‘We know how wars end: we must not forget how they start’

NE OF THE most represen-
eae Batherings of writ-
“SI more than three de-
Place in East. Ger-
May 14 to 19, on
Wersary of the nazi

from
Oth ann
tL

® 200 Writers, from 52 coun-
cluded William Saroyan

SA, Mulk Raj Anand of

ames Aldridge of Bri-
ohstantin Fedin of the
Tank Hardy from Aus-
ablo Neruda from Chile.

ie younger generation
“8S the West German-
Weiss,

b €st Berlin a year ago
en acclaimed in many
ie Countries as superb,
nce: and the author
eeeecrecht,
Pugwash of literature,”
4) Anand called the ga-
‘+t Opened in Berlin on
Begpoved to Weimar

(OnGaes .
vinadian Writers attend-
. Were Gratien Gelinas
a Ber Lemelin, both of

oe

feel Was how. to stop

toward atomic holo-
ae previous interna-
935 conferences —

and Madrid, 1937 —

“tas a warning.

anti-fascist writers con-
a Paris, 1935, tried to
of

<3

appealed to
belt to save the Spanish

ae Stop the advance
Wag » Two years Jater the
aie that put the
invacr aflame — the Ger-

Slon of Poland in 1939.

f 1965, time is run-
ses oe American im-
ie €sting its arsenal
ae: as the Nazis did in

€rican troops invad-
ne Minican Republic, to
Defoe its affairs. How

© it may be too late?

Eintin Fedin related an
io, SHOW that the young
ienge does not share in
ae War. Then he said:
ust how .wars end; but
Not forget how they
Of the feverishly-
poms in the prepara-
Saad war is to wipe
_~ j0ry the past war —
© wipe out the true
ac a replace it with a
ar are Memory. The roads
: Paved with lies.”

eS the writers visit-

“of °rmer concentration

Uchenwald, only a

n_ from the shrine of

Govliture — Weimar,

, osthe, Schiller, List,
Wed and worked.

guided by
g yy author of Naked
Sonen ves: who had been
Mm Buchenwald for
To hear him was an
€xperience — his
Owe sures, a voice clear
in Ul, but striving to

; Ss,
jeble

“Motion: :
Ords th n; sentences born

at did not come
throat but from the
chen, © heart.
tee had a well-func-
€rground that pos-
Dlang @POMs- Frustrating
fo liquidate the camp

Mportant theme of the.

before withdrawing, the under-
ground used its weapons a few
days before the American
troops arrived to lead a camp
uprising, to overwhelm a few
hundred guards and to save
50,000 prisoners.

Many restrained tears as
Apitz told his story. The face
of Marcos Ana, the poet who
was imprisoned by the Spanish
fascists when he was 18, who
spent 23 years in Franco’s jails,
was bathed in tears.

Bruno Apitz showed us the
stump of Goethe’s favorite tree
— the ‘Goethe oak” — and told
us how the Nazis surrounded it
with barbed wire even before
the camp was completed. It be-
came the first prisoner at Buch-
enwald.

Gratien. Gelinas placed a
wreath at the memorial stone
for British and Canadian con-
centration camp victims. The
stone is flanked by the Union
Jack and the new maple-leaf
flag.

The days of the gathering

were few but eventful. There
were many debates and discus-
sions on literature. Overriding
the differing political opinions
was a sense of togetherness.
Common participation in reviv-
ing memories of the past, in
sensing the urgency of the
present and in mutual concern
for the future dissolved the re-
serve that is normal in gather-
ings between East and West.

‘I asked a few writers for
their impressions.

“The truest value of the
meeting is that it is a gathering
of responsible writers who
make use of their talents for
the furtherance of peace and to
fight against war,” said William
Saroyan.

“The meeting was a_ revela-
tion, not only for myself. Wei-
mar, the symbol of high cul-
ture, and the contrast of Buch-
enwald. It was a deeply moving
and unforgetable experience, es-
pecially for us who live. far
away and cannot visualize what

it meant, to see the actual place

where it happened. The scene—

a beautiful setting, and what a .

terrible place it was made.”
Mulk Raj Anand told me: “A
meeting like. this is invaluable.
Every time we become dormant,
the forces of darkness move.
We must be vigilant, persistent,

. ceaselessly go on in our work

for peace and understanding.

