Chapter 16
During the first five months of 1957 I made a great many broadcasts for the BBC. Almost the last of these was an Interview between Alan Wood and myself and a representative of the BBC in connection with Alan's publication of his biography of me. Alan was bitterly disappointed by this interview. His experience of broadcasting was less than mine and so he was considerably surprised when the lady who represented the BBC asked us questions which she had not asked at our rehearsal, indeed which concerned subjects such as my private life. We were both somewhat disconcerted by her questions. However, the book itself had a good reception in spite of being rather tepidly advertised. It seems to me to be an excellent piece of work.
I very much hope that Alan was happy in the reviews given to the book. We launched it pleasantly among some of my old friends and relations at a small party at Millbank on my birthday. This was almost the last time that I saw Alan. He fell very ill shortly after this and died in October. A little over two months later, his wife, Mary, died. It was a heart-breaking loss. They were young and happy and clever and able, and full of plans for their future and that of their two small sons. Their loss to me was incalculable. I not only was very fond of them, but had come to depend upon their knowledge of everything to do with me and their sympathetic understanding, and I greatly enjoyed their companionship.
It must be said that there were limitations to Alan's understanding of the matters discussed in my books. This showed particularly in regard to political matters. I regarded him as rather conservative, and he regarded me as more radical than I was or am. When I argued that everybody ought to have a vote, he thought that I was maintaining that all men are equal in ability. I only disabused him of this belief by pointing out that I had supported eugenics, which is concerned with differences In natural ability. Such disagreements, however, never marred our friendship, and never intruded in purely philosophical conversations.
These sad happenings and the fact that my wife fell ill of a bad heart attack in early June dislocated and slowed up our activities for some months. I got through little that could be of any conceivable public Interest for some time. By November, however, my concern with international affairs had boiled up. I felt that I must again do something to urge at least a modicum of common sense to break into the policies of the two Great Powers, Russia and America. They seemed to be blindly, but with determination, careering down a not very primrose-strewn path to destruction, a destruction that might - probably would engulf us all. I wrote an open letter, to President Eisenhower and Premier Khrushchev, addressing them as 'Most Potent Sirs'. In it I tried to make clear the fact that the things which they held in common were far more numerous and far more important than their differences, and that they had much more to gain than to lose by co-operation. I believed then, as I still believe, in the necessity of co-operation between nations as the sole method of avoiding war; and avoidance of war is the only means of avoiding disaster. This, of course, involves rather disagreeable concessions by all nations. A decade later, Russia seemed to have recognised the need of co-operation - except, possibly, in relations to her co-Marxist State, China. The United States continued to confound co-operation with domination. But, in 1958, I had hope, though slight hope, of both Great Powers coming to their senses, and in this letter I tried to lay my case before them.
Almost at once a reply came from Premier Khrushchev. No answer came from President Eisenhower. Two months later John Foster Dulles replied for him. This reply stung Premier Khrushchev into writing to me again answering various points made by Mr Dulles. All these letters appeared in the New Statesmen. They were soon published in book form with an introduction by that paper's editor, Kingsley Martin, and a final reply from me to Mr Dulles and Mr Khrushchev. The letters speak for themselves and my final reply gives my point of view on them. The righteously adamantine surface of Mr Dulles's mind as shown in his letter filled me with greater foreboding than did the fulminations and, sometimes, contradictions of Mr Khrushchev. The latter seemed to me to show some underlying understanding of alternatives and realities; the former, none.
During that autumn, George Kennan had been giving the Reith Lectures over the BBC and saying some excellent things drawn with acumen from his wide and first-hand knowledge of American and Russian policies. Early in December a group of us met with Kingsley Martin at his invitation to talk things over. As far as I remember it was at this meeting that the first glimmerings flickered of what was to become the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament. A meeting of the sponsors of the National Council for the Abolition of Nuclear Weapons Tests was held at the house of Canon John Collins in Amen Court and the CND was formally started early in January, 1958. The officers were to be: Canon Collins, the Chairman; Mrs Peggy Duff, the Secretary; and myself, the President. An Executive Committee was formed comprising some of those leaders already established in anti-nuclear movements and a certain number of other interested notables. There had been for some time various associations working to overcome the dangers with which the international scene was fraught. The CND proposed to take them all in - or at least almost all.
The CND was publicly launched at a large meeting at the Central Hall, Westminster, on February 17, 1958. So many people attended this meeting that there had to be overflow meetings. It seems now to many people as if the CND has been part of the national scene from the beginning of time, and it has lost its lustre and energy through familiarity. But in its early days its information and reasoning were not only sincere but were fresh and commanded considerable attention among a variety of individuals and circles important in the nation. And the first meeting went off with great éclat and success. Moreover, interest in the CND quickly spread. Soon there were committees formed in different parts of the country and then Regional Committees. Many meetings were held, at some of which I spoke. I remember, in particular, one at Manchester in 1959 at which Lord Simon of Wythenshawe was in the chair.
I saw much of Lord Simon in those days and until his death in October, 1960, as he was greatly concerned by the nuclear peril and worked hard to make the dangers known. He arranged a debate on the subject in the House of Lords and held a great number of meetings and press conferences at his London flat. He was a member of the executive committee of the CND and we saw eye to eye in most matters to do with it. He became, as I already was, an upholder of the activities of the Direct Action Committee. We both believed that the dangers must be called to the attention of the public in as many ways as possible and that if we stuck to merely meetings and even marches, no matter how admirable they might be, we should end by preaching only to the already converted. The chairman of the CND did not approve of civil disobedience and so, though nominally the Direct Action Committee was to be tolerated, it could not be aided openly by the CND. The latter did not, for instance, take part in the Aldermaston March, as it was staged by the Direct Action Committee in 1958. The march proved a success, and the CND took it over lock, stock and barrel the following year and made, of course, a much larger and more important thing of it. I was not able to attend the 1959 march or the subsequent meeting in Trafalgar Square, but the following year I spoke in the Square at the end of the march. I wished, in these years, that I had been young enough to take part in the marches. Later, they seemed to me to be degenerating into something of a yearly picnic. Though individual marchers were as sincere as ever in their endeavours and as admirable, the march was quite ineffective in achieving their aim, which was to call serious attention to and spread the movement. For die most part, the march became a subject of boredom or distress or hilarity, and converted very few of those hitherto unconverted. It was useful, nevertheless, as I think it still is, in continuing, if not enlarging, the movement. New and fresh forms of opposition to dangerous nuclear policies must be sought constantly in order to obtain converts and to catch and hold the interest of people of very diverse outlook.
Shortly after this 1960 Aldermaston March, the Summit Meeting between Eisenhower and Khrushchev took place - and crashed. We had all had high hopes of it and its break-up following the U2 incident was a blow to us. The more we learned of the skulduggery behind it the greater its foreboding quality became. It augured ill for progress towards co-operation, let alone towards disarmament. It seemed more than ever as if new methods must be sought to impress upon the public the increasingly precarious state of international affairs before people relapsed into frustrated apathy. But what this new means could be I did not see.
