SOVIET LITERATURE
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following passage in his speech could very well have significant
implications since it suggests a certain abdication by the party of its
exclusive prerogatives in the control of literature, in favor of the
corporate judgment of the writers themselves:
You will ask: what guarantee is there against mistakes? Yes, It IS
difficult to give guarantees, because a writer, if he is a real Soviet
writer, makes mistakes not consciously, not intentionally, but for a
whole number of reasons, such as inadequate knowledge of life and
incorrect premises,
etc.
In order to prevent this, one must remember
that writers live in society, reflect the life of society, that their work
must be guided by the criticism of society and that they must take
account of this criticism.... Again you may say: "Criticize us, con–
trol us, if a work is incorrect, do not print it." But you know that
it is not easy to decide right away what to print. The easiest thing
would be to print nothing, then there would be no mistakes. . . .
But it would be stupidity. Therefore, comrades, do not burden the
government with the solution of such questions, decide them for
yourselves in a comradely fashion.
This grant of relative autonomy to the writers is accompanied
by guarantees that there will be no return to the "intolerable
phenomena" associated with the "cult of personality" and also by
a plea for tolerance and tact in dealing with colleagues, however
seriously they may have erred. Wayward intellectuals, like hardened
criminals (see footnote 1), are not incorrigible if they are given
every chance to reform. Apologizing for the "crudity" of his an–
alogy, Khrushchev told his audience how he himself had recently
reformed a thief with a little kindness. In calling for comradely
love and reconciliation, however, Khrushchev makes it quite plain
that forgiveness depends on penitence and a contrite admission of
defeat. One must "not strike a man when he's down"; but neither
must one forget the immortal words of Maxim Gorky:
"If
the
enemy does not surrender, he must be destroyed." Nor must the
writers be allowed to forget that their role is primarily to assist the
party in the education of man. At the end of his speech, through a
remarkable unconscious blunder, he reformulated this sacred task
of the Soviet writers in words rather familiar to Western ears:
