
with the development of a satisfactory 
conspiratorial technique. For lack of it the 
Paris Commune failed. By the use of it 
Bolshevism succeeded. It only remained 
for Mussolini and Hitler to make a sig- 
nificant improvement on Lenin's tech- 
nique. Instead of trading on the under- 
dog's sense of inferiority they appealed to 
his pride by invoking his national spirit. 

The wheel has now come full circle, and 
the very movement which started as a 
protest against despotism three hundred 
years ago has been converted into an en- 
gine for its establishment. 

Japan Must Fight Britain 

Japan Must Fight Britain. By Toto 
Ishimaru. London: Hurst and Blacken. 

(Kurt von Stutterheim in the Berliner Tageblatt, 

TUST at this very moment, when Eng- 
land Is staring, as if hypnotized, at the 
'German peril,' there comes an alarm 

signal from the Far East. It comes from 
the gun of Toto Ishimaru, Lieutenant- 
Commander in the Imperial Japanese 
Fleet. Ishimaru has written a book which 
has been translated into English, and in 
which he examines Anglo-Japanese rela- 
tions. The conclusions drawn from this 
examination are embodied in the title 
Japan Must Fight Britain. 

Ishimaru bases this postulate on the 
fact that England has too much and 
Japan too little. And this Japanese defi- 
ciency Is so enormous that Japan's only 
choice lies between war and suffocation 
unless England gives way territorially and 
commercially by opening the Empire to 
Japanese trade and immigration. But 
since Ishimaru has no confidence in Eng- 
land's voluntary renunciation, only war 
can bring a decision, just as in 1914 the 
issue between England and Germany had 
to be decided by arms. Before the War it 
was Germany, today it is Japan, which Is 
England's most dangerous competitor, 
and whose goods are forcing those of the 
English out of the Asiatic and African 
market. With the growth of her industry 
Japan has proved that she is able to win 
battles in time of peace as well as in time 
of war. 

Ishimaru divides the inevitable war 
with England into two parts: a diplomatic 
and a military one. The decision in the 
latter struggle is to take place in Singa- 
pore. If Japan can take Singapore or put 
it out of action before a strong English 
squadron can get there, England's pros- 
pects for victory are nil. Thus the most 
essential thing for Japan to do is to have 
the outbreak of the war occur at a time 
when the British fleet is still far away. If 
she succeeds, and Singapore falls, Japan's 
submarines, airplanes and cruisers can 
catch the British fleet in the Indian Ocean 
or between the Malay Islands. This will 
mean that Japan will have an open route 
to Australia and the Dutch-East Indies. 
If, however, the coup against Singapore 
fails, Japan's situation will be serious. 
Ishimaru takes this risk fully into ac- 




count; for in his opinion Japan can choose 
only between war and starvation. 

Ishimaru believes that the diplomatic 
danger is far greater than the military; 
for in the diplomatic field England is an 
unexcelled master. Although she lost the 
War against Germany in a military sense, 
she won it politically. Ishimaru has no 
doubt that, following her tradition, Eng- 
land will use all her diplomatic abilities to 
get others to fight for her. To thwart this 
manoeuver he demands immediate recon- 
ciliation with Soviet Russia and the 
United States, as well as a rapprochement 
with France designed to force England to 
keep important military forces in the 

But what will happen if Moscow does 
not remain neutral, and Singapore does 
not fall? Then, says Ishimaru, Japan may 
lose this war, but only this one. For the 
unbroken strength of the Japanese people 
will rise again even after defeat, and by 
means of new wars will find a place in the 
sun. If, on the other hand, England loses 
the war, it will mean the end of the British 
Empire. For this reason there is much 
more at stake for England than there is for 
Japan; and thus Ishimaru's advice to 
England is to give in in time, rather than 
risk war. 

Obviously Ishimaru takes into con- 
sideration many unknown factors, such as 
the attitude of the Soviet Union and the 
United States, while he regards China as 
merely the passive object of other nations' 
policies. But worse than this, he flirts 
with a great illusion. For in the eyes of 
this Japanese England is already declin- 
ing, while young Japan is still inexorably 
rising. It is strange that Ishimaru, who so 
frequently draws a parallel between Eng- 
land and Germany and England and 
Japan, makes the same mistake Imperial 
Germany made in underestimating the 
English people. Is he blind to the fact that 
the English rise up like wild animals when 
they see their vital interests threatened 
interests for the protection of which they 
are right now spending 300 million pounds ? 

Ishimaru can easily see today how false is 
his belief that New York has replaced 
London as the money market of the world. 

We do not know who is behind Ishi- 
maru, nor whether the Tokyo authorities 
share his opinion that war with England is 
inevitable and that an unexpected attack 
on Singapore will be decisive. If Ishi- 
maru's opinion is to be regarded as the 
official one, England actually is in grave 
danger, for her rearmament is not yet 
completed and Mussolini is threatening 
the British Mediterranean Fleet. Perhaps 
this was the secret behind Baldwin's 
'sealed lips.' But to draw the conclusion 
that England's hour has struck is, to say 
the least, rash. 

On the other hand, it is to the author's 
credit that he proves how black are the 
clouds that are gathering in the Far 
Eastern sky, and how deep the military 
and economic contrasts between the 
former allies have become. He has done 
this in a manner which for bluntness is un- 
equaled. If an Anglo-Japanese war breaks 
out, Japan Must Fight Britain will be the 
warning signal. 

[The American edition of Ishimaru* s book 
has been published by the Telegraph Press 
of Harrisburg, Pa., at $3.00.] 

The Russian Soul 
Symphonie Path^tique. By Klaus Mann. 
Amsterdam: ^uerido-Verlag. IQJS- 
(Otto Zarek in the Pester Lloyd, Budapest) 

A RE the Hves of artists interesting? 
The life of the composer Peter 
Tchaikovsky is, to a surprising degree. At 
a time when the literati, following the 
fashion, are on the trail of every fairly 
well-known figure and often, in order to 
obtain a" juicy novel-plot, build up 
artificial scenery around a simple, unim- 
portant, vegetative existence, the aloof 
personality of the Russian all-too-Rus- 
sian musician Tchaikovsky promises a 
hero whom a sensitive author cannot 
approach without being captivated. Tchai- 




kovsky's familiar music proves to be the 
true mirror of his earthly existence. In him 
as in his six symphonies the spirit of Rus- 
sia and that of the West are at war. The 
melancholia of the East is constantly 
oppressed by an unhappy love for the 
great forms of Western culture; oppressed, 
but seldom conquered. The Russian, 
drifting in soft melancholy, and never 
rising to determined structure, loves the 
serenity, the formal beauty, the heavenly 
clarity of Mozart, and bows down before 
them. But whenever he does rise, he is 
overcome by the lethargy of the ' Russian 
soul,' and he collapses in the knowledge 
that the high art has again slipped through 
his fingers. 

Nothing would be more false than to 
overestimate the music of Tchaikovsky, 
to make a hero of its creator. Klaus Mann 
in his Tchaikovsky novel is out to make 
the reader experience the tragic struggle 
of the master. With fine skill he places 
the already mature and famous man in the 
center of a fast moving action. He shows 
the unhappy doubter, inwardly isolated, 
being led on great tours through Europe, 
helpless, yearning for his home like a 
child, even when he is being acclaimed. 
A vigorously alive and colorful world, the 
musical Europe of the eighties, is recreated 
anew in this novel, as seen with the eyes of 
the epic writer. There is the precious scene 
in the salon in Leipzig where Tchaikovsky 
encounters Edvard Grieg and Brahms; 
there is the first meeting with the greatest 
of conductors, Artur Nikisch, who all his 
life was Tchaikovsky's prophet; there is 
the whole musical world of Paris and 
London ! 

But this novel about a musician does 
not rise to the level of a novel about a man 
until the author places this outer world in 
opposition to the inner world of a great, 
celebrated, struggling, suffering, bitterly 
lonely human being. As so often in the case 
of envied celebrities, Tchaikovsky, too, 
was doomed to loneliness by destiny. In 
vain he seeks quiet in the dens of the 
Place Pigalle and in the company of fallen 
creatures. He wastes precious time pathet- 
ically seeking the favors of good-looking 
boys. It is that time which he should have 
used to make himself one of the 'Great- 
est.' Thus Tchaikovsky's own life becomes 
a symphonie pathetique. 

Whoever knows the Klaus Mann's begin- 
nings must be honestly surprised to see 
him at twenty-seven a finished, mature, 
indeed, a genuine poet. Himself highly 
talented, he had to struggle against the 
example of his great father. Now suddenly 
the oppressive shadows seem to have 
receded; he has become freed, himself. 
The style of the book has great strength 
and color, a peculiar personal charm of its 
own. The action, the leading from a 
glamorous upper world into a dark, 
consciously toned down 'underworld,' 
shot through with spiritual experience, is 
full of stirring drama. All the characters 
of this novel, which is rich in characters, 
this entire gallery of great names is 
presented with plastic power. Klaus Mann 
always remains the narrator in the best 
sense of the word: keeping aloof and yet 
observing acutely, he is sensitive even 
when he uncovers the wounds of an erring 
soul. He has succeeded in writing a rich, 
mature, stimulating and poetic book. 


War and Diplomacy in the Japanese Em- 
pire. By Tatsuji Takeucbi. Introduction by 
^incy fVright. Garden City: Boubleday^ 
Doran and Company. 1935. 505 pages. $4.50. 

"p^ROM the promulgation of the written Con- 
stitution of 1889 to the ratification of the 
London Naval Treaty in 1930, Japanese con- 
stitutional government, and, with it, parlia- 
mentary control of the executive, developed. 
The development took place in spite of fre- 
quent efforts of the military to thwart it. The 
tradition of civilian government was strength- 
ening; the Diet was becoming an increasing 
participant in the formulation of policy; public 
opinion was on the verge of emerging as a 
factor in itself; and the eminent constitutional 
lawyer. Dr. Minobe, was able to assert that the 
Emperor was an organ of the State. Yet by 
1930 these processes had not advanced very 
far when measured in terms of American or 
English democracies. Japan was still ruled by 
an exceedingly small group of families, func- 
tioning either through the Imperial Court, the 
army, the navy, the Privy Council, or the 
political parties. Through their elected repre- 
sentatives in the Diet, the public participated 
to an exceedingly limited extent in the formu- 
lation of domestic policies, and not at all in the 
foreign sphere. A powerful, and at times in- 
dependent and liberal, press had developed, 
but too often it was curtailed by censorship or 
submitted to pressure groups. 

After the ratification of the London Naval 
Treaty, in 1930, the trend was reversed. Before 
the determined opposition of effective army 
and navy groups the slow, steady progress in 
parliamentary and civilian government gave 
way to a gradual return to the old feudal 
system. But as it was the 1930's, the recession 
was not towards feudalism as such but toward 
its modern counterpart, military fascism. In 
this backward march we have seen, as mile- 
stones along the way, the occupation of Man- 
churia and the setting up of the puppet state 
of Manchukuo; the abortive attack on Shang- 
hai; the occupation of Jehol; the North China 
'autonomy' movement; the isolation of Japan 
from international collective machinery; and 
assassinations and gangsterism at home. 

The issue is not yet determined. The parlia- 

mentary-civilian group still apparently holds 
the Government: the Emperor and court 
circles are with them. But, in terms of national 
budget, newspaper censorship, propaganda, 
and the control of the Foreign Office, the 
power of the military increases. Nevertheless 
the issue remains in the balance between these 
two great conservative factions of Japanese 

It is exactly on this central issue in modern 
Japan that Professor Takeuchi's book throws 
floods of light. He has made available in 
English for the first time a detailed analysis of 
the conduct of Japan's foreign relations 
(wherein this issue is dramatically reflected) 
from 1890 through the critical years 1930-32. 
Eighteen chapters are devoted to describing 
the inner Tokyo machinations with respect to 
important episodes in the country's foreign 
policy, episodes such as the revision of unequal 
treaties, the Anglo-Japanese Alliance, the 
Russo-Japanese War, the annexation of Korea, 
the Siberian Expedition, the Washington 
Conference, the murder of Chang Tso-lin, the 
London Naval Treaty, and the Manchurian 
crisis. The eight opening chapters analyze 
Japan's constitutional organization with spe- 
cial reference to external relations, and the 
final three chapters take up in review the con- 
duct of foreign relations as practiced between 
1889 and 1932. 

The book is excellent for what it contains 
and also for what it wisely excludes. Professor 
Takeuchi concentrates almost exclusively on 
the political and diplomatic negotiations be- 
tween the Cabinet, the military branches, the 
Genro, the Privy Council, the Emperor, the 
court, and the upper and lower houses of Par- 
liament with reference to episodes in the 
country's foreign relations. Anyone at all 
acquainted with Japan's social and economic 
problems will find these reflected in the com- 
plicated negotiations the book describes. It is 
as though the forces determining Japanese 
policy were viewed as a pyramid with the great 
underlying social and economic factors at the 
base, the various institutional organizations 
of Japanese society at the center, and the polit- 
ical expression at the top. Professor Takeuchi 
describes this top segment, where the under- 
lying forces below are given political expres- 



sion and form. The author does not attempt to 
expose the underlying factors themselves. 
Thus he does thoroughly a job which can be 
done in a single volume and by a student of 
law and international relations. He does not 
tread where the path, for him, would be un- 

Particular mention should be made of the 
author's courage in allowing this exceedingly 
valuable book to appear at this time. Tatsuji 
Takeuchi is professor of international relations 
at Kwansei Gakuin University, a young man 
beginning an academic career in Japan. His 
book, though objective, is certain to meet with 
displeasure in military-Fascist circles, and 
these, we know, can and do interrupt liberal 
academic careers. Notwithstanding this dan- 
ger, there is no indication that the author has 
withheld any evidence for fear of the con- 
sequences of publishing it. 

Frederick V. Field 

Survey of International Affairs, 1934. 
By Arnold J. Toynbee et al. London: Oxford 
University Press, ipj^. 743 pages. $10.00. 

"VT^EAR after year, since the publication of the 
first Survey in 1925 (covering the period 
1920-1923), scholars and informed readers 
eagerly await the appearance of the latest 
contribution to this series to summarize, clar- 
ify, and interpret the international history 
of the recent past. Brought out under the 
auspices of the Royal Institute of International 
Affairs and the editorship of Professor Toyn- 
bee, the volumes have all been distinguished 
for solidity of scholarship combined with bril- 
liance of writing. 

Part One of the Survey for 1934 is devoted 
to a sketch of economic developments through- 
out the world. There are excellent sections on 
the continuing financial and economic diffi- 
culties of the United States, the weakening of 
the European gold bloc, the German debt situ- 
ation, and the evidences of recovery in the 
ABC powers of Latin-America and the British 
overseas dominions. Of especial interest is the 
conclusion reached at the end of this portion 
of the work, that 'the principal advantage of 
currency depreciation . . . was not the stim- 
ulus to exports and the check to imports, but 
the capacity to pursue, within the national 
borders, liberal monetary and economic poli- 
cies unshackled by care for threatened gold 
reserves. ... On the other hand, the princi- 

pal disadvantage of the situation for the coun- 
tries still on gold was not the direct injury to 
their foreign trade but the need for still tighter 
internal deflation to bring their own price- 
systems into harmony with external prices as 
expressed in gold. For in no mstance . . . was 
the fall of the national currency against gold 
accompanied by even an approximately equal 
rise of prices expressed in the national cur- 

The second part of the Survey is concerned 
with Middle Eastern affairs from 1931 until 
the close of 1934. Main stress is laid upon the 
minorities question in Iraq and the kingdom's 
final 'emancipation' from its mandatory 
regime. Other sections deal with Pan-Islam, 
the admission of Turkey and Afghanistan to 
membership in the League of Nations, the 
settlement of half-a-dozen troublesome Arabian 
frontier disputes, the economic development of 
Palestine, Great Britain's relations with her 
Near Eastern mandates, and the interesting 
controversy between London and Teheran over 
the concession to the Anglo-Persian Oil Com- 
pany. The settlement reached by the dis- 
putants in this last connection is characterized 
as being 'neither inequitable nor oppressive 
to either of the two principals.' 

Europe is the subject of the third and longest 
portion of the Survey. In the first footnote to 
the Introduction (itself a lengthy and ex- 
cellent summary of the general trends of 
European diplomacy in 1934) to this part, 
occur these remarkable lines lines deserving 
of long thought and reflection: 'If we think 
of the years 1918-34 in terms of the years 
1815-48, which were the "post-war period" 
after the General War of 1792-18 15, we shall 
find in Monsieur Poincare our closest latter- 
day counterpart of Metternich. . . . The re- 
spective results of the two statesmen's endeav- 
ors are proportionate to the difference in the 
degree of their genius. The tour de force of 
imposing fixity upon a political flux, which a 
Metternich managed to keep up for thirty- 
three years, was only kept up for some fifteen 
years by a Poincare.' 

After this Introduction follow descriptions 
of recent Soviet and Baltic foreign policies, 
of the strained relations between Nazi Ger- 
many and the Austria of Dollfuss and Starhem- 
berg, of Italy's diplomatic maneuverings in 
respect of Austria and Hungary, of the Balkan 
Pact, and of the final settlement of the Saar 
problem. In the opinion of the author of the 




section on the Saar, the solving of this ques- 
tion made it 'manifest that, if once the terri- 
torial conflict between the two principal 
Powers of Continental Europe were removed 
from the arena, the whole international situa- 
tion in Europe was likely to improve almost 
beyond the range of imagination.' 

Part Four of the Survey deals with the Far 
East. Following sections on the internal de- 
velopments in China and Japan, come dis- 
cussions of Sino-Japanese, Soviet-Japanese, 
and Western-Japanese relations, and an inter- 
esting final section on events in 'Manchuria,' 
Mongolia, Sinkiang, and Tibet. The volume 
closes with a useful chronology of events for 
1934 and five good maps. 

It is hardly possible to do justice, in so brief 
a review, to the labor and care that went into 
the making of the Survey for 1934. Suffice it 
to say, in conclusion, that they who may read 
and ponder it will close this volume wiser and 
better men. 

Walter Consuelo Langsam 

Inside Europe. By John Gunlber. New York: 
Harper and Brothers. 1936. 470 pages. $3.50. 

TN THIS country we are now fast at work 
establishing traditions; but few traditions 
are so remarkable as that of the American 
newspaperman reporting Europe. Where Lin- 
coln Steffens left off, Vincent Shean and 
Dorothy Thompson began, and now the 
Fischers, Knickerbockers, and Mowrers are 
done one better by John Gunther of the 
Chicago Daily News, who summarizes his 
knowledge of twenty countries in a full-bodied 

The outstanding quality of this political 
Baedeker, beyond its comprehensiveness, is its 
aerial method of travel. Mr. Gunther is an ex- 
pert at the quick glance and aperfu: 'The for- 
eign policy of Spain is very simple: it is to stay 
behind the Pyrenees;' 'The chief crop of 
provincial Austria is scenery.' He is a retailer 
of lightly revealing footnotes on the august: 
Hitler likes best to stay in his Alpine chalet, 
from which he can look out upon his native 
Austria; the Franco-Soviet rapprochement 
was thickened by Herriot's trip to Moscow and 
his huge participation in its caviar; Stalin is 
partial to an American brand of tobacco, but 
tries to keep it under cover. He is a reporter 
of those whispered caf6-table jokes which re- 
veal, more than anything else, the reactions of 
people against dictators; and this makes his 

narrative sometimes more subterranean than 

Yet these showers of anecdotes do not con- 
vict Inside Europe of frivolity. They are in- 
troduced to support a serious thesis: Mr. 
Gunther believes that the strict economic in- 
terpretation of history has been overdone, and 
that in political destiny the force of personali- 
ties with all their accidents of heredity and en- 
vironment is overwhelmingly felt. Fascist dic- 
tators are the products of social chaos, other 
writers have told us that; Mr. Gunther em- 
phasizes that they have a psychopathology of 
their own, and he hauls Dr. Stekel of Vienna 
in to flank the personal histories and support 
some shrewd analysis. 

Leaving immediate personalities, the book 
concerns itself ably with the history of the 
shifts in British, French, and Soviet foreign 
policy from the War through 1935; the seven 
chapters on Germany inside and out are sup- 
plemented by sections on the Little and Bal- 
kan Ententes and the ominous shifting of their 
grouping toward the Fascist orbit. While the 
author remains the impartial recorder through- 
out, it is clear that he is profoundly impressed 
by recent developments in the U.S.S.R.: the 
contrast between Moscow, despite all its 
crudity, and the central capitals he feels to be 
one between order and hysteria, youth and 

William Harlan Hale 

Togo and the Rise of Japanese Sea Power. 
By Edwin A. Folk. New York: Longmans y 
Green and Company. igjS. joS pages. $4.00. 

T^HIS carefully documented biography of 
* one of Japan's leaders in its overnight 
emergence from medieval isolation to a domi- 
nant position in the politics of the western 
Pacific sets out to be the portrait of a great ad- 
miral by a naval man who is himself steeped in 
the glamor and the traditions of sea warfare. 
Each minor engagement in a long life of fight- 
ing English, Chinese and Russian ships is 
described with meticulous detail. The tech- 
nique of 'the Nelson touch,' about which the 
young Togo is said to have dreamt when the 
ship taking him, as a student cadet, to London 
passed Cape Trafalgar, is on every page. The 
range of 16 inch guns and the technique of 
mine-sweeping are described with the special, 
theological fervor of professional navalists. 

But the book does not stop at this. The 
paradox of a Satsuma boy, brought up with 




sabers and bows and arrows, becoming one of 
the master naval strategists of the twentieth 
century has forced the biographer back of the 
simple profile of an admiral to the depths and 
shadows of the Japanese world for which he 
fought. There is no new material here, and the 
political and military history of the fall of the 
Shogunate is emphasized to the exclusion of 
almost all the social and economic forces 
which were disrupting the close-girt seacoast 
of the Island Empire. But it is an accurate and 
readable running story of the miracle of a 
modern nation's birth. 

In describing the exploits of one of the 
grimmest of all naval commanders, the author 
has not allowed his respect for the naval talent 
of his subject to blur the outlines of his per- 
sonality. The very paucity of material about 
Togo's personal life sharpens the picture of 
him as an austere professional, driven by a 
blend of new nationalist fanaticism and older 
Japanese traditional virtues. And the author 
leaves in no obscurity the western origin of 
much of Togo's brutality and savagery, as 
well as of his steel-armored battleships and his 
navigation science. 

In 1894, when no war had been declared be- 
tween China and Japan, Togo met a British 
tramp steamer, the Kowsbing^ on its way to 
Korea, It carried 1,100 Chinese troops, but 
was under the command of a British officer. 
When the troops objected to being convoyed 
by the Japanese man-of-war, and threatened 
to delay Togo, he opened fire, and in five 
minutes the Kowshing plunged out of sight. 
After rescuing the British master and a Ger- 
man mercenary officer, Togo's smaller guns 
opened fire on the few boats that had been 
launched and on the Chinese still struggling in 
the sea. 

The author of this biography states such in- 
cidents with the dispassionate flavor of any 
technician describing a successful operation. 
But in sketching the background of Togo's 
life, he has made it clear that the Japanese ad- 
miral went to school to the west in more than 
naval science. In 1863 British warships had 
blown the paper town of Kagoshima into bits, 
killing thousands of civilians, and then, after 
destroying the fortifications at Shimonoseki, 
presented the Japanese with a demand for pay- 
ment not only of the cost of the expedition but 
also of a ransom because the town of Shimono- 
seki had not been destroyed! 

^Joseph Barnes 

Foreign Policy in the Far East. By Tarak- 
nath Das. New Tork: Longmans, Green and 
Company. 1936. 2^2 pages. $2.00. 

/^WING mainly to his keen appreciation of 
^^ the central role played by Great Britain 
in world imperialist politics, the author of this 
collection of essays has produced a valuable 
and stimulating addition to the study of Far 
Eastern international relations. The chapters 
on the complicated shifts of inter-imperialist 
alliances during the nineteenth century, with 
particular reference to the Far East, constitute 
an accurate and brilliant historical resume. No 
better summary introduction to this subject 
exists than Chapters III to VI of this volume. 

On the more recent Far Eastern issues, how- 
ever, summarized in Chapter VII, there is 
much greater room for disagreement with the 
author's interpretations. Arguments may be 
raised, for example, with regard to the follow- 
ing points: the author's stress on the extent 
and depth of Anglo-Japanese rivalry in the 
present epoch; his playing down of the con- 
flicts of interest between Japan and the United 
States; the 'defeat' of the Chinese Communist 
forces by Chiang Kai-shek; and the possibility 
of a Soviet-Japanese understanding which will 
assure Japan's neutrality in case a third power 
attacks the Soviet Union. In the final chapter, 
which constitutes a glowing eulogy of the 
altruistic nature of the foreign policies of the 
Roosevelt administration, the author's pro- 
American inclinations lead him to extremely 
naive conclusions. His general position with 
regard to the present-day tactics of American 
imperialism is well summarized in this sen- 
tence: 'Under the leadership of President 
Franklin D. Roosevelt and Secretary of State 
Cordell Hull the United States has embarked 
upon a new era of international diplomacy, 
based upon the ideals of freedom, justice and 
peace for all nations.' 

In general, the fundamental defect in the 
author's philosophic outlook is the tendency to 
ascribe current difficulties to conflicting foreign 
policies instead of to the controlling influence 
exerted by underlying economic trends, 
illustrated in the following statement: 'The 
present-day "world depression," which has 
affected the internal conditions of all nations, 
is the product of the World War; and the 
World War was caused by the conflicting 
foreign policies of various nations.' 

T. A. BissoN 



The Making of Modern Iraq, A Product of 
World Forces. By Henry A.Foster. Norman: 
University of Oklahoma Press. igjS- 319 
pages. Maps. $4.00. 

Iraq, From Mandate to Independence. By 
Ernest Main. Foreword by Lord Lloyd of 
Dolobran. New Tork: The Macmillan Com- 
pany^ igj6. 26J pages. $4.00. 

'T^HE natives of Iraq have a saying which 
vividly expresses the fertility of a region, 
which since the beginning of written history 
has been one of the foci of civilization. *If you 
tickle her soil,' the proverb goes, 'it smiles a 

Professor Foster, who cites this epigram, has 
written an account of this bitterly contested 
earthly Eden, which entitles him to the lasting 
gratitude of all students of the Near East. It 
is his contention that ' the new Iraq must stand 
in considerable measure for the deliberate 
repudiation of the practice of annexation by 
victors' and that her reception into the League 
of Nations demonstrates the capacity of the 
great Powers to act on the principle of 'world 
neighborliness,' even to admittedly backward 
and helpless nations. To illustrate this thesis 
(which is not receiving much confirmation from 
Mussolini in his 'civilizing' mission in Ethio- 
pia) Professor Foster has assembled a mass of 
historical, economic, political and cultural 
material bearing on the history of Iraq from 
the earliest times. At every stage we see the 
clash of interests converging from all points of 
Europe, watch the development of nationalist 
ambitions under the 'encouragement' now of 
one Power now of another. Facts, documents 
and reports abound: of particular value is the 
very extensive account of the British period, 
beginning with the 'mandate' experience. 

Dr. Main, an experienced British journalist 
with a scholar's background, supplements 
Foster's monograph, and amplifies the concrete 
economic problems of Iraq as they relate to 
Great Britain's role. He frankly believes that 
'British interest and British honor are in- 
volved' all along the line and demonstrates 
this thesis by an unusually full account of the 
strategic factors of Iraq in the fields of com- 
munications, airways and transportation (the 
oil tangle centering around Mosul), in agri- 

culture, trade and industry. Along with this 
plea for continued British 'influence' if not 
overt control over Iraq the reader is given 
some remarkable pictures of the actual life 
and customs of the natives, including the 
Bedouins and Arabs whom Lawrence of 
Arabia led with more harm than good, 
according to Dr. Main. Indispensable volumes, 
both of them. 

Harold Ward 

The Abandoned Wood. By Monique Saint- 
Helier. New Tork: Harcourt, Brace and 
Company. igj6. 334 pages. $2.50. 

ly/flSS Saint-H^lier's novel was honored with 
the France-America Award. It is an 
intimate, carefully-observed, sentimental story 
of French country life. So delicate a vin du pays 
could not, however, survive the passage into a 
foreign tongue unspoiled. Mr. James Whitall 
(once a collaborator with George Moore) has 
done his work of translation as well as anyone 
could have done it, but he has failed, as anyone 
else must have done, in conveying the fragrance 
of the original. 

H. B. 

Books Received 

The Eve of 1914. By Theodore fVolff. Trans- 
lated by E. fV. Dickes. New Tork: Alfred A. 
Knopf. 1936. $4.30. 

(Reviewed in 'Books Abroad,' December, 1935.) 

A History of Europe. By H. A. L. Fisher. 
Volume in. The Liberal Experiment. Boston: 
Houghton Mifflin Co. 1936. $4.00. 

(Reviewed in 'Books Abroad,' February, 1936.) 

Soviet Communism: A New Civilization? 

By Sidney and Beatrice Webb. Two Volumes. 

New Tork: Scribners. I936.'$7.50. 
(Reviewed in 'Books Abroad,' January, 1936.) 

Recollections of a Picture Dealer. By 

Ambroise Vollard. Translated from the French 

by Violet M. Macdonald. With illustrations. 

Boston: Little, Brown & Co. 1936. $4.50. 

(Reviewed in 'Books Abroad,' March, 1936.) 


A Symposium 

IHE LIVING AGE has recently asked 
certain members of its Advisory Council 
to express their opinions on two of the 
most important problems confronting 
America today. As our regular subscribers 
know, our Advisory Council consists of 
persons of distinction in the educational, 
professional, official, financial and indus- 
trial life of the nation. The questions on 
which we asked these gentlemen to give 
us their opinions were: i. Do you believe 
that, on the basis of what the League of 
Nations has and has not done since its 
foundation, the United States of America 
should or should not become a member of 
it, or should cooperate in its sanctions? 
2. What do you believe to be the wisest 
neutrality policy for the United States, 
both in respect to the Italo-Ethiopian 
War and in case of further European 

The response to The Living Age's re- 
quest for expressions of opinion on these 
topics was gratifying indeed. Some of the 
letters which have been received are pre- 
sented in what follows; others will be 
given in the June Living Age; and the final 
instalment of them will probably be pub- 
lished in July. 

One very earnest group of correspond- 
ents expresses regret that the United 
States did not retain membership in the 
League of Nations after President Wilson 
signed the Treaty of Versailles, subject, 
of course, to the action of the Senate, 
which failed to ratify it. This group of 
correspondents believes that the world 
would be a better and a safer place to- 
day had we become a member of the 

Another and equally articulate group 
expresses forcibly the view that whatever 
might have been the course of wisdom 
and sound policy in 1919, the United 
States should not now subscribe to the 

Covenant of the League of Nations. 
Others believe that the United States 
should cooperate cordially with the League 
of Nations without becoming a member of 
it, while the consensus of opinion of still 
other correspondents is that participation 
in the League of Nations would have been 
a mistake for this country from the be- 
ginning. Others, though of this opinion, 
are willing to acknowledge that the 
League of Nations deserves credit for 
what it has done. 

On the other hand, some of our friends 
express the view that the League of Na- 
tions, if it ever had any real value, has 
exhausted its usefulness and should now 
'disband.' Another conclusion frequently 
expressed is that the League of Nations is 
essentially a European organization with 
which the United States should not ac- 
tively cooperate as a member or as an in- 
dependent nation. 

It is interesting, finally, that a number 
of letters advise against joining the League 
of Nations or cooperating with it because 
certain nations members of the League 
have repudiated their honest debts. 

Some of our correspondents assume 
that The Living Age is for or against the 
League of Nations, or that it advocates or 
opposes certain international policies 
which have been the subject of much con- 
troversy and debate. Because of its desire 
to secure expressions of opinion from its 
correspondents uninfluenced by anything 
that it might say. The Living Age has 
sought, for the present, to be entirely 
impartial and neutral upon all of the is- 
sues presented. 

ONE of the most interesting letters re- 
ceived was from Dr. H. A. Garfield, former 
President of Williams College, and Chair- 
man of the Institute of Politics, an or- 
ganization which performed a world serv- 




ice of genuine importance for many years. 
Dr. Garfield said in part: 

Ever since the days of the League to En- 
force Peace I have been in favor of the ideas 
embodied in the covenant of the League. In 
my view the United States should have be- 
come a party to the League and shared in its 
responsibilities. Isolation and the narrow na- 
tionalism advocated by many of our fellow 
citizens seem to me chimerical. Strong as she 
is, America cannot stand alone, and her wide- 
spread interests dictate that she should not 
seek to do so. Our responsibilities are coexten- 
sive with the strength that is ours. 

As to our neutrality policy I have not yet 
reached a firm conclusion, except to this ex- 
tent: I do not favor tying the hands of our 
Chief Executive. In other words, flexibility and 
not rigidity should characterize the policy, and 
the exercise of the functions which make for 
flexibility should be in the hands of the Presi- 
dent and not of Congress, subject only to such 
general limitations as the act conferring power 
upon the President should designate. The rea- 
son for my hesitancy concerning the neutrality 
policy is the difficulty of formulating the act. 
Too great haste here may lead us into war 
rather than out of it. 

ANOTHER communication of excep- 
tional interest was that received from Dr. 
Harry Woodburn Chase, Chancellor of 
New York University. Dr. Chase writes 
as follows: 

While I think the League of Nations has 
been many times inactive, has been on occa- 
sions a catspaw for some of the larger powers, 
and has engaged in a hopeless attempt to 
maintain the status agreed on by the Treaty of 
Versailles, I still regard it as an indication of 
the path which the world must ultimately 
travel. Surely in the long run nations cannot 
live together by isolating themselves from each 
other and arming desperately against each 
other. I do not believe that the United States 
by a merely negative policy of isolation can in 
the end stay clear of a world disturbance of 
first magnitude. It therefore seems to me clear 
that, if not the present League of Nations, 
then some other international agency of accord 
must become an effective instrument in the af- 
fairs of mankind. The alternative is nothing 
less than the collapse of civilization as we have 
known it. 

FROM Dr. George W. Douglas, associate 
editor of the Evening Public Ledger (Phil- 
adelphia), and a man who has had a long 
and interesting career as newspaper re- 
porter, author, and editorial writer, came 
the following communication: 

The Covenant of the League of Nations was 
formed in the hope that it might, when ap- 
proved by the various nations, discourage, if 
not prevent, war. I have always regretted that 
the inability of President Wilson to agree to 
some minor changes, which did not seriously 
aflfect the general purpose of the Covenant, 
prevented the United States from entering the 
League. If the United States had been a mem- 
ber of the League, that organization might 
have accomplished the things intended a little 
more successfully. But it should be noted that 
the League, like all other organizations, can 
do no more than its members are willing to do 
under any given set of circumstances. It 
should also be noted that the League is the 
embodiment of an aspiration toward an ideal 
condition for which the world in the present 
state of civilization is not yet prepared. 

It is too early to decide what effect it will 
have upon the Ethiopian situation, but it is 
evident that its influence in the European 
crisis has been beneficial. If there had been no 
League, it is probable that when Hitler moved 
troops into the Rhine provinces, the French 
would have marched their own troops there to 
resist the advance of the Germans. The effec- 
tiveness of the League would have been 
strengthened if the United States had been a 
member and had thrown its influence in favor 
of a peaceful settlement of the dispute with 

Regarding sanctions, even though the 
United States is not a member of the League, 
President Roosevelt did all that was within his 
power to cooperate with the League when it 
planned to impose sanctions upon Italy. He 
did his best to discourage shipments of war 
materials to Italy. As a member of the League 
the United States would never have to do 
anything which it did not want to do; for, ac- 
cording to the plan, it was to be a permanent 
member of the Council, and there was to be 
unanimous agreement in the Council before its 
decisions became eff'ective. 

In the present state of opinion in the United 
States, however, discussion of its relation to 
the League is purely academic. 




ANOTHER editor and journalist, E. R. 
Eastman, president and editor of the 
American Agriculturist of Ithaca, New 
York, is optimistic concerning the world 
of the future, though he thinks *a few 
funerals of the so-called diplomats of the 
old school ' might hasten the realization of 
his hopes. Mr. Eastman writes: 

When the young pioneer and his bride left 
their New England home, and turned for the 
last look backward at the forest edge, well 
they knew that chances were they would 
never see their old home, never look their rela- 
tives and friends in the face again on this earth. 
Distances were so far because of lack of com- 
munication and transportation that the pio- 
neer who went West might almost as well 
have gone to another planet. 

But we don't even have to go back to the 
short time, as history measures time, of pio- 
neer days. Any middle-aged man who lived as 
a boy in a country community a brief forty or 
fifty years ago well remembers how isolated 
country neighborhoods were one from an- 
other, and how the people just over the hill 
were more or less strangers and therefore to be 
largely misunderstood and under suspicion. 
Today go to any large meeting of farmers and 
note how through improved methods of trans- 
portation the farm folk of a whole county, 
even of a whole world, have become neighbors, 
and how they work together for the common 

It seems to me that in these changes within 
our own experience we see the hope of peace in 
the world for the future. Because of trans- 
portation and communication the whole 
world is fast becoming one neighborhood. If, 
therefore, we can let down the barriers, give 
these modern facilities of getting together an 
opportunity to work, the misunderstanding 
and suspicion of one another's motives are 
bound to disappear. Perhaps we need a few 
funerals of the so-called diplomats of the old 
school and a placing of new leaders who will 
use the opportunity made by new methods of 
transportation and communication to bring 
about better understanding among men. We 
boast of our modern civilization, but where is 
it when men fight as readily and more viciously 
than ever? The responsibility for this must 
rest on the leaders, for the peoples of the world 
are overwhelmingly for peace. 