The CND had been working for unilateral disarmament, believing that if Great Britain gave up her part in the nuclear race and even demanded the departure of United States bases from her soil, other nations might follow suit. It was a slim hope, and still is, but none-the-less it was, and is, a hope. As such, it seemed worth following up. The Campaign also hoped to persuade not only the general public to this way of thinking but also the Government. As most of its upholders were drawn from the Labour Party, it went to work upon the Parliamentary Labour Party. My own view was that the matter was one that transcends Party politics and even national boundaries. As this reasonable view, as it seemed to me, failed to grip the public imagination, I was willing to uphold the Campaign in its efforts. The means towards the end that we both desired mattered less than its achievement. Perhaps, I thought, if the Labour Party could be persuaded to support the Campaign, we might be a short step towards the goal.
I had put my point of view clearly in the introduction to my book Common Sense and Nuclear Warfare which I wrote during the summer of 1958, and published early in 1959. I had been encouraged during 1958 by receiving the Kalinga Prize, at Unesco in Paris as I could not travel to India. (To be sure the French physicist who was deputed to bear-lead me on that occasion remarked comfortingly to his wife after I had been expounding my views: 'Never mind, my dear, by next year France will be able to explode her own bomb.') And the continued and growing success of the Pugwash movement, as well as the interest shown in the open correspondence with Khrushchev and Eisenhower (Dulles) were encouraging. I continued my search, as I have done since, to find fresh approaches through which to try to sway public opinion, including governmental opinion. All that I had succeeded in doing in 1958 touched only this or that relatively small circle of people. The CND at that time gave hope that a more general public could be reached. It seemed to me then as it does today that governmental policies must be regarded in the light of common sense. They must be shorn of red tape and 'tradition' and general mystique. They would be seen then to be leading, as they are, only to probable general destruction.
The policies that were needed were those dictated by common sense. If the public could be shown this clearly, I had a faint hope that they might insist upon governmental policies being brought into accord with common sense. I wrote my Common Sense and Nuclear Warfare in his hope. The book was fairly widely read, I believe, and commended. But it did not tackle the question as to exactly how each individual could make his opinion known and influence policy-making, a fact that left some readers dissatisfied. I had one moment of high hope when the Minister of Defence, Duncan Sandys, wrote commending the book and saying that he would like to talk with me about it. He was a Conservative, and a policy-maker in a national Government, and had collaborated in a pamphlet on the subject himself. But when I went to see him, he said, 'It is a good book, but what is needed is not only nuclear disarmament but the banning of war itself'. In vain I pointed out the passage in my book in which I had said that the only way to ensure the world against nuclear war was to end war. He continued to believe that I could not have said anything so intelligent. He cast my other arguments aside. I came away discouraged. I realised that most of the already informed people who read my book would read it with a bias so strong that they would take in only what they wished to take in. For the following months, therefore, I returned to the piecemeal business of speaking at meetings, CND and other, and broadcasting, and to the pleasures of my own life.
To celebrate my eighty-seventh birthday, we drove down through Bath and Wells and Glastonbury to Dorset. We visited the swannery and gardens at Abbotsbury where, by chance, we witnessed a peacock's nuptial dance, precisely articulated, one of the most enchanting and beautiful ballets that I have ever seen. We made a sentimental pilgrimage to the small Italianate eighteenth century Kingston Russell House which I had not seen before. I thought it most perfect and most perfectly set in its garden and valley. I wished immensely that I could myself live in it. I seldom feel this kind of envy, but Kingston Russell House touched me deeply. And I was interested in hunting out the old farm buildings and the village where my family had begun its more notable career. It was an altogether satisfactory expedition, but for some reason that I have now forgotten had to be cut short. So, to complete our allotted holiday, we went another extended drive after my birthday, this time in the Peak District. This, however, from the point of view of enjoyment was a complete failure. Places that should have been lonely and quiet were teeming with holiday-makers like ourselves; places that should have seemed full of life even though quiet, like Jane Austen's Bakewell, were tarnished by convention meetings. Perhaps it all seemed dreary because we struck the wrong note in the beginning by visiting Alderley where my Stanley grandparents had had an estate. The house had been destroyed. Only the gardens remained, in derelict state. The Government had taken it over for some unholy project. I have a small table, made for my mother and a larger one made for my father by the estate carpenter, from the Alderley Doomsday Oak when it had to be cut down. But the whole place made me melancholy. It was very desolate.
Early in 1960 we went to Copenhagen for a short time for me to receive the Sonning Prize for contribution to European Culture, bestowed by the University of Copenhagen. The speech of acceptance gave me a chance to outline my attitude towards present cultural differences, based upon the history of past changes in cultures. If this were reflected upon and adopted as being valid, as I think it is, it would change for the better present co-operation between nations and would increase the possibility of further and effective co-operation. My speech was published later under the tide 'Old and New Cultures' in my book Fact and Fiction.
The occasion of the prize-giving was a pleasant one with a reception and a fine State dinner following it. My wife was seated between the Minister of Educations who declared himself to be unable to speak English, and Professor Niels Bohr, upon whom the burden of conversation therefore fell. He took his duties seriously and talked steadily through the banquet. He was very difficult to understand, we were told, even when speaking his native Danish to Danes; and, in English, I had always found it extremely hard to follow him as he spoke very quickly. My wife found it impossible. That was exasperating enough, since he was clearly talking of things that she would have wished to hear about. But, far worse on such an occasion, as he talked, he leaned further and further towards her, absorbed in his own words. Finally, he was eating the delicious confections from her plate and drinking her wine whilst the notable company of diners looked on, smiling and entranced. It was a tribute to his charm that she continued to like him, as I did.
I have seldom enjoyed my many speeches and articles during these years as they usually concerned nuclear matters. But now and again I have made a pleasurable excursion into other matters as I did at Copenhagen. I even ventured, a little later, into Shakespearean exigesis in a letter to The Times. For some weeks there had raged a discreet and venomous correspondence concerning the probable person to whom the printed sonnets were dedicated. The initials W, H. were interpreted this way and that by great stretches of imagination and with much learning. It seemed to me that, like Melchisedck, Mr W. H. was a clerical error for Mr W. S. who was, in truth, 'the onlie begetter' of the sonnets. I ventured, hesitantly and half in fun, to put this view forward. No one took it up and no further letters appeared on the subject. I fear that I spoiled the scholarly fun.
One evening I broadcast over the Asian service in company with a number of Asian students. As I walked down the corridor in the hotel where the occasion took place, a small, bird-like lady leapt from one of the huge red plush thrones placed at intervals along the wall, stood before me and declaimed, 'And I saw Shelley plain', and sat down. I tottered on, shattered, but delighted.
I did a series of TV interviews with Woodrow Wyatt as interlocutor that came out in book form as Bertrand Russell Speaks his Mind. It gave me a chance to say a good deal that I wanted to say about international affairs as well as much else to a wide audience in various parts of the world. In February, 1960, I had a debate with the Indian scientist Bhabha and Teller, the Father of the Bomb, at which Ed Murrow was the interlocutor on CBS. I found it a most distressing occasion. The debate was difficult, since we were each speaking from our own country and could not follow the facial expression or reaction of each other as we talked. Still more disconcerting, I was inhibited by my intense dislike of Teller and by what I felt to be disingenuous flattery. I came away from the BBC studio feeling that I had let down all those who agreed with my point of view by not putting up the better show that the facts of our case warranted. Another disappointing TV occasion was a BBC discussion of nuclear matters by Mrs Roosevelt, Lord Boothby, Mr Gaitskell, and myself. I was horrified to hear Mrs Roosevelt enunciate the belief that it would be better, and that she would prefer, to have the human race destroyed than to have it succumb to Communism. I came away thinking that I could not have heard aright. Upon reading her remarks in the next morning's papers I had to face that fact that she really had expressed this dangerous view.
