20
PARTISAN REVIEW
want to know who gave them to me? That's none of your business .
Maybe I wrote them myself? Maybe you ordered someone to plant
them on me ... ? All right?"
For a moment he thought Liss would accept his challenge, lose
his temper and shout: "We have ways of making you answer!"
He would have liked that so much . That would make everything
so straightforward , so easy. What a clear, simple word it was–
"enemy."
But Liss only said: "Who cares about these wretched papers?
What does it matter who wrote them? I know it was neither of us .
Just think for a moment! Who do you imagine fill our camps when
there's no war and no prisoners of war? Enemies of the Party ,
enemies of the People! Yes, and if our Reich Security Administra–
tion accepts prisoners of yours in peacetime, then we won't let them
out again - your prisoners are our prisoners!"
He grinned.
"The German Communists we've sent to camps are the same
ones you sent to camps in 1937. Yezhov imprisoned them : Reichs–
fUhrer Himmler imprisoned them ... Be more of a Hegelian, teacher."
He winked at Mostovskoy.
"I've often thought that a knowledge of foreign languages must
be as useful in your camps as it is in ours. Today you're appalled by
our hatred of the Jews. Tomorrow you may make use of our experi–
ence yourselves . And by the day after tomorrow we may be more
tolerant again. I have been led by a great man down a long road .
You too have been led by a great man; you too have traveled a long,
difficult road . Did you really believe Bukharin was an agent prov–
ocateur? Only a very great man could lead people down a road like
that . . . I knew Roehm myself; I trusted him. But that's how it had
to be ... What tortures me, though, is the thought that your terror
killed millions - and we Germans were the only ones who could
understand, the only men in the world who thought : 'Yes, that's ab–
solutely right, that's how it has to be !'"
"Please try to understand me - as I understand you . This war
ought to appall you . Napoleon should never have fought against En–
gland ."
Mostovskoy was struck by a new thought. He even screwed up
his eyes - either because of a sudden stab of pain or to get rid of this
tormenting thought. What if his doubts were not just a sign of weak–
ness, tiredness , impotence , lack of faith, contemptible shillyshally–
ing? What if these doubts represented what was most pure and