America talks of strict neutrality of keep- 
ing out of European embroilments. But such 
talk is futile. Because of modern invention we 
are all near neighbors, all inter-dependent. 
What affects one, affects all. If our neighbors 
fight, sooner or later we will be drawn in. 
Hence the imperative necessity of using our 
tremendous influence either through the 
League of Nations or in cooperation with our 
great Anglo-Saxon cousin, Great Britain, to 
work for peace. 

C. A. DYKSTRA of Cincinnati, Ohio, 
one of the earliest and most successful 
'City Managers,' has expressed briefly 
these views: 

I am one of the old-fashioned devotees of the 
idea of a League of Nations, and I hope the 
time will come when we can participate in its 
activities. Moreover, I should be glad to see the 
program worked out which would curb the 
trade in munitions and war materials, so that 
war would be a very difficult policy to prose- 

FROM George A. Barton, Professor 
Emeritus of the University of Pennsyl- 
vania, has come a much appreciated let- 
ter. Professor Barton writes as follows: 

It has long seemed to me that in view of the 
close relationship into which modern systems 
of communication have bound the nations of 
the world, together with the great advance in 
the ability to destroy, it is imperative, if hu- 
manity is to continue to live on this planet at 
all, that some sort of a world federation, such 
as the League of Nations, with authority to 
restrain selfishly aggressive powers, be estab- 
lished. The League of Nations is the first great 
step toward such a structure, and, in my judg- 
ment, should receive the hearty support and 
cooperation of the United States. Had this 
country been a part of the League when it was 
formed, I am convinced that its success in 
preventing the unhappy episodes which have 
occurred since would have been very much 
greater. It is true that often to restrain an 
aggressor it is necessary to apply 'sanctions,' 
and sanctions may mean a small war, but in 
the end such a war is far less costly than 
world-wide conflagration. 

That we as a nation refused to join the 
League has always seemed to me greatly to 
our discredit. Three motives, I have noted. 




have often been assigned for our action: first, 
that we are safely protected by the great 
oceans and are not, ourselves, in danger; sec- 
ond, that it is not our business to pull Euro- 
pean chestnuts out of the fire, or to pay for do- 
ing so; and, third, that we are so inexperienced 
in diplomatic finesse that were we members of 
the League European nations would always 
succeed in making us an instrument for the ac- 
complishment of their purposes. All these 
reasons seem to me unworthy. They appear to 
arise partly from selfishness and partly from an 
inferiority complex. 

It is quite true that the League as formed 
lacks much that is desirable. Such deficiencies 
are, however, due to the present backward 
ethical state of the world. The ideal League 
should be able to deal dispassionately with 
such problems of over-population and the 
need for relief from it as are driving Japan and 
Italy into their present selfishly aggressive 
courses. Until the human race has so evolved 
that nations that have unoccupied territory 
are willing to turn it over for colonization to 
peoples like the Italians and Japanese, or until 
national feeling has broadened so that in- 
dividual nations can see their subjects migrate 
to another territory without feeling aggrieved 
that they must lose control over their persons, 
such painful incidents must continue to arise 
and will undoubtedly create much friction. 
That, however, seems to me no reason for re- 
fusing to support the one organization 
(namely, the League of Nations) which aflFords 
us any hope for the gradual building up in the 
world of a common understanding that will 
result in the building up of an international 
world point of view on the part of all peoples. 

Meantime, if the United States is deter- 
mined to refuse to join the League of Nations 
it certainly seems to me that she ought to be 
willing to cooperate in enforcing such sanc- 
tions against an aggressor-nation as the 
League of Nations may impose. Had we been 
willing to cooperate with Great Britain and the 
League in enforcing oil sanctions against 
Italy this past summer the independence of 
Abyssinia need not have been sacrificed to the 
nationalistic ambitions of a stronger nation, in 
violation of that nation's pledged word, as 
seems now likely to be the case. 

ONE of the most impressive and striking 
communications received, in spite of its 
brevity, came from President Raymond 

Leslie Buell of the Foreign Policy Associa- 
tion. Mr. Buell said: 

In my opinion, the year 1936 may see a 
turning point in world affairs. It is possible 
that the trend will continue toward war, but if 
wise statesmanship prevails, we may see a new 
peace conference such as was recently sug- 
gested by London. 

There are many obstacles which will have to 
be overcome before this conference can be 
held. I doubt very much whether the policy of 
the United States toward Europe will change 
materially until the situation begins to clear 
up. Should this world conference be convened, 
then certainly the United States should par- 
ticipate in so far as the economic and arma- 
ment matters are concerned. No one in Europe 
today expects the United States to join the 
League, but there is a general hope that the 
United States will not obstruct the develop- 
ment of the League. The events of the coming 
months will determine whether the League is 
to live or give way to a new balance of power. 
Only when the results of this are known, will it 
be possible to consider a reorientation of 
American foreign policy. 

I think this country in its exaggerated 
armament program is contributing to the feel- 
ing of general insecurity. America is in a better 
position than any other power to keep its 
head, but instead of doing it, she is suflFering 
from a severe case of jitters. 

City, author, editor, and newspaper pub- 
lisher, expresses strong opposition to the 
United States becoming a member of the 
League of Nations 'at any time, for any 
reason.' Mr. Stoddard's letter continues: 

The problems of the League are the prob- 
lems of Europe and of prejudices and tradi- 
tions with which we must never be identified. 

President Wilson undertook to do for Eu- 
rope what it could not do for itself and what 
a mess he made of it! 

Our participation would mean that we 
would become the arbiter of all the barbaric 
instincts now shown in the attitude toward 
each other of practically all the so-called 
statesmen of Continental Europe. They are 
not statesmen they are merely inflamers of 
their home people whose passion for peace and 
good-will would prevail in every country if 




their governments would not stir them to war 
and hatred. It is the man at the top who is 
keeping the world on a basis of barbarism 
postponing indefinitely the civilized state 
which we boast but which does not exist. 

England is burdened with responsibility for 
leadership toward peace. She is carrying it 
with true British sturdiness. She understands 
it better than we ever can. Where England 
cannot succeed in such a mission, there is no 
possibility that the United States could. 

No let us stick to our knitting here at 
home. We shall find plenty to occupy us if we 
keep to that pattern that every President but 
Wilson believed in and followed. 

All power to the League of Nations. I wish 
it well. It has done more good than it is popu- 
larly credited with. Let it keep on but it does 
not need and should not have us. 

As for neutrality, there would be none by us 
if war should come in Europe. Among our 
citizens we have too many of every nationality 
for us to be free of their influence. Every poli- 
tician will figure where the most votes of for- 
eign-born citizens are and will plump for 
them. Any legislation that stands in the way 
would be repealed before a war gets far, and 
our factories would be speeded up to supply the 

Did Texas limit oil shipments to Italy? 
Didn't the 'deserving Democrats' of the Lone 
Star State convince Jim Farley (and through 
him the Administration) that oil prosperity in 
Texas was essential to electoral votes from 
that State, while 'sanctions' against oil would 
have another meaning? So oil went out to 
Italy by ship loads and the electoral vote stays 
in for Roosevelt. 

That is just an example of the neutrality 
and 'sanctions' bosh. 

A DISTINGUISHED educator, Profes- 
sor Norman Mackenzie of the University 
of Toronto, while expressing his reluc- 
tance, as a Canadian, to comment upon 
the international policies of the United 
States, has favored us nevertheless with 
interesting observations. In part, they 
follow : 

I believe that war can be prevented if peo- 
ples and their governments are serious in their 
desire to prevent it. War cannot be prevented 
unless all of the Great Powers and the ma- 
jority of the smaller ones are prepared to work 

together to that end. To achieve this three 
things seem essential. 

1. The guaranty of reasonable security to 
every state. This can only be done by the col- 
lective guaranty of the majority of nations to 
assist any nation attacked. 

2. Adequate measures to ensure that justice 
be done as between state and state, and to pro- 
vide for the necessary changes that must be 
made from time to time in the relations of 

3. Some form of international organization 
and regulation in those fields in which organi- 
zation and regulation seem necessary or desir- 

The League of Nations is an institution or 
method by means of which fifty-eight of the 
sixty-four nations in the world are attempting 
to prevent war along the lines I have indicated 
above. I have always felt that the strength of 
the United States, together with the other 
League members, would have guaranteed se- 
curity while her detached position coupled 
with her strength would have gone a long way 
toward achieving justice, in Europe, Asia, and 
Africa, and toward securing the necessary 
changes from time to time. Her withdrawal in 
1920 from the League and all that it represents 
has (again in my opinion) been largely respon- 
sible for the failure of that institution to deal 
adequately with so many of the problems that 
have come before it. The League can function 
without the United States, but the excuse for 
not functioning in the absence of the United 
States is so obvious and available that it is 
unlikely that any state member of the League 
will make the sacrifices that are necessary if 
the League is to prove eflfective. This is par- 
ticularly true in the case of sanctions: for why 
should any nation agree to cooperate in the ap- 
plication of sanctions if that merely means 
transferring a market to the United States? 

The United States' policy of isolation, while 
difficult to maintain in the event of war, may 
be practicable. It is wise and desirable only if 
the United States is convinced that there is no 
hope of preventing war and never will be any 
such hope. On this assumption it is probably 
wise and feasible for the United States to re- 
main aloof. But in so doing the people and 
Government should not overlook the fact that 
they will suffer from the indirect consequences 
of another world war even if they escape the 
direct ones. 



Personally, I believe this policy is a counsel 
of despair and hopelessness, and I do not ap- 
prove of it. Nor do I agree with the arguments 
so often used in condemning the League be- 
cause of the nature of its personnel, member- 
ship, and control. Certainly self-interest 
motivates the policies of its members, but of 
what human institution is that not true? To 
expect that it or international society will be 
different or better at some other time, presum- 
ably after the next war, is childish as well as 
foolish and completely overlooks the experi- 
ence taught us by Paris and Versailles. 

If we are really interested in peace, in the 
prevention of war, we must take human na- 
ture and human institutions exactly as we 
find them here and now, and make the best of 
them within the limits of our intelligence and 
ability. If we are not interested in the preven- 
tion of war then isolation by all means. 

AND here is the opinion of another 
prominent educator, Dean Edwin Watts 
Chubb of Ohio University: 

While I am not as enthusiastic a supporter 
of the League of Nations as I was several 
years ago, yet I recognize that it is the greatest 
organization assembled for the promotion of 
peace. It is the best clearing house that we have 
for world opinion. It furnishes a body of well- 
established international usages and methods 
of procedure. It also gives an opportunity for 
the smaller states to become vocal. Unfortu- 
nately the strength of the League for coopera- 
tive action is weakened by the absence of such 
countries as Germany, Japan, and the United 
States. Nations like individuals seem to be 
inherently selfish, and it likely will take a 
long process of evolution before a national un- 

selfishness can be established as a national 
virtue. While the League has failed to stop the 
aggressions of Japan and Italy, it has con- 
demned both as aggressors and has stopped 
several incipient wars between minor nations. 
As to neutrality: I believe the United States 
should use every method possible to maintain 
a neutral position when European nations are 
engaged in hostilities. We gained nothing by 
our participation in the World War and we 
have nothing to gain in a future war. The man 
who minds his own business has a good steady 
occupation. We have enough business at home 
to occupy us as a nation without helping to 
settle the quarrels of others. 

IN THE LETTERS presented above, the 
view which strongly favors the League of 
Nations and deprecates the United States' 
failure to support the League by joining 
it and cooperating with it appears to 
predominate. Other letters of the same 
general character, though each containing 
some special feature of interest, will be 
published in succeeding numbers of The 
Living Age. Meanwhile, the editors will 
welcome communications from readers on 
these and related topics. We agree with 
President Buell of the Foreign Policy 
Association that it is not unlikely that the 
present year will witness a real crisis in 
world affairs. Too much light may not be 
thrown upon nor may there be too much 
intelligent discussion of all phases of the 
subjects included in the present sym- 
posium, and for this reason, and within 
reasonable bounds, the columns of The 
Living Age are opened wide. 


l\S ITS name indicates, the Committee 
on Militarism in Education (2929 Broad- 
way, New York, N. Y.) is an organization 
formed to oppose military training in 
public secondary schools and compulsory 
enrollment in military training units in 
civil institutions of college and university 
grade. As a substitute for military train- 
ing it seeks to promote the establishment 
of modern physical education and citizen- 
ship training courses. Founded ten years 
ago, the Committee has carried on count- 
less studies of military training in our 
schools and colleges, has vigorously op- 
posed all efforts to extend military training 
in this country, and by propaganda and 
lobbying has sought to have compulsory 
military training abolished wherever there 
was any hope of doing so. Among its most 
recent activities has been its opposition 
to the War Department's program for 
expansion of the Reserve Officers Training 
Corps and to military training in the Civil- 
ian Conservation Corps. It supports stu- 
dents in their fight against military train- 
ing and carries on extensive propaganda 
against it. 