I had a controversy with an American philosopher named Sidney Hook at this time that was one which both of us found difficult to conduct on logical lines. He was a Menshevic who had become apprehensive of Russia ruling the world. He thought this so dreadful that it would be better the human race should cease to exist. I combated this view on the ground that we do not know the future, which, so long as Man survives, may be immensely better than the past. I instanced the times of Genghiz Khan and Kublai Khan, separated by only a generation, but one horrible, the other admirable. But there were plenty of contrary instances that he could have adduced, in view of which a definite decision was impossible. I maintained, however, that any chance of a better world depended upon hope, and was on this account to be preferred. This was not a logical argument, but I thought that most people would find it convincing. Several years later, Hook again attacked me publicly, but this time in such a manner that no comment from me was necessary. It amused me, however, that for his defence of 'freedom' and his attack on my views on Vietnam, he chose as his vehicle a journal later admitted to be financed by the Central Intelligence Agency.1
1 The New Leader received 3,000 dollars from Chiang Kai-shek's treasury for publishing an article hostile to China. Later it prepared the book The Strategy of Deception: A Study in World Wide Communist Tactics and was secretly paid 12,000 dollars by the us Government. When the us information Agency asked a House Appropriations Sub-Committee to increase its allowance for 'book development' from 90,000 dollars to 195,000 dollars, the Agency assured the legislators that the funds would go for books 'written to our own specifications' and having 'strong anti-communist content' (The New York Times, May 3 1964).
The attitude of most of humanity towards its own destruction surprised me. In December, 1959, I had read Neville Shute's On the Beach and I attended a private viewing of its film. I was cast down by the deliberate turning away it displayed from the horrible, harsh facts entailed by nuclear war - the disease and suffering caused by poisoned air and water and soil, the looting and murder likely among a population in anarchy with no means of communication, and all the probable evils and pain. It was like the prettified stories that were sometimes told about trench warfare during the First World War. Yet the film was put out and praised by people who meant to make the situation clear, not to belittle the horror. I was particularly distressed by the fact that I myself had praised the film directly after seeing it in what I came to think the mistaken opinion that a little was better than nothing. All that sort of thing does, I came to think, is to make familiar and rob of its true value what should carry a shock of revulsion. Irony such as that in Dr Strangelove or Oh, What a Lovely War is a different matter. That does cause people to think, at least for a short time.
By the summer of 1960 it seemed to me as if Pugwash and CND and the other methods that we had tried of informing the public had reached the limit of their effectiveness. It might be possible to so move the general public that it would demand en masse, and therefore irresistibly, the remaking of present governmental policies, here in Britain first and then elsewhere in the world. For a time, however, I had to put my bothers behind me, especially as they were so shapeless and amorphous, as my daughter and her husband and their children came to visit me. I had not seen them for a long time, not since I was last in the United States. Since that time my son-in-law had become a full fledged Minister in the Episcopal Church - he had been a layman and in the State Department - and he was taking his whole family to Uganda where he had been called as a missionary. My daughter had also become very religious and was whole-heartedly in sympathy with his aspirations. I myself, naturally, had little sympathy with either of them on this score. When I had wished to send a sum of money to them shortly before they came to England, and had to go to the Bank of England to arrange the transfer, my request was greeted with smiles and sometimes laughter at so old and confirmed an atheist wishing to help someone to become a Minister of the Gospel. But about many things we agreed, especially in liberal politics, and I loved my daughter dearly and was fond of her family. They were to stay in England for two years to prepare for their mission work, and each July they came to North Wales where they were put up in one of the Portmeirion Hotel cottages and we saw them daily. This, with other smaller happenings, absorbed most of my time during these two months.
Towards the end of July, 1960, I received my first visit from a young American called Ralph Schoenman. I had heard of some of his activities in relation to CND so I was rather curious to see him. I found him bursting with energy and teeming with ideas, and intelligent, if inexperienced and a little doctrinaire, about politics. Also, I liked in him, what I found lamentably lacking in many workers in the causes which I espoused, a sense of irony and the capability of seeing the humour in what was essentially very serious business. I saw that he was quickly sympathetic, and that he was impetuous. What I came only gradually to appreciate, what could only emerge with the passage of time, was his difficulty in putting up with opposition, and his astonishingly complete, untouchable self-confidence. I believed that intelligence working on experience would enforce the needed discipline. I did not at first fully understand him but I happened to be approved of by him and, in turn, to approve of what he was then working for. And for his continued generosity towards me personally I was, and can still only be, deeply grateful. His mind moved very quickly and firmly and his energy appeared to be inexhaustible. It was a temptation to turn to him to get things done. At the particular time of our first meetings he acted as a catalyst for my gropings as to what could be done to give our work in the CND new life. He was very keen to start a movement of civil disobedience that might grow into a mass movement of general opposition to governmental nuclear policies so strong as to force its opinions upon the Government directly. It was to be a mass movement, no matter from how small beginnings. In this it was new, differing from the old Direct Action Committee's aspirations in that theirs were too often concerned with individual testimony by way of salving individual consciences.
The scheme seemed to me to have great possibilities and the more I talked with Schoenman the more favourable to it I became. I was aware that the chairman of the CND did not approve of civil disobedience and had little sympathy with even the Direct Action Committee. I also knew that the CND tolerated and was coming more and more to support in words if not in action its activities. I discussed the matter with the chairman. He did not dispute the possible efficiency of civil disobedience or oppose my upholding such a new movement. He only urged me not to make any announcement about this fresh effort till after the Conference of the Labour Party, when he hoped that the Party might 'go unilateral' and take up at least some of our doctrines. To this I readily agreed.
Knowing that the chairman would neither oppose nor aid the new movement, it did not occur to me to consult him about our day to day preparations. I went to work with Schoemnan to prepare a list of people who might be approached to uphold such a movement. Letters went out to them over my name. I was very insistent that letters should go to no one who was not known to us as being sympathetic, but, unfortunately, mistakes were made. One letter was sent to someone with a name similar to the intended recipient but with a different address and entirely, unhappily, different views. He at once sent our letter to the Evening Standard with a scathing letter of his own about our activities and intentions. This was published considerably before our plans were thoroughly formed or the participants gathered, and worse still, before the chairman thought the project should be revealed. There was a big meeting in Trafalgar Square on September 24th at which I spoke. Before it took place, I suggested to the chairman that I speak of the proposed new mass movement of civil disobedience within the CND. He replied that it might injure CND's chances of influencing the Labour Conference. I said that I would consult Frank Cousins, the head of the Transport Workers' Union, and if he felt it in any way dangerous to the desires of CND, I would not touch upon the subject. Frank Cousins replied to my letter briefly, saying that it did not matter one way or the other what I did or said. I informed the chairman of Cousins's letter and of my consequent intention to speak of the new movement. He accepted this, and I spoke of the new movement in Trafalgar Square.
After the announcement in the Evening Standard of the proposed mass movement of civil disobedience, it was necessary to hurry through our plans. But the event caused a great uproar. The chairman of CND made statements to his friends and to the Executive Committee and to the press which, in effect, charged me with starting a new movement behind his back and one not permissible within the rulings of CND. During the first week of October, I met with him daily for many hours at my house in Hasker Street to try to work out some modus vivendi. He brought with him to these meetings a friend who was not an upholder of methods of civil disobedience, to put it mildly, so I asked a member of the CND Executive Committee who professed then to be in sympathy with me, to come as balance. At my insistence, because there had been so many allegations as to what I had said and not said, a tape recording was taken of these meetings, a copy of which was sent to the CND offices for the chairman and the original of which I kept.
By October 7th we had come to an agreement which would permit us to continue to work together and gave a statement to that effect to the press. But within a short time it became evident to me that I could not continue in my position of president of the CND, which necessitated work with its chairman, and that, if only to preserve the harmonious working of the CND itself, I must resign. This I did in a letter to the press, following a letter to the chairman.
The result of all this was, for me, a shower - a storm - of letters and visits from upholders of the CND throughout the country, expostulating with me and, most of them, accusing me of causing a split in the CND. This surprised me, as I had no intention of doing so. Nor do I think that I did. Moreover, I observed no weakening in its work owing to my action. It seemed to me that the CND would get on better if it had officers who saw, at least broadly, eye to eye than it would do under the leadership of those who patently did not trust each other. I had no intention, as I said and continued repeatedly to say, of withdrawing my support of much CND work. I sent statements to the various branches of the CND explaining this and the reasons for my actions. So far as I know, these statements went unread. At the CND Executive Meeting on November 5th, my resignation was accepted. One member, I was told, wished me to be sued for libel because of something I had said or written. He was persuaded not to proceed - which was perhaps, for my personal reputation, a pity. I continued to speak at meetings of the CND at which I was asked to speak, and I remained at the head of the Welsh CND. I withdrew only my interest in CND policy-making and any responsibility that, as its president, I had for the actions of its officers.
Meantime, the new movement towards mass civil disobedience bad come to be called the Committee of 100. I had been in frequent touch with the small company of young people who were its early upholders. Inspired largely by the enthusiasm of Ralph Schoenman, this company had grown into a fairly large and steadily expanding group. Early in September he had brought the Rev. Michael Scott to see me. Scott was an active member of the Direct Action Committee and became one of die most stalwart members of the Committee of 100. I saw him as well as Schoenman almost daily, and he and I published under our joint names a leaflet entitled 'Act or Perish' which presents the nucleus of the policy of the Committee.
The early members of the Committee of 100 were for the most part drawn from the CND and the ranks of the Direct Action Committee. There was much activity and there were daily meetings, most of which I could not, and was not expected to, attend. I spoke for the Committee, I think, only at a meeting in Friends House, Euston, in October, 1960, and, again, at a press conference held in Kingsway Hall in December. Gradually, adherents were drawn from outside the fold, a process greatly accelerated both by the opposition widely felt to the establishment of the us Polaris Base at Holy Loch, and especially, by the announcement of the first proposed demonstration of civil disobedience. This was to be a 'sit-down' - of at least two thousand people, it was hoped - outside the Ministry of Defence on February 18th, 1961. It was planned that each succeeding demonstration would demand the participation of more people, the number increasing at each fresh demonstration until a really mass movement was achieved. To ensure a good beginning it was decided to pledge as many as possible to take part in the first sit-down.
The activity of the Committee was intense during the days preceding February 18th. Posters went up (and were torn down), people were stopped in the street and approached in pubs and cafés and were argued with till they were converted to the need of the coming demonstration. But of all this I only heard. I took part only in endless discussions.
I hope that no one who reads these pages will think that I am attempting to write a history of the Committee of 100 or of the CND or, indeed, of any other movement or public event. I am trying only to recount what I remember that affected my own life.
My enthusiasm was high for the work and preparations that were being made for February 18th, and I was in complete agreement with the plans and with the aspirations of the Committee. I have already written in this volume of my views of civil disobedience, and I stated them publicly in speeches and articles at this time, notably in an article in the New Statesman for February 17th. My sole misgivings were connected with the hurried and piece-meal way in which our policies had been worked out owing to their premature publication and with the dread lest it might be too difficult - impossible, perhaps to avoid violence in such a crowd, considering the opposition that might be encountered. Passive resistance, it seemed to me, might be very difficult to inculcate amid such enthusiasm. In the event, it posed no difficulty.
The morning of February 18th was dark and drizzly and cold, and our spirits plummeted. If it rained, the numbers participating in the demonstration would undoubtedly dwindle in spite of the large nucleus already pledged to take part. But when we assembled in Trafalgar Square there was a great crowd. Precisely how great it was, it is impossible to say. The median number as reckoned by the press and the police and the Committee made it about 20,000. The speeches went well and quickly. Then began the march up Whitehall preceded by a large banner and managed with great skill by the Committee's marshals. It comprised a surging but calm and serious crowd of somewhat over 5,000 of those who had been in the Square. At one point we were held up by the police who tried to stop the march on the ground that it was obstructing traffic. The objection, however, manifestly did not hold, and the march proceeded. Finally, over 5,000 people were sitting or tying on the pavements surrounding the Ministry. And there we sat for about two hours till darkness had fallen, a very solid and quiet, if not entirely mute, protest against governmental nuclear policies. A good many people joined us during this time, and more came to have a look at us, and, of course, the press and TV people flocked about asking their questions. As soon as word came that the marchers had all become seated, Michael Scott and Schoenman and I took a notice that we had prepared and stuck it on the Ministry door. We learned that the Government had asked the Fire Department to use their hoses upon us. Luckily, the Fire Department refused. When six o'clock arrived, we called an end to the sit-down. A wave of exultation swept through the crowd. As we marched back towards Whitehall in the dusk and lamplight, past the cheering supporters, I felt very happy - we had accomplished what we set out to do that afternoon, and our serious purpose had been made manifest. I was moved, too, by the cheers that greeted me and by the burst of 'for he's a jolly good fellow' as I passed.
The demonstration was much more auspicious than we had any right to expect. During the next months the fortunes of the Committee prospered. Branch Committees were established about the country and in some foreign countries; and some countries developed their own Committees. All the correspondence entailed by this activity and by the necessary printing and dissemination of 'literature' (leaflets, statements, etc.) not to speak of the need to keep some kind of office, cost a good deal. This, of course, as it always does in any organisation without fixed membership or dues, meant much time wasted in raising funds. Nevertheless, and owing to the generous and often self-sacrificing voluntary efforts of many people, the Committee grew in strength.
To show my continued support of the CND, I spoke to the Youth CND of Birmingham in mid-March and again in mid-April. One of these speeches caused turmoil because of a remark that I made about our then Prime Minister. The remark was widely quoted out of context by the press. In context, it is merely a QED to the preceding argument. Unfortunately, by the time the uproar had broken, I had fallen ill and was unable to defend myself for some weeks, too late to cut any ice. I spoke, also, at the meeting in Trafalgar Square at the end of the Aldermaston March.
Towards the end of March, I had arranged with Penguin Books, who, in turn, had arranged with my usual publisher, Sir Stanley Unwin, to write a further book for them on nuclear matters and disarmament, carrying on my Common Sense and Nuclear Warfare and expanding parts of it. The new book was to be called Has Man a Future? and I began work on it at once. But it was interrupted by a series of recordings that I made in London and by the two Birmingham meetings and then by a very bad bout of shingles which prevented my doing any work whatsoever for some time. But during my convalescence I wrote a good deal of the new book, and it was finished in time to meet its first deadline. It was published in the autumn.
On August 6th, 'Hiroshima Day', the Committee of 100 arranged to have two meetings: a ceremony in the morning of laying a wreath upon the Cenotaph in Whitehall and, in the afternoon, a meeting for speeches to be made at Marble Arch. The former was carried out with dignity. We wished to remind people of the circumstances of the nuclear bomb at Hiroshima. We also thought that, in commemorating the British dead, we might call attention to the fact that it was up to the living to prevent their deaths from going for nothing. We hoped in the afternoon's speeches to support this point of view. To many people, however, to bracket the deaths at Hiroshima and Nagasaki with the deaths of those who fought the Japanese in the Second War was blasphemous. It is doubtful if many of these same people object to the statue of General Washington or of General Smuts being given places of public honour.
The meeting in Hyde Park was a lively one. The police had forbidden us to use microphones as their use was prohibited by Park rules. This ruling had been overlooked in many previous cases, but was firmly held to in our case. We had determined to try to use microphones, partly because we knew that they would be necessary to make ourselves heard, and partly to expose the odd discrepancy in the enforcement of Park rules. We were, after all, an organisation devoted to civil disobedience. I, therefore, started to speak through a microphone. A policeman quietly remonstrated. I persisted. And the microphone was removed by the police. We then adjourned the meeting, announcing that we would march to Trafalgar Square to continue it. All this we had planned, and the plan was carried out with some success. What we had not counted on was a thunderstorm of majestic proportions which broke as the crowd moved down Oxford Street and continued throughout most of the meeting in the Square.
A month later, as we returned from an afternoon's drive in North Wales, we found a pleasant, though much embarrassed, Police Sergeant astride his motorcycle at our front door. He delivered summonses to my wife and me to be at Bow Street on September 12th to be charged with inciting the public to civil disobedience. The summons was said to be delivered to all the leaders of the Committee but, in fact, it was delivered only to some of them. Very few who were summoned refused to appear.
We went up to London to take the advice of our solicitors and, even more important, to confer with our colleagues. I had no wish to become a martyr to the cause, but I felt that I should make the most of any chance to publicise our views. We were not so innocent as to fail to see that our imprisonment would cause a certain stir. We hoped that it might create enough sympathy for some, at least, of our reasons for doing as we had done to break through to minds hitherto untouched by them. We had obtained from our doctors statements of our recent serious illnesses which they thought would make long imprisonment disastrous. These we handed over to the barrister who was to watch our cases at Bow Street. No one we met seemed to believe that we should be condemned to gaol. They thought the Government would think that it would not pay them. But we, ourselves, did not see how they could fail to sentence us to gaol. For some time it had been evident that our doings irked the Government, and the police had been raiding the Committee office and doing a clumsy bit of spying upon various members who frequented it. The barrister thought that he could prevent my wife's and my incarceration entirely. But we did not wish either extreme. We instructed him to try to prevent our being let off scot-free, but, equally, to try to have us sentenced to not longer than a fortnight in prison. In the event, we were each sentenced to two months in gaol, a sentence which, because of the doctors' statements, was commuted to a week each.
Bow Street seemed like a stage set as we walked down it with our colleagues amid a mass of onlookers towards the Court at a little before 10.30 in the morning. People were crowded into most of the windows, some of which were bright with boxes of flowers. By contrast the scene in the courtroom looked like a Daumier etching. When the sentence of two months was pronounced upon me cries of 'Shame, shame, an old man of eighty-eight!' arose from the onlookers. It angered me. I knew that it was well meant, but I had deliberately incurred the punishment and, in any case, I could not see that age had anything to do with guilt. If anything, it made me the more guilty. The magistrate seemed to me nearer the mark in observing that, from his point of view, I was old enough to know better. But on the whole both the Court and the police behaved more gently to us all than I could have hoped. A policeman, before proceedings began, searched the building for a cushion for me to sit upon to mitigate the rigours of the narrow wooden bench upon which we perched. None could be found - for which I was thankful - but I took his effort kindly. I felt some of the sentences to be quite unduly harsh, but I was outraged only by the words of the magistrate to one of us who happened to be a Jewish refugee from Germany. The police witness appeared to me to cut a poor figure in giving evidence. Our people, I thought, spoke well and with dignity and very tellingly. Neither of these observations surprised me. And I was pleased to be permitted to say most of what I had planned to say.
By the end of the morning all our cases had been heard and we were given an hour for lunch. My wife and I returned to Chelsea. We emerged from the Court into cheering crowds, and to my confusion one lady rushed up and embraced me. But from the morning's remarks of the magistrate and his general aspect, we were not hopeful of getting off lightly when we returned to receive our sentences in the afternoon. As each person in alphabetical order was sentenced, he or she was taken out to the cells where we behaved like boys on holiday, singing and telling stories, the tension of incertitude relaxed, nothing more to try to do till we were carted away in our Black Marias.
It was my first trip in a Black Maria as the last time I had been gaoled I had been taken to Brixton in a taxi, but I was too tired to enjoy the novelty. I was popped into the hospital wing of the prison and spent most of my weds in bed, visited daily by the doctor who saw that I got the kind of liquid food that I could consume. No one can pretend to a liking for being imprisoned, unless, possibly, for protective custody. It is a frightening experience. The dread of particular, severe or ill treatment and of physical discomfort is perhaps the least of it. The worst is the general atmosphere, the sense of being always under observation, the dead cold and gloom and the always noted, unmistakable, prison smell - and the eyes of some of the other prisoners. We had all this for only a week. We were very conscious of the continuing fact that many of our friends were undergoing it for many weeks and that we were spared only through special circumstances, not through less 'guilt', in so far as there was any guilt.
Meantime the Committee of 100 had put out a leaflet with my message from Brixton. On the back of the leaflet was its urgent appeal to all sympathisers to congregate in Trafalgar Square at 5 o'clock on Sunday, September 17th, for a march to Parliament Square where a public assembly was to be held and a sit-down. The Home Secretary bad issued a Public Order against cur use of Trafalgar Square on that occasion, but the Committee had determined that this would be no deterrent. Unfortunately for us, my wife and I were still in gaol and were not released till the following day. I say unfortunately because It must have been a memorable and exhilarating occasion.
We delighted in our reunion in freedom at home very early on Monday morning. But almost at once we were besieged by the press and radio and TV people who swarmed into Hasker Street. Our continued involvement with them prevented us from learning for some time all that had been happening since the Bow Street session of the previous week. From what we had learned from the papers that we had seen in prison, we knew that all sorts of meetings and sit-downs had been held, not only in Britain, but also in many other countries, protesting against our imprisonment. Moreover, my wife had gathered from some of the prisoners at Holloway that the demonstration of the 17th was a success. They had listened to the radio and stood on the balcony above their nets in the great hall of the prison making the sign of thumbs-up to her and shouting excitedly that the sit-down was going splendidly. We learned only gradually quite how unbelievably great a success it had been.
The full story of that demonstration I must leave to some historian or participant to tell. The Important part is that unprecedented numbers took part. It augured well for an approach to the mass movement that we desired. By early evening the Square and the streets leading to it were packed with people sitting down and with people coming only to observe what was going on who tried to force themselves into possible observation points. There was no question of marching to Parliament Square. No one could get through, though attempts were made. There was no violence, no hullabaloo on the part of the sitters-down. They were serious. And some of them were making what was individually an heroic gesture. For Instance, Augustus John, an old man, who had been, and was, very ill (it was a short time before his death) emerged from the National Gallery, walked into the Square and sat down. No one knew of his plan to do so and few recognised him. I learned of his action only much later, but I record it with admiration. There were other cases of what amounted to heroism in testifying to a profound belief. There were also a good many ludicrous happenings, particularly, I was told, later in the evening when various notabilities arrived to see how things were going and were mistaken by the police for ardent upholders of the Committee and were piled, protesting, into Black Marias. But the police could hardly be blamed for such mistakes. In the vast crowd individual identities could not be distinguished, even in a dogcollar. The police could, however, be very much blamed for their not infrequent brutality. This could not be disputed, since there were many pictures taken which sometimes caught instances of regrettable police action.
Television and press accounts and pictures of this demonstration and of the preceding gaolings appeared in countries throughout the world. They had an excellent effect in setting people everywhere thinking about what we were doing and attempting to do and why. That was what we had hoped would happen, but we had not prepared sufficiently for the overwhelming publicity and interest that would be generated. From the beginning we had been careful to arrange that only certain of our members would expose themselves to possible imprisonment at any particular demonstration. There was always to be a corps of leaders to carry on the work. But the Government, by sentencing a large number, not for any particular misdeed at any particular time, but for the general charge of incitement, had managed to disrupt this rota. Added to this, were the arrests made during the general scrum of the September 17th sit-down when track could hardly be kept of who might be arrested and who not. The result was that there were very few experienced members of the Committee left to deal with pressing matters and future plans. I was tired and kept busy by matters that only I could deal with arising chiefly from my imprisonment. All this was a grievous pity for we had been given a great chance which we were unable to avail ourselves of fully.
At the end of the week after gaol we retúrned to North Wales but the barrage of press and TV interviews continued wherever we were and, of course, there were daily visitors from all over - Italians, Japanese, French, Belgian, Singalese, Dutch, South and North Americans, etc., etc. It was all wearing, and when we could we drove off into the country by ourselves. We had a number of adventures. One afternoon we walked along a sandy beach and around a rocky point to a cove. The rocks of the point were covered by dried seaweed. At first we tested the solidity of the way, but we grew careless, and unexpectedly I, who was ahead, sank to my thighs. At each move, I sank further. My wife was only at the edge of the bad patch. She managed to crawl to a rock and finally to haul me out. On other occasions, our car got stuck in the sand or in the bog and had to be pulled out - once, to our amused annoyance, by a nuclear station's van.
When we returned to London, too, we had adventures. One morning two young men and a young woman appeared upon my doorstep and demanded to see me as, they said, they wished to discuss antinuclear work. I discussed matters with them for some time and thea intimated that it was time for them to go. They refused to go. Nothing that I or my housekeeper - we were the only people in the house could say would budge them, and we were far from being strong enough to move them. They proceeded to stage a sit-down in my drawing-room. With some misgivings, I sent for the police. Their behaviour was impeccable. They did not even smile, much less jeer. And they evicted the sitters-down. The latter were later discovered, I was told, to be a young actress who wanted publicity and two of her admirers wishing to help her. They got the publicity and provided me with a good story and much entertainment. Some of the Committee were rather annoyed by my having called in the police.
During the next months there were a number of Committee of 100 meetings, both public and private, at which I spoke, notably in Trafalgar Square on October 29th and in Cardiff on November 1st. Demonstrations had been announced for December 9th to be held at various US air and nuclear bases in the country. But in planning this the Committee, in its inexperience of holding large demonstrations not in London but in the country, were too optimistic, especially in matters relating to transportation. For instance, they felt sure that the buses that they hired to take demonstrators from London to one of the targets, Wethersfield, would turn up since the bus drivers themselves had professed themselves sympathetic to the Committee's views. But, as some of us had feared, the bus company refused its buses to the Committee at the last minute. Some hardy and determined demonstrators made their way to Wethersfield by other means, but the loss of the buses and the lack of any alternative arrangements meant that the numbers were very much less than had been expected. The further difficulties encountered were great: The machinations of the police who had raided the Committee rooms and harried its members, and the opposition of the Government, which employed a large number of its ground and air force, its guard dogs and fire hoses to protect the Committee's targets from unarmed people pledged to non-violence. Nevertheless, the demonstration made a good showing. The Committee had made a mistake, however, in announcing beforehand that it would make a better showing than it could possibly hope to do and in not planning thoroughly for alternatives in foreseeable difficulties.
The Committee had already begun to weaken itself in other ways. Long discussions were beginning to be held amongst its members as to whether the Committee should devote itself only to nuclear and disarmament matters or should begin to oppose all domestic, social and governmental injustice. This was a waste of time and a dispersal of energies. Such widespread opposition, if to be indulged in at all, was obviously a matter for the far future when the Committee's power and capabilities were consolidated. By such projects consolidation could only be delayed. Again, this unfortunate tendency was the outcome, largely, of the practical political and administrative inexperience of the Committee added to the over-estimation of the meaning of September 17th's success. The latter should have been regarded as very great encouragement but not as, by any means, the certain promise of a mass civil disobedience movement. In proportion to the population of the country, the movement was still small and too unproved to stand against determined opposition. Unfortunately, the comparative failure of December 9th was considered only as a discouragement, not as a lesson towards a period of consolidation. I tried in my public statements at the time to overcome the discouragement and, privately, to inculcate the lesson. But in both attempts I failed.
The immediate aftermath of the demonstration of December 9th was the charging of five leaders of the Committee under the Official Secrets Act of 1911. It was, from a layman's point of view, a curiously conducted trial. The prosecution was allowed to present its case in full, resting on the question as to whether it was prejudicial to the safety of the nation for unauthorised people to enter the Wethersfield air field with the intention of immobilising and grounding the aircraft there. The defence's case was that such stations as Wethersfield, like all the stations engaged in nuclear 'defence' of the country, were in themsleves prejudicial to the safety of the country. Professor Linus Pauling, the physicist, and Sir Robert Watson-Watt, the inventor of radar, who had come from the United States to give evidence as to the dangers of the present nuclear policy of which Wethersfield was a part, and I were kept hanging about for many hours. Then all our testimony, like that of other defence witnesses, of whom some, I believe, were not permitted to be called at all, was declared irrelevant to the charges and ruled out. It was managed quite legally, but all loopholes were ruthlessly blocked against the defence and made feasible for the prosecution. There were a few bright moments, to be sure: when Air Commander MacGill, the prosecution's chief witness was asked how far it was from London to Wethersfield, he replied, 'in a fast plane, about fifty miles'. The jury returned the verdict guilty, though, and this is rather interesting, they were out for four and a half hours. No one had believed any other verdict possible under the circumstances. The five convicted men were given gaol sentences of eighteen months apiece; the one woman, the welfare secretary of the Committee, was given a year.
