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ARTISAN REVIEW
pIe, makes tragically clear the despair and hopelessness almost every
Russian felt under the brutal Stalinist rule. One observation in her book
is
particularly striking. Mandelstam's reference to the Moscow Trials, which
stood out in America as a dramatic illustration of Soviet political geno–
cide, is mentioned in passing, in lowercase, as an event no different from
the daily arrests and trials and confessions.
My own experience, which was far less dramatic and lasted only two
years, because it took place in this country, was an eye-opener that could
not be concealed by propaganda or faith. It seems worth recalling, be–
cause I am one of the few anti-Communists in America who were able to
observe the inner workings of the Communist Party.
It was in the thirties, just after I had gotten out of college, that I
joined the John Reed Writers Club, an organization controlled by the
Communist Party. Like many other writers and intellectuals, I was pro–
pelled into the radical movement by the Depression, which eroded one's
faith in the existing system.
It
was like a tidal wave that carried people
into a new world, full of promises of a better life. But it did not take long
for anyone with any independence of mind to see that the Party and the
people it influenced - and the movements surrounding it - constituted an
historical fraud. The John Reed Club actually was run by a small fraction
of Party members, about five or ten people. The rest of the club consisted
of vaguely leftist writers who accepted the lead of the Communists, but
many of them were cynical and disenchanted. The line of the club was
utterly sectarian, not only reflecting the political direction imposed by the
Russians, but also imitating the literary tone of the Russians, who dis–
missed as bourgeois all the leading trends of modern thought and litera–
ture. The John Reed Club generally supported the idea of proletarian lit–
erature emanating from Moscow. One incident was typical. At a meeting
of the club someone read several letters by the Scottsboro boys, who were
accused of having raped several women in a railroad boxcar. "I ain't never
jazzed anyone," said one of the letters, "I ain't jazzed no one." At this,
another member rose and said, "This is proletarian literature." Despite the
efforts of some recent apologists to "nativize" the Communists, it was
clear that not only the John Reed Club but the entire movement was not
indigenous, and thus it had little organic relation to the American people.
Mter about a year, the directive came from Moscow to establish the
"Popular Front," ostensibly a less sectarian policy, but actually a maneuver
to attract people who were not Communists but who would not oppose
or criticize them too seriously. In its wake the John Reed Clubs were dis–
solved, and the spurious League of American Writers was set up in their
place. For reasons I have never been able to fathom, I had been occa–
sionally permitted into inner circles, though I never joined the Party.