Though it has a little more money to 
spend today, the Committee on Militarism 
in Education still resembles very closely 
a description of it which was printed in 
Harper's Magazine a few years ago : ' There 
is that comparative ragamuffin, the Com- 
mittee on Militarism in Education, which 
consists, for working purposes, of two 
young men in a dilapidated back-room 
furnished with chairs that must be sat on 
carefully lest they fall apart; budget, 
|8,ooo, and they're lucky if they get it; 
luncheons, if any, fifty cent ones, Dutch 
treat. Yet all over the country the mili- 
tary propagandists are constantly har- 
assed by this Committee and unquestion- 
ably would like to put a bounty on the 
heads of the two young men.' 

One of the most recent activities of the 

Committee has been to conduct a nation- 
wide contest in editorial writing for 
college students on the subject 'Why 
Congress Should Pass the Nye-Kvale 
Amendment' to the National Defense 
Act. This amendment would prohibit 
compulsory military training in civil 
schools and colleges. 

THE Foreign Policy Association (8 West 
40 Street, New York) announces that the 
entire first edition of its report on Japan's 
Trade Boom: Does it Menace the United 
States? by T. A. Bisson, was sold out 
within a month of publication. The 
pamphlet gives the latest statistics on 
Japanese-American trade, together with a 
discussion of their meaning, and concludes 
that Japanese competition is not a menace 
to American markets. A second edition 
has been issued. 

THE World Peace Foundation (40 Mount 
Vernon Street, Boston) has recently added 
to the growing number of its excellent 
'World Affairs Books' a study of Latin 
America by Stephen Duggan, Director of 
the Institute of International Education. 
The pamphlet skillfully reduces to brief 
compass the essential facts of South 
American geography, history, social in- 
stitutions, politics, and economics. 

ANOTHER recent publication on Latin 
America is The United States and the 
Dominican Republic, by Elizabeth W. 
Loughran and the Latin America Com- 
mittee of the Catholic Association for 
International Peace (13 12 Massachusetts 
Avenue N. W., Washington, D. C). This 
pamphlet, which is one of a series on Latin 
American relations, describes the events 
which led to our military occupation of 
the Dominican Republic from 19 16 to 
1922 and considers the results of that 





OUR story this month is by Norah 
Hoult, an Irish writer who has published 
several successful novels, including 
Time, Gentlemen, Time!, Touth Can't Be 
Served, and Holy Ireland. In addition 
to writing novels and short stories, Miss 
Hoult does literary criticisms for the 
Dublin Review, Time and Tide, and 
other papers, [p. 241] 

THE subject of Britain's Betting Busi- 
ness is that 'commercialized exploita- 
tion of human folly,' that 'small man's 
reaction to a drab environment' the 
betting pool. The English lower classes 
have been inveterate gamblers for small 
stakes for generations, but it is only 
since the War that the practice has 
assumed the proportions of a major in- 
dustry. The Economist's article analyzes 
this industry thoroughly, and reaches 
some startling conclusions about it. 
Ip. 250] 

THIS month's 'Persons' include Chan- 
cellor Schuschnigg of Austria, presented 
by a conservative Frenchman [p. 225]; 

Charles Maurras of the Action Fran- 
(aise [p. 231]; and Marshal Tukhachev- 
ski of the Soviet Red Army [p. 234]. 

AMONG the reviewers of ' Books Abroad ' 
this month are Harold J. Laski, professor 
of political science at the University of 
London and author of numerous books on 
government and politics; Kurt von Stut- 
terheim, one of the Berliner Ta^eblatt's 
London correspondents; and Otto Zarek, 
a German novelist and Dramaturg now 
living in exile. 

AND our own reviewers include Frederick 
V. Field, secretary of the American Coun- 
cil of the Institute of Pacific Relations and 
editor of the Economic Handbook 0/ the 
Pacific Area; Walter Consuelo Langsam, 
professor of modern European history 
at Columbia University and author of 
The World since 19 14; William Harlan 
Hale, until recently of the sta.ff of Fortune 
magazine and now writing a novel; Joseph 
Barnes, of the New York Herald Trib- 
une, editor of the symposium Empire 0/ 
the East; T. A. Bisson, Far Eastern expert 
of the Foreign Policy Association; and 
Harold Ward, a frequent contributor to 
The Living Age and other magazines. 



for June ^ 1936 


America's Crisis Andri Siegfried 290 

And Quiet Flows the Rhine 

I. Germany's War Machine General X 301 

II. Business As Usual Paul Allard 307 

III. A Conversation in Cologne Max Rychner 311 

An English Miscellany 

I. Inside the ^een Mary Clir^e Bell 329 

II. The Conspiracy of the Dwarfs Osbert Sitwell 332 

III. 'They' 334 

IV. The Intelligence of Cats Michael Joseph 336 

Seaside (Verse) JV.H. Auden 339 

Mr. Szabo (A Story) Zsuzsa 7*. Thury 340 


The World Over 283 

Persons and Personages 

Marshal Badoglio, Conqueror of Ethiopia 317 

Dr. Hugo Eckener: Zeppelin's Apostle H. R. 320 

Karlis Ulmanis, Latvia's Dictator Rene Puaux 323 

The Versatility of Mr. Lubitsch 325 

Who is Ribbentrop? 328 

Letters and the Arts Ruth Norden 344 

As Others See Us 348 

Books Abroad 350 

Our Own Bookshelf 2^2 

America and the League 369 

{With the Organizations 375 

Tb^ng Age. Published monthly. Publication ofBce, 10 Ferry Street, Concord, N. H. Editorial and General offices, 253 Broad- 
wajw York City. SOc a copy. $6.00 a year. Canada. $6.50. Foreign, $7.00. Entered as second-class matter at the Post Office at 
Coj. N. H., under the Act of Congress, March 3. 1879. Copyright, 1936, by The Livmg Age Corporation, New York. New York. 

Ttf NG Age was established by E. Littell. in Boston. Massachusetts, May, 1844. It was first known as Littell's Living Age, suc- 
cei'iuell's Museum of Foreign Literature, which had been previously published in Philadelphia for more than twenty years. In a 
prfcation announcement of Littell's Living Age, in 1844, Mr. Littell said: ' The steamship has brought Europe, Asia, and Africa 
injneighborhood ; and will greatly multiply our connections, as -Merchants, Travelers, and Politicians, with all parts of the world: 
sof^^ch more than ever, it now becomes every intelligent American to be informed of the condition and changes of foreign countries.' 

S jers are requested to send notices of changes of address three weeks before they are to take effect. Failure to send such notlcea 
w lit in the incorrect forwarding of the next copy and delay in its receipt. Old and new addresses must both be given. 


KJF THE comparatively small number of 
European scholars whose names have at- 
tained a wide currency outside their na- 
tive countries, one of the best known is 
certainly Andre Siegfried. Professor at the 
College de France and author of numerous 
books, including England's Crisis and 
America Comes of Age, Mr. Siegfried has 
commanded large audiences in both Eng- 
land and the United States. A few months 
ago he paid a visit to these shores, and 
upon his return to France he wrote for the 
Revue des Deux Mondes an extended dis- 
cussion of the causes and consequences of 
our present economic recovery as he saw 
them. Under the title of 'America's 
Crisis' we translate the greater and to 
Americans the more interesting part of 
this discussion, [p. 290] 

THE section which follows Mr. Sieg- 
fried's article consists of three French 
views of Germany. In the first of them an 
anonymous General reports the results of a 
survey of the German 'military poten- 
tial': in case of war, will her available 
supplies of raw materials enable her to 
continue fighting in the face of possible 
sanctions and blockades, or will her ' home 
front' collapse as soon as her reserve 
stocks are exhausted? On the answer to 
this question, which is given without 
equivocation in the article, the fate of all 
Europe may someday depend, [p. 301] 

IN THE second article of this group, a 
French journalist who has done much 
good work in the field returns to the sub- 
ject of the 'arms international.' Regular 
readers of The Living Age will recall the 
Briey basin scandal, which we brought to 
the attention of the American public some 
years ago. The Briey basin is an area rich 
in iron ore. It lies south of Luxembourg 
and west of the Saar. During the war it 
was, of course, behind the German lines. 

and consequently it served as one c the 
Central Powers' chief sources of iron The 
French might easily have bombed i and 
thus have shortened the war. But they 
never even attempted to do so beause, 
it is said, the mines belonged t the 
Comite des Forges, which did not wnt to 
have its property injured, and was pwer- 
ful enough in French Government ^rcles 
to see that it was not injured, whtever 
the cost, in human lives, of keepg it 

However that may be, today thBriey 
basin is again a part of France; anct still 
belongs to the Comite des ForgesBusi- 
ness there has been more than ually 
brisk of late. Mr. Allard tells why. . 307] 

AND in chapter three a Swiss joualist, 
Dr. Max Rychner, meets a Frenman 
visiting Cologne and reports his nsive 
reflections on the essential similty of 
the heavy, plodding and somewl: hu- 
morless Germans and the unsysnatic 
and volatile French, [p. 311] 

NEXT we have a group of foiehort 
pieces from England. In the first them 
Mr. Clive Bell, the well-known arritic, 
makes some rather caustic co.ients 
about the interior decorations the 
^ueen Mary. By way of a footnoto his 
remarks, we print the following fn the 
New Statesman and Nation: 

'As long ago as April, 1935, M3un- 
can Grant was commissioned the 
Cunard Company not only to paiieco- 
rations for the lounge, but to desig car- 
pet and textiles for the upholstervfter 
consultation with the company's a;tect 
he accepted. In the middle of last smer 
he submitted sketches, which wi cri- 
ticized, discussed and approved, the 
autumn, when the decorations theives 
were nearly complete, the compan^de 
{Continued on page jy6) 


Founded by E. Littell 

In 1844 

June, igj6 Volume J50, Number 44^'/ 

The World Over 

IVlUSSOLINrS victory in Ethiopia marks, principally, the close of a 
chapter in British foreign policy. During the past year two rival groups 
in the British Cabinet have been pulling in opposite directions and creat- 
ing a deadlock which the new rearmament program brings to an end. 
The group represented by Anthony Eden has tried to use the League of 
Nations to defend British imperial interests both in Africa and Europe. 
The group represented by Sir Samuel Hoare has not hesitated to use the 
popularity of the League with the British electorate to advance the 
cause of the Conservative party at the polls while at the same time they 
were seeking to break away from the League. The Eden group empha- 
sized the importance of the League as the chief prop of the status quo 
and exaggerated the Italian threat to British interests because they 
feared the German threat at some future date and wanted to strengthen 
the prestige of the League at the expense of Italy. But the anti-League 
faction not only distrusted the League; they favored Italy, partly be- 

|| cause Mussolini had crushed Communism, partly because he represented 

I white prestige in Africa, and partly because they hoped to gain his sup- 

I port against Hitler. 


i NOT ONLY is the British Cabinet split into pro-League and anti- 
League factions; it is also split into pro-German and anti-German 
groups. Most of the pro-League faction opposes Hitler and believes that 
Re will threaten the peace and British interests before Communist Rus- 

[284] THE LIVING AGE June 

sia does. Most of the anti-League group, on the other hand, favors an 
understanding with Hitler and believes in giving him a free hand against 
the U. S. S. R., Austria and Czechoslovakia. But the Labor Party, which 
advocated oil sanctions against Italy, urges reconciliation with Germany, 
while some of the Die-Hard Conservatives, such as Churchill and the 
Chamberlains, who never demanded Mussolini's scalp, fear Berlin more 
than they do Moscow. 

Events in Africa have settled the League controversy: henceforth 
Britain will act alone. The sanctionists and the anti-sanctionists, the 
pro-Italians and the anti-Italians, the pro-Leaguers and the anti- 
Leaguers have all been liquidated. Henceforth the chief question con- 
fronting British foreign policy will be Germany. 