I felt keenly that I, since I had encouraged the demonstration but had not been able to take part, was as guilty as the condemned and I managed when I was finally able to speak at the trial to say so. Many others felt likewise, and, after the trial, we repaired to the Cannon Street police station to declare ourselves guilty. As was to be expected, no notice was taken of our declarations though they were received civilly by the police. The Committee held a meeting in Trafalgar Square to state the significance of the trial and its own attitude towards it. In snow and gale, Sir Robert Watson-Watt and I and a number of others spoke to a not inconsiderable audience.
For some time thereafter I had little to do in the way of public speaking for the Committee. During that last week of July the Committee as well as the CND sent participants to the 'World Disarmament Conference' held in Moscow. Just as it was about to start, I received a request from Professor Bernal pressing me to send a representative with a message to the conference. Christopher Farley, who had participated both in the planning and in the action of the Committee, went on my behalf. While he was there, he, in company with some other non-communists, held a public meeting in Red Square and handed out leaflets. This was illegal, and was vehemently opposed, by a variety of means, by the chairman of the CND who was there. It was also opposed by others, even some who at home, indulged in civil disobedience. They felt that they were guests of the Russians and should abide by the strict laws of hospitality. The meeting was dispersed, but its holders were triumphant in the belief that they had pointed out the international character of the civil disobedience movement and had been able to hold something of a debate before being dispersed. At the time, I received only hot objections, but no reasons were given for the objections. When Farley returned and I heard what he had to say, I felt that he had done the right thing in backing the meeting, and that it had helped to establish the fact that we were neutral and should invoke civil disobedience wherever we could in a cause which was international.
Towards the end of August the Committee began to put into effect its plan for a demonstration on September 9th. Taking warning from the previous December 9th, they decided to return to central London and to pledge people to take part. They announced that they would not hold the demonstration if they could not get 7,000 pledges. As September 9th drew near, it became evident that they could not procure this number of pledges in time. I felt very strongly that, in view of their public announcement, they should abandon the demonstration, especially as to hold to their promise those who had pledged would be to ask them to attend the demonstration unprotected by the promised number of co-participants. The secretary of the London Committee was very loath to give up and many members thought that it was unnecessary to do so. This flouting of a given promise disgusted me, and added itself to my growing belief that the Committee was disintegrating. In the end, the demonstration was called off.
During the time since the Secrets trial many things had been happening to me unconnected with the Committee - lunches such as the one given me by the foreign journalists in London, TV broadcasts such as the long one for United States consumption at which the interlocutor was named Susskind, visits from travelling dignitaries such as that of the five leading Russian journalists who spent an afternoon with me in Wales. We also went on a holiday drive for somewhat over a fortnight at the end of March, a holiday which was a total failure since the weather was cold, raw, and dreary and we were both ill throughout with raging colds. The most important events in relation to my own life were those centring about my ninetieth birthday on May 18th.
I looked forward to my birthday celebrations, I confess, with considerable trepidation, for I had been informed of their prospect though told nothing of the toil and anxiety that was going into their consummation. Only afterwards did I hear of the peculiar obstructions caused by impresarios and the managers of concert halls, or of the extreme kindness and generosity of conductors and orchestras and soloists. I only gradually learned of the immense amount of time and energy, thought and sheer determination to give me pleasure expended by my friends for many weeks. The most active of these was Ralph Schoenman who was chiefly responsible for all aspects of the concert, including the excellently arranged and, to me, most pleasing programme. When I did learn all this, I was deeply touched, as I was by die parties themselves. And to my surprise, I found that I enjoyed greatly being the centre of such unexpectedly friendly plaudits and encomiums.
On my birthday itself, we had a jolly family teaparty with two of my grandchildren and my London housekeeper Jean Redmond and, to celebrate, a fine cake topped appropriately by a small constable (donated by the baker) bearing one candle for good luck. In the evening, a dinner arranged by A. J. Ayer and Rupert Crawshay-Williams took place at the Café Royal. It seemed to me a happy occasion. Some of my friends made speeches: Ayer and Julian Huxley spoke most kindly of me and E. M. Forster recalled the early Cambridge days and spoke delightfully about my old friend Bob Trevelyan. And I met for the first time the Head of my family, the Duke of Bedford and his wife. I admired his determination to keep Woburn a private estate at however great cost to himself and against great odds. I also liked his unconventionality. I had been told that when asked to speak at the concert in my honour, he had accepted without hesitation. So I was prepared to like him - and I was not disappointed. The evening was not less enjoyable for me in re-establishing connection with a number of old friends such as Arthur Waley and Miles Malleson as well as in making a few new ones.
Of the celebration party at Festival Hall, under the kind aegis of its manager, T. E. Bean, that took place the next afternoon, I do not know what to say or how to say it. I had been told that there would be music and presentations to me, but I could not know beforehand how lovely the music would be, either the orchestral part under Colin Davis or the solo work by Lili Kraus. Nor could I know how touching and generous would be the presentation speeches: by Ralph Schoenman, the Master of Ceremonies; Victor Purcell; Mrs Sonning of Denmark; Ernst Willi, the Swiss sculptor; Money Nkosi of Africa; Vanessa Redgrave, the actress; and my cousin Ian Bedford. Some of those who could not be there had sent gifts which were presented to me - a bust of Socrates from my cousin Flora Russell and an excellent portrait of me from its painter Hans Erni. And many people had sent messages which Schoenman read out or had printed in the 'Tribute Programme'. It had a photograph of me taken by T. E. Morris of Portmadoc on its cover. I have been told that it has been sent to people all over the world. The Musicians Union refused to have the music recorded and the BBC refused to record any of the proceedings. The gifts, the programme, the record that was privately made of the proceedings, and, especially, the warm friendliness that I felt in the audience as well as in the actors, I still, and always shall, treasure. At the time I was so deeply moved that I felt I could not utter a word, much less find words that might express my feeling of gratitude and of what the occasion meant to me. But, mercifully, words came. I do not think that I can say again so freshly or with such entire, unconsidered sincerity what I felt then, so I give my speech itself, taking it from the recording: 'Friends,
'This is an occasion that I hardly know how to find words for. I am more touched than I can say, and more deeply than I can ever hope to express. I have to give my very warmest possible thanks to those who have worked to produce this occasion: to the performers, whose exquisite music, exquisitely performed, was so full of delight; to those who worked in less conspicuous ways, like my friend Mr Schoenman; and to all those who have given me gifts - gifts which are valuable in themselves, and also as expressions of an undying hope for this dangerous world.
'I have a very simple creed: that life and joy and beauty are better than dusty death, and I think when we listen to such music as we heard today we must all of us feel that the capacity to produce such music, and the capacity to hear such music, is a thing worth preserving and should not be thrown away in foolish squabbles. You may say it's a simple creed, but I think everything important is very simple indeed. I've found that creed sufficient, and I should think that a great many of you would also find it sufficient, or else you would hardly be here.