“This was the way in which
we forced the first successful
steps. We relax our efforts and
for two years the disarmament
conference is stalemated. Now,
Vietnam happened; San Domin-
go happened.

“Meetings like this between
East and West are vital. They
must continue. They. have the
effect of dissolving prejudices
which propaganda has created
and of removing inhibitions.”

Australian novelist Frank
Hardy said his expectations
were. exceeded in every respect.
“We are 12 Australians repre-
senting literally every aspect of
writing and every shade of po-

litical opinion, including right- -

ist. We are all impressed and
happy.”

G th ri
Max Reich, the Tribune's staff correspondent in Berlin, describes
what happened when more than 200 writers from 52 countries

met recently in East Berlin — one of the most representative ga-
therings of writers since conferences in Paris in 1935 and Madrid

in 1937.

Writers from many countrie

smecull the horrors of fascism as they are led through the site of

.

Buchenwald concentration camp by Bruno Apitz, a German writer who spent eight years in the

camp. N

ext to Apitz is the French-Canadian writer Gratien Gelinas {in sunglasses).

On May 19, 37 writers from
as many countries spoke in the
National Theatre inn Weimar.

Yuri. Suhl, USA, spoke of the
physical tragedy and spiritual
triumph of the Jews and of the
Jewish writers in the Warsaw
Ghetto.

Sidike Dembele from Mali,
in picturesque national costume,
spoke impromptu. He had seen
Germans who were enthusiastic
and hospitable; but he had also
seen Buchenwald, which stands
as a warning that there are still
fascists on earth, in the Congo,
in Vietnam, in South Africa,
and imperialists who: call them-
selves democrats and interfere
in the affairs of other states.

Tibor Dery from Hungary, re-
leased from prison two years
ago, said: “I want to say to you
what | said to audiences in the
West — in Austria, West Ger-
many, Italy and elsewhere. I
am a_ socialist and have re-
mained a socialist. But let me
add that I can only be content
with a. socialism that bases it-
self on justice, in which truth
is spoken and said, wherever it
be in the world. He is not a real
writer who. does not write the
truth.”

More than 30 writers had
spoken when James Aldridge
roused the audience with his
moving speech.

“We all saw Buchenwald. I
saw Maidanek a few days after

_the Red Army liberated it. Com-

pared to Maidanek, Buchenwald
was a holiday camp. When I
saw this, I thought: ‘Whenever
will I be able again to say I like
Germans, I respect Germans,
and when can I ever again see

- through what blinded me there?’

Because we felt, during the war,
that a whole people had _ be-
come corrupted. In Britain most
people still say ‘those bloody
Germans’. What a predicament
for a people, for a nation to
overcome .. .

“What this country, the Ger- -
man Democratic Republic; has
given me is the restoration of a
people, of a culture and future,
which up to here and now did
not exist for me. This human
problem is, I hope, an example
of what war means, what fas-
cism means.”

The gathering issued a man-
ifesto.: Titled ‘Call From Wei-
mar,” it said:

“We have met in friendship,
united, in spite of differences of
opinion and origin, in the ser-
ious determination to stand up
for the life of the nations in
peace, with all the power in-
herent in the humanist written
word..

“We have met 20 years after
the costly victory over Hitler
fascism, in the spirit of those,
who at the writer’s congress of
1935 in Paris and 1937 in Mad-
rid, united their voices for the
defense of culture and of peace.

“Their legacy is our task:
with mind, heart and talent to
fight in solidarity against open
and hidden fascism, against the
aggressions of imperialism and
against the terrible new threat
to humanity — atomic war.

“We writers from 52 coun-

’ tries appeal to all who write

today:

“Heed our call
mar!”

from Wei-

June 18, 1965—PACIFIC TRIBUNE—Page 7