It is too early to announce that the anti-German clique has carried 
the day. J. L. Garvin, editor of the Observer^ who defended Mussolini's 
course, now pleads for an understanding with Hitler significantly 
enough, in Western Europe only. Mr. Garvin speaks for important ele- 
ments in the Conservative Party and carries weight. There is also a 
considerable body of pacifist Labor opinion which believes that Germany 
has just grievances and which distrusts Communism in any shape or 
form. But the London Economist^ speaking for the more progressive 
Conservatives in the financial district, has been emphasizing Germany's 
contempt for British vacillations and the desire of the Dominions for a 
strong foreign policy. Its Berlin correspondent writes: 

Being themselves given to posing as more valiant than they really are, German 
rulers do not understand the Hamlet-like sighs of London that the world is out of 
joint and that tame Great Britain is merely the virtuous and despairing onlooker; 
and they have grounds for smiling when a British Prime Minister, in order to ob- 
scure a war-scandal in which the anti-German Powers are the culprits, informs the 
world that it is Herr Hider who can best achieve pacification. They have very 
good reasons for concluding that Great Britain is afraid to fight for her own, not 
to mention the collective, interest; and while they would admit that this is a re- 
assuring, if a novel, condition in British history, they ask why, such being the 
shameful case, Great Britain expanded the purely local Abyssinian dispute in 
order to bring peril on herself and to set Europe by the ears. 

An editorial in the same journal concludes as follows: 

In fine, the British Empire cannot survive if the United Kingdom persists in 
the policy, laid down by Mr. Baldwin's Government, that we will not take the 
initiative in the international crisis. A heritage of greatness cannot be repudiated 
with impunity. For the English in 1936, 'a craven fear of being great' means 
national suicide. 

SOURCES inside Germany speak with more authority and sometimes 
with more deadly effect than emigres concerning what goes on behind 
the Nazi dictatorship. The Statistical Year Book for 1935, for example. 

1^3,6 THE WORLD OVER [285] 

shows that during 1933, the latest year for which figures are available, 
nearly 19,000 people committed suicide and that nea^rly 16,000 others 
fell victims to * unspecified or insufficiently explained causes of death.' 
During 1933, too, 1698 people were found guilty of high treason as com- 
pared with 230 the year before, and over 7700 individuals were found 
guilty in regular courts of political crimes that did not even figure on 
the statute books in 1932. 

Figures on military and naval expenses are more up-to-date but less 
specific. During the fiscal year of 1934-35 armament and propaganda 
expenses ate up approximately half the national budget. Since then, the 
need for raw materials has overshadowed even the financial difficulties. 
Today aluminum from the Balkans and stainless or galvanized steel, 
domestically produced, are replacing copper, which is no longer used for 
roofing, cooking and serving utensils m homes and factories, nor for 
many electrical appliances. Bergius, who discovered how to extract oil 
from coal, is still experimenting, and other scientists have developed 
synthetic rubber. Their products not only cost more to produce and 
function less efficiently than the real thing; they are manufactured in a 
few factories. In the event of war a few successful air-raids could put 
Germany's sources of substitute materials out of business and cripple 
the nation more in a week than the submarine campaign crippled Eng- 
land in a year. In view of all these factors, only the most desperate 
domestic crisis would persuade Hitler to resort to war in the near future. 

THE ELEVATION OF GORING to the post of economic dictator 
which Dr. Schacht used to occupy constitutes, among other things, a 
victory for those who want to devalue the mark and produce an infla- 
tionary boom. Indeed the Berlin stock market was anticipating devalua- 
tion before Schacht 's prestige received its sudden jolt. On the day that 
German troops marched into the Rhineland, stock prices actually rose, 
and, although they sagged during the ensuing week, within a month they 
had advanced again. The issues most in demand, however, were not 
armament shares, which would naturally profit from military construc- 
tion in the Rhineland area, but the hitherto neglected industries ^public 
utilities, potash companies, and textiles. For the tendency has arisen in 
recent weeks to invest money in sound companies and real estate and to 
get rid of bonds and cash a sure sign of inflation ahead. 

Meanwhile the Frankfurter Zeitung has been conducting a private 
inquiry into the profit-earning capacity of German industry between 
1932, the depth of the depression, and 1935. It finds that hourly wage- 
rates have declined 5 per cent while total payments in salaries and wages 
have risen 21 per cent. Prices of home-produced raw materials have ad- 
vanced 38 per cent, and of imported raw materials 13 per cent. Industrial 

[286] THE LIVING AGE June 

output has risen 64 per cent but output of consumers' goods has ad- 
vanced only 14 per cent, while production of new plant equipment (pro- 
duction goods) has advanced 113 per cent. Profits have mounted 23 per 
cent. Unemployment continues to fall and stood at just under two mil- 
lion in March, 1936, as compared with almost two and a half million the 
year before. 

THE COLLAPSE of the Phoenix Insurance Company of Austria 
parallels the collapse of the Credit Anstalt, which preceded it by almost 
exactly five years. In both cases high officials committed suicide; in both 
cases important political maneuvers followed a private business scandal. 
The collapse of the Credit Anstalt led to the bank failures in Germany 
and to the fall of the pound. The collapse of the Phoenix Insurance Com- 
pany prepares the way for Hitler to destroy Austrian independence 
with the aid of Prince Starhemberg and his private army, the Heimwehr. 
Jubilant dispatches in the Nazi press and alarmist reports in Communist 
organs indicate that Nazi influence, working in collaboration with 
Starhemberg against Chancellor Schuschnigg, dynamited the Phoenix 
Company and tried to blame the failure on Jewish members of the firm. 
The stage was set for a second Stavisky aflFair and a Fascist coup d'etat^ 
such as nearly occurred in France after the riots of February, 1934. 

The Nazis and Starhemberg planned to strike while Schuschnigg 
was visiting Prague and Rome, but he balked their plans by rushing 
back to Vienna with proof that leaders of Starhemberg's Heimwehr 
troops had taken bribes from the Phoenix. He then discomfited them 
further by introducing conscription. This move, however, had wider 
implications than the Phoenix affair. It was decided upon in Rome, where 
Schuschnigg, who takes orders from Mussolini, agreed not to throw in 
his lot with the Little Entente. Meanwhile Starhemberg remains the 
man to watch as Hitler's probable under-cover man in the Austrian 

THE EXPERIENCE of Belgium since its currency was devalued in 
March, 1935, shows what advocates of a similar course in France may 
expect. Back in 1926 the Belgians stabilized their franc at a lower level 
than the French franc, and within ten years both countries were talking 
further devaluation. While France continued to talk, Belgium acted, 
and within a year considerable recovery had occurred. Interest rates 
have dropped; bond prices as well as stock prices have risen; exports in- 
creased 19 per cent in quantity and imports 7 per cent. Between March, 
1935, and January, 1936, wholesale prices had risen 25 per cent, which is 
less than the proportion of currency devaluation. The cost of living 
mounted 13 per cent, while wages, as usual, lagged behind, the pay of 

/pjd THE WORLD OVER [287] 

civil servants having increased only 3 per cent. But from the point of 
view of the propertied classes and their economic system devaluation 
has proved a blessing. Electrical output has risen 20 per cent, coal pro- 
duction 13 per cent, and most of the basic Belgian industries, including 
steel, have recorded similar progress. The most important index of 
all employment ^has risen too. 

SPAIN'S BALEARIC ISLANDS, once the last refuge of American 
fugitives from vulgarity, have become a center of international intrigue. 
No less than eleven million pounds, not accounted for either in the Span- 
ish or the local budget, have gone into secret fortifications, consisting of 
British guns which arrive on British ships under the supervision of 
British officers. A year ago the Majorcan police arrested one of these 
officers, a certain Captain Kame, and when the Madrid government 
ordered his release, the Majorcans threatened to tell what he was doing. 
Lord Beaverbrook's Daily Express, which had sent a lawyer to defend 
the incarcerated captain, fell strangely silent at the same time. British 
money has also deepened the harbor at Port Mahon and presumably 
pays the upkeep of four Spanish submarines and four cruisers which 
have been sent to protect the Balearic Islands, although the naval budget 
does not provide for their expenses. 

The general purpose of these activities is, of course, to protect the 
Mediterranean trade route from England to India. But they also have a 
specific aim. In recent months Italy has been equipping the little island 
of Pantellaria, sixty miles from Sicily and fifty miles from Tunis, with 
guns which enable it to command the sea route on either side. Pantellaria 
has become a stationary, unsinkable battleship of rock, virtually im- 
pregnable to attack and without any inconvenient civilian population. 
Thus, if Italy can block England's route to India from Pantellaria, 
England can block Italy's route to the Atlantic from the Balearic Islands. 

GIOVANNI GIGLIO, Rome correspondent of the Laborite Daily 
Herald of London, has a low opinion of Mussolini and the Ethiopian 
war. Because he allowed his views to creep into his dispatches, the 
authorities ejected him from the country. Once out he told all. Not only 
are the war and the regime unpopular among the Italian masses; they 
'understand' that, win or lose, Italy's export trade will be 'negligible' 
for 'the next twenty years at least.' This preposterous statement lays 
some of Mr. Giglio's other excursions into the field of wishful thinking 
open to question; but there seems to be no reason to doubt that the 
prices of oil, sugar, coflFee, butter, bacon, codfish, fruit, and vegetables 
doubled during the first four months of 1936. Here is his interpretation 
of the League's failure to apply oil sanctions against Italy: 

[288] THE LIVING AGE June 

Everybody realized that if the Italian War Office could no longer receive its 
oil supplies from abroad, Badoglio's army of 300,000 men in Abyssinia would be 
forced in a few months to suspend hostilities. 

As usual, Mussolini played his trump card, namely, bluff. 

He first ordered the Ministry of Press and Propaganda to circulate the rumor 
that if the oil sanction was applied, Italy would walk out of the League. 

This rumor was later denied in reply to inquiries by one or two foreign cor- 
respondents, but its place was taken by the story that Italy would retaliate with 
denouncing the agreement signed by Mussolini and Laval in Rome in February, 

When Mussolini was sure, by flying these and similar kites, that the French 
Government was scared, he called the French Ambassador in Rome, and asked 
him to inform Laval that Italy would regard oil sanctions as an act of 'profound 
enmity' which would lead to 'grave complications' in Europe. 

Whether Laval saw through Mussolini's bluff or not, he convinced 
Sir Samuel Hoare that the Duce meant business. The rest is history. 

JAPAN TODAY offers many parallels with Germany in 191 4. Both 
countries had doubled their populations and industrialized themselves 
in less than a century; in both countries the birth rate was declining, 
although the population continued to rise. Professor Teijiro Uyeda of 
the Tokyo University of Commerce takes this comparison as the text of a 
sermon urging his country to make bilateral trade agreements and to 
avoid the free trade doctrines of nineteenth century England and the 
gospel of self-sufficiency preached in the Third Reich. Between 1920 
and 1930 the proportion of Japanese supported by agriculture fell from 
50 per cent to 45 per cent, and Professor Uyeda estimates that between 
1930 and 1950 the number of Japanese able to engage in productive 
labor will increase by 10 millions. He insists that his country's statesmen 
take an international view of their economic problems: 

To take wool, for instance: Japan imports it from Australia to the value of 150 
million yen a year. In order to obtain this much wool, 30 million head of an im- 
proved species of sheep would be required. It would be the height of absurdity to 
imagine that so much wool-bearing livestock can ever be raised in Mahchuria and 
Mongolia. Things are similar with regard to other raw materials. 

From this point of view it may be said that Japanese industry exists on a life- 
line extending from Texas out to British India and Australia. With regard to ex- 
port markets for Japanese manufactures, they are so "widely distributed over the 
world that it is out of the question to try to concentrate them in Asia. Nobody 
would ever think of selling as much silk to China as Japan is selling to the United 
States. Such being the state of affairs, the industrialization which Japan is bound 
to accomplish as an inevitable sequel of her problems can never be possible except 
on broad international lines. It is therefore more comprehensible that Japan today 
turns back to the principle of free trade. 

He does not, however, urge the old fashioned free-trade policy that 

/pjd THE WORLD OVER [289] 

Secretary Hull has imposed on the United States; rather does he urge 
bilateral agreements, such as George Peek vainly advocated, to exchange 
one surplus for another. Japan and India worked out an agreement to 
exchange raw cotton and textiles on this basis, and Professor Uyeda 
wants more arrangements of the same kind. 

A. E. BLANCO, director of the Anti-Opium Information Bureau in 
Geneva, has written an article for the Nationalist People* s Tribune of 
Nanking, revealing the extent of the drug traffic in China. He recalls a 
Chinese Government Report of 1928 stating that i million of the 11 
million inhabitants of Shansi Province were drug addicts and spent 
Jioo,ooo,ooo a year in Chinese currency on narcotics. Since 1928 drug 
consumption has increased throughout China, especially in the areas 
occupied by the Japanese, who are systematically doping millions of 
Chinese with legalized narcotics. Mr. Blanco quotes official figures to the 
effect that there are 210,000 addicts in Manchukuo as compared with 
120,000 in the United States. 

