Another voice
Chinks in the curtain
Auberon Waugh
The two greatest obstacles to any under- standing of the Soviet Union are Soviet secrecy and Western lack of curiosity. Of these two, the second is surely the more for- midable. Just occasionally a chink opens in the Iron Curtain. For a day or two some- thing appears — certainly not a glimpse of light, but at least some impression of the pervading gloom, not to say hellish darkness, on the other side. Then it closes again and our attention wanders off to the antics of Princess Anne's little daughter, Miss Zara Philips, at Trooping the Colour or whatever. All that remains is a memory of something unpleasant, a vague feeling that we do not really want to know about life under socialism after the proletarian revolution when the working class can, at any rate in theory, make the claim:
'It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.'
Two possible explanations occur to me for this reluctance on the part of people liv- ing in the West to contemplate the realities of life in the Soviet Union. Both derive, in their different ways, from intellectual dishonesty or funk. Those of us who are aware of the extraordinarily comfortable lives we live do not like to be reminded of the precarious nature of our comforts; nor do those of kindly disposition relish the thought of the steps which may be necessary to defend them. If there are Calibans to be shut up in their caves, we would prefer it to be done without our knowledge, and even reserve the right to criticise the practice. There is much to be said for such an attitude, so long as we can get away with it. As Thomas Gray remark- ed on a distant prospect of Eton College, where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise.
The other explanation is more disturbing. One cannot live in Europe for very long nowadays without being made aware that there is a genuine and widespread terror of war. Prima facie there need be nothing irra- tional in this terror, since war with the Soviet Union under present circumstances would undoubtedly be an unimaginably horrible business, even if fought with con- ventional weapons. Quite possibly it would be even worse in terms of suffering if fought with conventional weapons, depend- ing on how long it lasted before Nato sur- rendered. But this terror of war, as Andrei Sakharov argues, has taken such a hold in the West as to produce irrational behaviour which has the effect of making war more
likely rather than less so. I do not doubt that this terror of war provides a second reason why many people in the West are reluctant to learn the truth about Soviet society: any statement of the truth will be so offensive to the Russians as to cause a quar- rel which will lead to a deterioration of rela- tions and increase the risk of war.
So let us turn a blind eye or at any rate pretend not to notice what life is like in Russia where people have taken all this brave Kauffmano-Hattersleyic quasi-social democracy just the weeniest bit further than our own beloved Labour Party has yet been able to do. At its most brutal, this attitude expresses itself in the sentiment that if the Russians actually enjoy living ,as slaves, shackled together in rags and grateful for any crusts thrown to them — certainly their entire history suggests that this is what they prefer; it was the first glimmer of liberalism which provoked them to furious revolution, howling to be put back in chains — then for heaven's sake let us leave them that way and think about something else.
Only Andrei Sakharov, so far as I know, among prominent world thinkers, believes that this wilful ignorance of Soviet reality is what might eventually lead to war. Sakharov, in fact, strikes me as the most in- teresting thinker in the world today (unless he is already dead, which may well be the case). He is about 500 times more in- teresting than Solzhenitsyn (another frustrated authoritarian) and a million times more interesting than Bernard Levin who seems capable of grasping only one corner of any handkerchief in his deter- mination to see the whole hideous, obscene tragedy of the Soviet Union in terms of a shouting match between goodies and baddies.
Mr David Levy, the Spectator's former Moscow correspondent who now lives in Canada, is so convinced of Sakharov's im- portance that he has founded a Sakharov Institute, dedicated to spreading Sakharov's thought and also to spreading knowledge about the Soviet Union by means of a regular newsletter. Those in- terested in receiving it should write to him at 310-1070 West Broadway, Vancouver, Canada V6H 1E7, with whatever subscrip- tion they think suitable. He was moved to this course of action by Western reactions to the shooting down of the Korean airliner last year, particularly Pierre Trudeau's reference to the atrocity as 'a tragic ac- cident'. Like Sakharov, he believes that such a depth of ignorance about Soviet foreign policy, and about the Soviet system which it mirrors, existing at such a high level of policy-making in the West, must _.---- represent a serious threat to peace. And so, all to braverights... man, he sets out to put it Ignorance about the Soviet Union is air!' ed and abetted to a large extent by the resi- dent Western press corps in Moscow. Sonl.e of its members are so nervous of losing the accreditation with the authorities that theY will report nothing which might cause a tip pie; a few are fellow-travellers, working consciously with and for the Soviet infor: mation services; some are idle, and haPP) to use only official sources; others have been there so long that they accept the NI' ror of it all without question and do 11°t even think it worth reporting, for instance: when the Soviet press eventually' discovers
that the average Soviet citizen spends three and a half hours every week queuing. But there are one or two exceptions t'
this dismal rule, among them the Telegraph's Nigel Wade. He pointed .01-11 that as Russian men, generally speaking', refuse to do any shopping, this figure rna) mean that the average Soviet female spel seven hours a week queuing; he explain the Soviet shopping system, which involves standing in three queues for every Purehas'e (the same system applies at F°Yiencis Bookshop, for those who wish to try it).a.'d capped it all with anecdotes about a filen., who was happy to queue 11 hours for a Pal; of jogging shoes. Newspapers, he said, vier, clay because it contained a reference to the heroic achievements by the Soviet Pe°„Pas er offoers sal ofne ea.i
urging a crackdown on
queuers who perform this servicp No doubt, under Mr Kinnock, the Sundli Times will urge just such a crackdown, eve as it now urges one on duty-free drink • • :,
A more revealing chink in the curtain la.5_!
week came when the British ambassador 0" Moscow was prevented from broadcasting!. three-minute message on the Queen's 13111,11. after Britain welcomed the Soviet Unt°." , an ally in the struggle against fascis!ho (thereby revealing that the Soviet 1-411°.,, joined the war later). Even worse, Sir lal; Sutherland appealed for accurate inf°r,Irlot tion to show that a desire for peace was nor the monopoly of one particular CO 4 ideology'. Of course Soviet citizens ratl never be allowed to know any such thing i; , v
the whole oppressive apparatus wouldv
e°,,„ lapse. Ignorance and deceit are essential ,., the working of the system. That is pro be the most important single truth to e grasped. A third chink in the curtain ca
from from two Soviet army deserters brouSht tastii` ac
cePie under Soviet occupation until one s,, London by Lord Bethell from Afghani They had appalling stories to tell of sacholt atrocities committed against ionte civilians — some over the border in Ir4“.:, In we should treat these stories l'y a little more caution. I do not know.. °,/lhe by studying the occasional chinks in t
cide
great blanket of secrecy can one de „( which stories to believe. But one cannivi. even begin to speculate about conditio t: that nobody, anywhere, knows the wh° truth or even acknowledges its existe_21.!..e/-