These addicts do not belong to the well-to-do classes. Heroin, the 
cheapest and most efficacious drug, has dropped steadily in price, and 
Mr. Blanco reports that when he was in Harbin it was * a daily occur- 
rence ' for him ' to pass on the way to my office the bodies of three or four 
coolies, whose resistance had been undermined by drugs, and who had 
paid the penalty with their life.' The International Labor Office also 
states that opium smoking 'is most widespread among workers in the 
most arduous occupations.' 

WHEN THE DELHI CORRESPONDENT of the London rimes de- 
votes a whole column to the prospects of Socialism in India and then 
writes daily accounts of the disputes over Socialism in the all-powerful 
Congress Party, one suspects that India is entering a pre-revolutionary 
period. Today Socialists claim that they represent one third of the 
Congress Party; certainly they are strong at the top, for Pandit Jar- 
waharlal Nehru, President of the Congress Party, now tells his followers 
that * the only solution of India's problems lies in socialism, involving 
vast revolutionary changes in the political and social structure and end- 
ing vested interests in land and industry.' But Nehru agrees with the 
more moderate members of the Congress Party that nationalism must 
corne first; and, since the Party derives much of its income from rich 
Indians who want only to be free of English rule, no immediate uprisings 
should be expected. As for Gandhi, the man who persuaded Hindus and 
Moslems to work together in the Congress Party, he devotes himself 
entirely to organizing the peasants, improving their economic condition, 
and destroying some of their superstitions. 

A famous French economist, of decidedly 
conservative leanings, gives his views 
on 'recovery' in these United States. 


By Andr Siegfried 

Translated from the Revue des Deux MonJes, Paris 
Conservative Bi-Monthly 


-HERE is no denying that a busi- 
ness recovery has been in progress for 
several months in the United States. 
Certain qualified observers claim that 
it has been increasingly apparent 
since the end of 1934. Last summer 
and autumn the automobile industry 
showed steady signs of revival; it 
could be felt in the air of Detroit, 
air charged with economic oxygen. In 
the West, farmers helped by the Gov- 
ernment's agricultural policy (the 
famous AAA, since invalidated by the 
Supreme Court) sell their products at 
better prices than they have fetched 
for a long time, spend more liberally, 
and declare themselves satisfied with 
the situation. Wherever one turns, it 
is easy to see signs of growing activity. 
Wall Street records, or perhaps antici- 
pates, the activity by a rise, doubtless 
speculative in a sense and perhaps 
tainted by a sort of financial distrust, 
but still by a persistent rise in prices. 
The index number of seventy selected 
industries, which stood at 126 in June, 
1934, had risen to 136 by December, 

1935. In short, the past year shows 
more definite signs of recovery than 
have ever been observed during the 
somber hours of the crisis. The Federal 
Reserve Board's figures show that in- 
dustrial production in 1935 surpassed 
that of 1934 by 13 per cent. By com- 
parison with the low-water mark of 
1932, American industrial progress 
can be estimated at approximately 60 
per cent, which means that almost 
one-half of the ground lost since 1929, 
the record year, has been recovered. 

These are the facts, the famous 
'facts and figures' without which an 
American never feels entirely at ease 
in an argument. But apart from these 
figures, which we could continue to 
cite almost indefinitely, the national 
psychology reflects important changes. 
It is not that Americans beheve that 
prosperity has returned; but they 
would not be surprised to see it coming 
'around the corner,' according to the 
well-known formula. America, though 
still distrustful, and still shaken, is be- 
ginning to be herself again, that is, 



optimistic. Nothing so far has really 
changed our America ! 

This is the superficial impression 
one receives almost everywhere. Let 
us try to discover what this impression 
is based upon. This is the essential 
problem we must solve, since it is 
possible that this recovery might 
prove to be only a flash in the pan. 
The impression may, however, corre- 
spond to a profound change in the 
general economic trend and conse- 
quently mean a real improvement, one 
which is destined to endure. 

The trade revival now in progress in 
the United States originates, at least 
partially, in the Government's sys- 
tematically spendthrift policy, which 
may be seen in the failure to balance 
the budget. The accumulated deficit 
of the last four years amounts to 13 
billion dollars. This deficit continues 
and doubtless will continue for a long 
time, if one may judge by the gigantic 
expenditures promised, demanded, and 
suggested on all sides. The uncertain 
effects of the AAA have provided the 
farmers with a vast purchasing power 
in the form of innumerable checks. 
The policy of public works, whose 
tempo has been considerably acceler- 
ated, extends subsidies, salaries, and 
benefits to every part of the country. 
Finally Congress has placed in the 
hands of one man, the President, the 
extraordinary power of spending as he 
deems best the enormous, astronomi- 
cal sum of 4,800 million dollars, a sum 
so huge that its dimensions can hardly 
be conceived, so great that even the 
Government seems to feel some em- 
barrassment in utilizing it. 

In traveling through the country 
one gets the impression that every- 
thing possible has been done to get rid 
of this sum, though not with constant 

success. Any demand for money, no 
matter for whom or for what purpose, 
can reasonably expect a favorable re- 
ception. It has thus actually been pos- 
sible to carry out the most useless and 
unnecessary work projects. In these 
circumstances one need not be sur- 
prised to see the amount of money in 
circulation; and the effect of this cir- 
culation on both purchases and sales 
creates a part, probably an important 
one, of that economic activity we have 
observed. Make no mistake: it is this 
policy, inspired by the doctrine of 
Government intervention in economic 
processes, which supports the eco- 
nomic recovery. 

It is a singular fact that the plat- 
form of the Democratic Party in 1932 
included as one of its planks the bal- 
ancing of the budget and the curtail- 
ing of expenditures, in short, a re- 
trenchment in the true Glads toni an 
manner. Nevertheless this inundation 
of credits, subsidies, premiums, in- 
demnities, relief, and economic stimu- 
lants of all kinds characterizes more 
than anything else President Roose- 
velt's policy, and is an element in his 
program which public opinion accepts 
very readily. It has taken the Su- 
preme Court's condemnation of that 
immense structure of laws, decrees 
and codes, which was the NRA, with 
hardly a murmur; without any spe- 
cially vehement protests public opin- 
ion permitted that Court to disavow 
the AAA; but it is unlikely that it 
would support quite so cheerfully the 
abandonment of a financial policy 
consisting of countless expenditures. 
Under these conditions the Govern- 
ment, with the Presidential elections 
only a few months ahead, finds itself 
more or less obliged to leave the tap 
running. Even if the Administration 




were dismayed by the proportions of 
this budgetary orgy, neither the 
House of Representatives nor the Sen- 
ate could reasonably be expected to 
have the same scruples, since their 
constituents are today, as always, 
convinced that America is a continent 
of 'unlimited resources' and that the 
United States Treasury is bottomless. 


To obtain these fabulous sums, the 
Government must resort to constant 
borrowing. The budget is not bal- 
anced, and there is no possibility of 
balancing it, for the amount of money 
required by the program cannot be 
collected by taxation. It is a state of 
things similar to a wartime mobiliza- 
tion of all resources to one end, with 
the hope of readjustment when the 
crisis is past. The extreme ease with 
which the Government finds all the 
money it needs is remarkable. Borrow- 
ing passes almost unnoticed because it 
is so easy; the vast sums come, not 
from the public, but from the banks, 
and because of the abundance of bank 
deposits the rate of interest remains 
extremely low: less than yi per cent 
for short term loans, i>^ per cent to 
if^ per cent for medium term loans, 
and less than 3 per cent for long term 

A European's common sense tells 
him that lack of confidence, and then 
panic, are bound to be the natural, 
inescapable results of a policy which 
laughs at balanced budgets and seems 
to possess, from the point of view of 
economic wisdom, a certain aura of 
immorality. But the experience of the 
past months proves that the Govern- 
ment's borrowing capacity is far from 
being exhausted. Despite a public debt 

which has grown from I9>^ billions in 
1932 to 30 billions today, and which 
will doubtless reach 35 billion dollars 
tomorrow, America, as contrasted 
with Europe, retains so great a margin 
of security that nobody feels any need 
to fear. After a few months in the at- 
mosphere of the New World, a Euro- 
pean critic loses all sense of propor- 
tion; he becomes American-minded, 
which means that he finds himself 
thinking that what would prove fatal 
in the Old World can do no harm to 
the New. He knows that a man of 
sixty must take better care of himself 
than a lad of twenty needs to. 

Let us try to analyze the actual re- 
sults of this policy of deliberate and 
chronic disequilibrium. When the Gov- 
ernment borrows, credit is given to it 
in one of the banks, and through this 
credit the Government distributes 
checks to the recipients of its bounty. 
These beneficiaries, who are innumer- 
able, spend this money, and at last the 
money comes back to the bank in the 
form of constantly accruing deposits. 
We had this cycle in France on the eve 
of the War. It does not really mean 
monetary inflation but rather credit 
inflation. If it does not actually create 
purchasing power out of nothing, it 
nevertheless amounts almost to the 
same thing. 

It is important to remember that 
this potential inflation is being im- 
posed upon a country which is still in 
the state of deflation that was so ir- 
resistible and general at the beginning 
of 1933. It is essential to remember 
this, and to keep in mind the existence 
of a gold reserve which, being natu- 
rally subject to continuous fluctua- 
tions, had risen to 10 billion dollars by 
the end of 1935, and which may be a 
basis for a new and formidable expan- 




sion of credit, as some fear. These la- 
tent resources, however, are today- 
still in excess of the real needs of the 
country, and it is safe to say that the 
country seems neither desirous nor 
capable of absorbing or using them. 
The fact that loans extended to com- 
mercial enterprises show no increase is 
very significant. Many businesses in 
good financial order seem able to take 
care of their expenditures for equip- 
ment from their own reserves. Besides, 
a good share of speculation on the ex- 
change is done by foreigners who 
carry on their operations by importing 
gold. It is not correct to say that there 
is no credit policy; this credit exists, 
but it comes from the Government it- 
self rather than through the medium 
of private enterprise. 

Thus we are forced to the conclusion 
that the recovery, in so far as it is the 
result of a financial policy, is an arti- 
ficial phenomenon. It cannot endure 
longer than the tempo of Govern- 
mental expenditures can be main- 
tained, and this tempo cannot be kept 
up unless borrowing remains a com- 
paratively easy process. 

For the time being the Government 
has no tremors about its continued 
ability to borrow. But the needs of the 
Treasury are far from lessening; they 
must, on the contrary, increase. Con- 
gress has recently voted veteran's 
bonuses which will cost 2 billion dol- 
lars. And who can guarantee that the 
Townsend Plan will not be adopted by 
the House of Representatives under 
the pressure of a well-organized lobby } 
If this occurs, the number of billions 
to be disbursed will defy the imagina- 

There are indeed some clear-headed 
men who tremble when they envisage 
these possibilities, which seem to be 

only a product of our imagination and 
which nevertheless can very well be- 
come a reality one of these days. This 
is exactly what is being said by pru- 
dent persons who prefer to invest in 
stocks rather than in bonds because 
they fear another depreciation of the 
dollar. If the Government borrows 
mostly in short term loans, it is doubt- 
less because neither the banks nor the 
public care to lend it their capital for a 
long term. You can see that there is 
lack of confidence; but there is little 
outward sign of it, and, curiously 
enough, it exists side by side with re- 
born confidence. But the American 
habit is to have confidence in oneself 
and to distrust the Government; 
Americans have few illusions on that 
score. They summarize what is going 
on as a sort of struggle, a race between 
the wealth of the country and the 
power of that wealth to withstand this 
orgy of spending. 

If the Government should one day 
find it impossible to borrow, the conse- 
quences would be terrific, as the bank- 
ing system is inextricably connected 
with Government credit. But one does 
not think of this possibility, and much 
water will flow under many bridges 
before it will be reahzed. Meanwhile 
President Roosevelt follows Nietz- 
sche's advice: he lives dangerously. 


Here we have one aspect of the situ- 
ation. But there is another, perhaps a 
more important and at any rate a 
much more healthy one, which cer- 
tainly justifies an optimistic view. 
The Government borrows and dis- 
burses dollars by the billion without 
even seeming to do so. Yet the sums it 
expends are small in comparison with 




the enormous mass of bank deposits in 
the country. These deposits, which for 
many complex reasons are prudently 
accumulated in the banks without be- 
ing invested by them, will eventually 
be utilized and will then provide a 
firm basis for recovery. To liquefy 
these assets no artificial stimulus is 
needed, but rather a return to normal 
conditions in the economic organism. 
When such a return occurs, the natu- 
ral course of events will bear the for- 
tunes of the country on its rising tide. 
At the moment, the crisis, or depres- 
sion, as it is called in the United 
States, seems to have exhausted most 
of its effects and repercussions in the 
North American continent. The eco- 
nomic thermometer now records not 
so much the fever of inflation as the 
low temperature which follows sick- 
ness and precedes convalescence. The 
favorable counterpart of this purge is, 
we must not forget it, the correspond- 
ing disappearance of the great load of 
debt which used to burden the system. 
A host of impracticable enterprises 
has fallen; imperfect as the liquidation 
of them has been, and retarded as it 
may have been by the New Deal, it 
has nevertheless occurred. 

Against this background we see the 
outlines of many needed undertakings, 
upon which action has until now been 
deferred. During the five years of the 
depression construction has been slowed 
up, sometimes completely stopped; 
industrial equipment scantily cared 
for, rarely replaced. It is possible that 
the United States is now passing 
through a stage of industrial over- 
equipment; but from the statistical 
point of view it cannot be doubted 
that were the recovery ever so slight, 
a good part of the nation's industrial 
equipment would demand renovation ; 

and if the tempo of the recovery were 
swift, the masses of the unemployed, 
whose numbers are perhaps exagger- 
ated, would be reduced. These symp- 
toms are displayed by the departments 
of economic activity where recovery, 
due to natural causes, is about to ap- 
pear. And they are not those upon 
which most of the Governmental 
manna has been showered. 


What channels of consumption re- 
ceive the stream of money expended 
by the Government as part of its plan 
for the stimulation of the national 
economic life? It is directed less to- 
ward heavy industry than toward the 
enterprises that minister directly to 
everyday consumption. Generally speak- 
ing, it is not the heavy industries 
which have benefited by the Govern- 
mental subsidies. In the recovery 
which has been evident up to now 
these heavy industries have been 
lagging behind. The industries which 
profit by this kind of financial irriga- 
tion are of another type. According to 
a recent bulletin of the National City 
Bank the industries which are at pres- 
ent the most active include: machine 
tools, automobiles, vacuum cleaners, 
mail order sales, petroleum production, 
hosiery, and so on. This is*an interest- 
ing lesson, teaching us that a govern- 
ment may pour money into circulation 
but may be incapable of directing its 
subsidies to those points where they 
would do most good. In the opinion of 
the most reliable experts, recovery in 
the United States cannot be con- 
sidered significant and lasting until 
the day when the industries which 
produce capital goods show renewed 




How can this problem be solved? 
First of all, by taking measures that 
will lead to the investment of the 
frozen bank deposits in industries 
which are merely vegetating. Common 
sense will tell us that such investment 
will not take place until there is a hope 
of profit, and there can be little prob- 
ability of such profit unless prices can 
be lowered to a level that will stimu- 
late consumption, thus restoring to 
the masses the purchasing power they 
have lost. The Government's policy of 
intervention in industrial production 
works against this solution by main- 
taining prices on a high level. 

For these reasons the end of the 
NRA caused no discouragement, but, 
on the contrary, brought new confi- 
dence to the business world. The in- 
dustrialists and the merchants, that is 
to say the very social classes which are 
capable of contributing most directly 
to business recovery, could and did 
say to themselves after the verdict 
that the Constitution still stood as a 
bulwark of safety and that, after all, 
the principles of freedom of contract 
and free competition were still the 
foundation of the American economic 
system. The fear of another period of 
reform, in the sense of intervention- 
ism, would serve to counteract this 
lukewarm optimism. Hence the un- 
certainty, not only concerning the 
results of the coming Presidential elec- 
tion, but also about the President's 
intentions in case he is reelected, 
remains a serious obstacle to a thor- 
ough revival of economic activity. 

It is, however, easy to over-esti- 
mate the weight of any particular 
policy; the natural cyclic movement 
of the economic tides is likely to prove 
so much more important a factor than 
any policy. And it seems that the tide 

is about to turn, if it has not already 
done so without our being aware of it. 
Perhaps, when the dust of events has 
settled, we shall perceive that our so- 
called 'exceptional' economic crisis 
very much resembles other preceding 
crises, and may be assigned its place in 
the series of economic cycles. 

History teaches us that price cycles 
also exist. Just before the war we had 
a cycle of rising prices, and for the 
last fifteen years we have been sub- 
jected to an irresistible downward 
pressure which has affected the entire 
world economy without a single coun- 
try being able to escape it. Is it so un- 
reasonable to think that a rise in 
prices may now be anticipated? They 
seem to have reached their lowest 
level in 1932, and a definite increase in 
gold production can be discerned at 
the present time. These are the symp- 
toms, doubtless more important in 
their general scope than the policy of 
a President of the United States, even 
if the latter is called Roosevelt. But 
America forgets quickly: during the 
crisis she has forgotten prosperity; 
during the imminent prosperity she 
will forget even more quickly the 
crisis and the lesson it taught. 

There are two parallel kinds of re- 
covery. The first is the result of a defi- 
nite policy, the second the conse- 
quence of an economic tide which this 
policy has not occasioned nor even 
hastened. Thus two types of recovery 
are at work at the same time, their 
courses parallel to each other. The 
Governmental expenditures play the 
role of the starter which is needed to 
set the motor going; but the machine 
must have gasoline if it is to continue 




running. You could not run an auto- 
mobile with nothing but a starter, and 
that, after all, is what the President 
would be trying to do if he claimed to 
have instigated the recovery and to 
have sustained it without the condi- 
tions for its lasting and normal proc- 
esses being fulfilled. The economic 
Renaissance, once set in motion, will 
benefit most by a policy of Govern- 
mental abstention. As for the kind of 
recovery which is caused by artificial 
stimulants, it would not be able to 
continue indefinitely; the financial 
and economic disorder, which it im- 
plies, must bring about its end. Under 
these conditions, the two kinds of re- 
covery cannot exist together beyond a 
certain length of time. 

Are the principles vaunted before 
the crisis as the necessary foundation 
of the American system still being ac- 
cepted, or has the depression taught 
Americans others? During the twenty- 
five or thirty years preceding the War 
the policy pursued by the trusts in- 
cluded centralization designed to lower 
costs. But, by means of arbitrary 
intervention, the trusts also sought to 
maintain a rise in selling prices, in 
order to profit at the expense of the 
consumer. It is true that the Sherman 
Law forbade combinations and mo- 
nopolies; but the great industries 
knew how to evade the law and ended 
by adjusting its workings to their pur- 
poses. Thus in spite of a decidedly hos- 
tile public opinion they remained 
powerful. It is doubtful whether they 
served their own true interests by this 
policy, for only by lowering prices 
could they assure themselves of the 
markets which these great and ever- 
expanding industries needed. 

It was Ford and the automobile in- 
dustry in general which first discerned 

the truth: that a mass market is neces- 
sary for mass production. Ford's pol- 
icy, which, for courage and true wis- 
dom, can never be over-praised, was 
diametrically opposed to that of the 
trusts. It sought to reduce costs by in- 
creasing the volume of production, at 
the same time passing on this reduc- 
tion to the public, systematically and 
obstinately diminishing selling prices; 
it also endeavored to increase or (in 
time of crisis) to maintain wages at 
the maximum amount compatible 
with the returns, thus raising the level 
of the standard of living, that is to say 
of mass purchasing power. American 
industry adopted this doctrine in 
some measure during the piping times 
of post-War prosperity, but, looking 
back from today, it seems to have 
done so too half-heartedly. Many in- 
dustrial leaders tried to stimulate 
sales without lowering prices, so that 
the consumer found himself at a dis- 
advantage. Then manufacturers re- 
sorted to the economic equivalent of a 
shot in the arm, such as sales by in- 
stallment, a drawing upon the reve- 
nues of tomorrow. Another method is 
the systematic use of advertising; still 
another is intensive sales eflforts, in 
which the industry pursues the cus- 
tomer to his very home, and obliges 
him to show more energy in refusing 
to buy than in buying. But these 
processes are expensive. They demand 
a large personnel and run up costs. 

When the depression gained the 
catastrophic proportions which we 
remember, these two methods were 
available to combat it; that of the 
trusts and that of Ford. In his New 
Deal program President Roosevelt 
decided upon the former, after having 
first advocated a policy of severe de- 
flation. The business world, demoral- 




ized and desperate, was ready to 
accept whatever measures were coun- 
seled by the savior. Instead of seeking 
a solution in the reduction of costs and 
selling prices, the NRA recommended 
their consolidation. The industries 
gained the right to get together and 
control prices by monopolistic meth- 
ods, a privilege for which they had 
fought for thirty years; but they were 
asked to pay for this tolerance by 
adopting a social policy imposed upon 
them by the Government: recognition 
of trade unions, limitation of working 
hours, regulation of wages, etc. The 
old trust spirit reappeared in a new 
form, partaking a little of Italian 
'corporativism,' yet influenced by a 
vague sort of Marxism. The consumer 
bore the weight of the combination; 
the worker and the boss were invited 
to share the benefits, and the Govern- 
ment assumed the role of mediator 
and arbitrator a role never before as- 
sumed by it in America. 


Now that the NRA has ceased to 
exist, now that the judgment of the 
Supreme Court has freed production 
from Government control, industry is 
at liberty to continue of its own ac- 
cord what the Government had at- 
tempted to impose upon it by the 
codes. The practice varies among dif- 
ferent industries; some of them, like 
the iron and steel industries, for in- 
stance, seem to favor the principle of 
maintaining prices by the trust policy 
and tariff protection. The automobile 
industry, on the contrary, remains 
faithful to Ford's methods, and does 
quite well. Other industries, like the 
textiles and coal, are in a fever of com- 
petition, which lowers prices in an un- 

healthy manner without making suffi- 
cient profit for capital. 

At heart industry would like to see 
the Sherman Law repealed and to 
benefit by freedom of combination 
without the accompanying social legis- 
lation. It is improbable that it will at- 
tain this advantage otherwise than in 
the precarious form of law breaking. 
But it seems to me that Ford repre- 
sents the true, traditional spirit of 
America, the spirit of initiative and 
audacity and readiness to accept risk. 

When an industry in the United 
States tries to lower the cost of its 
product, what must it do? Wage re- 
duction is not usually its method of 
tackling the problem. First it tries to 
increase the volume of production, 
then to decrease the burden of general 
costs. At the same time it systemati- 
cally replaces workers by machinery, 
so that, without any sacrifice by the 
remaining workers, the effective equiva- 
lent of wage cuts is attained. The solu- 
tion is then to be found in the individ- 
ual organization rather than in the 
general economy. The great difference 
between Europe and America in this 
respect is that the social rather than 
the political organism sets up an in- 
stinctive resistance to the reduction of 
wages. The industry must then look 
for another solution, and if it does not 
find it, be disqualified as an effective 

The destiny of American industry is 
thus bound up with the progress of 
mechanization. Its great achievement 
is the substitution of machines for 
manual labor. In this policy it is un- 
questionably ahead of Europe; but 
there always exists a limit beyond 
which the machine cannot be further 
utilized. Then the American's advan- 
tage disappears; the burden of wages 




becomes too heavy to be supported. 
Neither the crisis nor President Roose- 
velt's policy seems to have brought 
any new specific factors into this 
situation, since the conditions of 
American success in industrial com- 
petition depend upon basic circum- 
stances which even the most sensa- 
tional of crises cannot change. 

In order to struggle against the de- 
pression and emerge from it, America, 
then, must choose between two meth- 
ods, one orthodox, one necessitating 
the use of artificial stimulants. We 
have discussed the President's ap- 
parent choice and indicated the hesita- 
tions of industry, reverting at last to 
its former methods, as if the depres- 
sion had never existed. What is the 
opinion of the general public, of the 
electors, whose votes are what really 
count in the long run? 


As long as its amazing, exceptional 
post-War prosperity lasted. North 
America gave the impression of pro- 
found conservativism. The majority 
thought only of individual possibilities 
of enrichment to be achieved by per- 
sonal initiative within the existing 
social system. Few people thought 
about social reforms or the revolution. 
What is the situation now that busi- 
ness success has ceased to be an easy 
thing and millions are ruined or re- 
duced to unemployment.^ 

We must first of all realize that the 
European vocabulary is misleading 
when applied to the New World. In 
America inescapable and rigid social 
distinctions do not exist. Therefore 
the class struggle. Socialism, Commu- 
nism or Fascism, are not expressions 
which one can usefully employ that 

is, not without some shift of meaning. 
If people whose state of mind could be 
compared to that of our revolution- 
aries are to be found in America, they 
may be explained away as immigrants 
of recent European origin, and, no- 
tably, Jews. One would be wrong to 
consider them as representative. 

On the other hand, and here we 
have the true contrast with the Old 
World, the struggle is less between the 
'haves' and t