'But now I just want to say how it's difficult, when one has embarked upon a course which invites a greater or less degree of persecution and obloquy and abuse, to find instead that one is welcomed as I have been today. It makes one feel rather humble, and I feel I must try to live up to the feelings that have produced this occasion. I hope I shall; and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.'
The last formal celebration of my birthday took place the following week when Fenner Brockway most kindly invited me to a luncheon in my honour at the House of Commons. I was somewhat nervous of this as it seemed unlikely to me that any Members of either House would turn up to do me honour. My tension mounted as we waited in an anteroom to be led to the Harcourt Room where the banquet was to take place and, again, stood at the door rather wistfully watching the Members fortify themselves with preprandial drinks. But, when the party began, it was pleasant and friendly, and I thought it generous of many of those present to be there. I had not for some time been pulling my punches in regard to the activities of politicians, nor, I fear, did I on this occasion, seeing a chance and, indeed, an obligation, to speak to them direct.
When all this pleasant fuss to do with my becoming a nonagenarian had passed, we retired to Wales, returning to London only for a few days in July for the purpose of talking with U Thant about international nuclear and disarmament policies. This was the first time that I had met him and I was greatly impressed not only by his energy and clear grasp of affairs, but by his balanced objectivity and thoughtfulness and his delightful good humour. At this time, too, I paid my first visit to Woburn Abbey. I found the grandeurs of the house very pleasing and the lovely serenity of the Park, with its great trees sheltering Father David's deer and its wide quiet stretches of green turf, very calming.
The last months of that year were taken up with the Cuban crisis and then with the Sino-Indian Border dispute. Early in December, Penguin accepted my offer to write my account of these two happenings which I did in January. It was published by Penguin and Allen & Unwin in April under the title Unarmed Victory. I have told in it all there is to tell of any interest about my thought and action at that tune, and I do not propose to repeat it all here. Perhaps I should add, however, that I regret nothing that I did at that time in relation to these two crises. My point of view upon them, in spite of further study, remains the same. I will give my critics only this olive branch: I am sorry that I did not couch my telegram of October 23rd to President Kennedy more gently. Its directness made it unlikely to cut much ice, I agree. But I had as little hope then as I should have in similar circumstances now of wise and quick withdrawal on the part of the us Government.
I had become so tried by the folly of some of the leading members of the Committee of 100 during the events of September and by the growing dissipation of the Committee's policies that, early in January, I resigned from the Main Committee in London. I did not wish, however, to go into these reasons in my public resignation. I based it upon the equally valid and conclusive reason that my increasing absences in Wales prevented me from participating usefully in the work of the Main Committee. I still have great sympathy with the early aims and actions of the Committee, and I should support any recrudescence of them if they seemed to me to stand any chance of success. Mass civil disobedience still seems to me one of the most effective ways of attacking present international policies which remain as bad as they were then, if not worse.
The British Government, meanwhile, had its own plans for what to do in the event of nuclear war. What these plans were we learned, in part, from an organisation which called itself 'Spies for Peace'. This organisation had succeeded in ascertaining the secret plans of Authority to be put into force on the outbreak of war. Britain was to be divided into a number of regions, each with its own government, each with autocratic power, each composed of a pre-arranged corps of officials who were to live in supposed safety in underground 'Regional Seats of Government' and decide (so far as the enemy allowed) what was to become of the rest of us, and, in particular, what was to be done about fall-out if and while we remained alive. It was feared that possibly the prospect of such measures might not please the populace, and must therefore be kept secret. 'Spies for Peace' had discovered some of the documents involved, and were anxious to publish them. They had no funds, and appealed to me. I gave them £50 with my blessing. As soon as possible the documents were published, and copies were distributed among the Aldermaston marchers.
Unfortunately (as I felt) the leaders of CND were stocked that secret methods should be employed by pacifists. They did what they could to impede the spread of knowledge which the 'Spies' had sought to secure. A fresh batch of documents which they had secured was taken to the editor of a leading pacifist journal under the impression that he would publicise their information. But he, horrified by the disclosures and the retribution their publication would undoubtedly call down, sent the documents to the mother of one of the 'Spies' and she, fearing a police raid, burnt them. So died our hope of learning Government plans for governmental salvation and the succour of such members of the public as might be allowed to live. This bitter blow to the clarification of our position and to a great impetus to work for peace was dealt by well-meaning and not unknowledgeable pacifists.
Letters
To and from Ernest Jones
Plas Penrhyn 2 February, 1957
Dear Dr Jones
I enclose a copy of a letter from an eminent Anglican divine. It seems to me a document worthy to go into your case-book. I should be very grateful if you felt inclined to send me any comments on it.
Yours sincerely Russell
The following is the letter I sent to Dr Jones (without the Bishop's address or signature):
From the Bishop of Rochester
Personal Biskopscourt Rochester Jan: 29. 1957
Dear Lord Russell
It has been laid upon my conscience to write to you, after your article in the Sunday Times on the 'Great Mystery' of survival after death; seeing that you at 84 stand yourself upon that threshold.
Your contemporaries, like myself, acclaim you the greatest brain of our generation. And many must believe, with me, that if only your moral stature had matched your intellectual power and other singular endowments, you could have saved us from a second World War. Instead, in your book on Companionate Marriage, Marriage and Morals (1929), the cloven hoof of the lecher cannot be disguised; and it is lechery that has been your Achilles heel, blinding your great mind from discerning that infinitely greater Mind behind all phenomena, such as has formed your enthralling study. Only the pure in heart can see God; and four wives, with three divorces, must be an awful and bitter humiliation, showing the man himself, entrusted with such a magnificent brain.
Moreover, I cannot but believe that you must at times be haunted by the remembrances of the murder, suicide, and untold misery, between the wars, caused by the experiments of young people with Companionate Marriage, of which you were the Apostle, with all the immense authority of your fame. I am an old man myself of 72, but with no outstanding gifts or learning; and yet I would, in humble sincerity, make my own, to you, what that Dr M. J. Routh, who died in bis hundredth year as President of Magdalen, Oxford, (1854), wrote to a Quaker acquaintance in the condemned cell:
'Sir, this comes from one who, like yourself, has not long to live, being in his ninetieth year. He has had more opportunity than most for distinctly knowing that the scriptures of the New Testament were written by the Apostles of the Saviour of mankind. In these Scriptures it is expressly said that the blood of Jesus Christ cleanses from all sin, and that if we confess our sins, God, being merciful and just, will forgive us our sins on our repentance. Think, say, and do everything in your power to save your soul, before you go into another life.'
You may know that the great Bishop Joseph Butler of Durham, your peer as regards intellect, died with this verse from I John, I. 7, in his ears, and whispering: 'Oh! but this is comfortable.'
I pray God that you will recognise that, for some reason, I have been filled with a deep concern for you.
Yours sincerely Christopher Roffen
The Plat, Elsted Nr. Midhurst, Sx. Feb. 4, 1957
Dear Russell
I am a little surprised that you should find the Anglican's letter at all odd. I should have thought you received many such, and indeed I even wonder how many masses are already being said for your soul.
The interest of such letters is of course the calm identification of wickedness with sexual activity. Freud used to think that the main function of religion was to check man's innate aggressivity (the obvious source of all wickedness), but it is curious how often religious teachers bring it back again to sexuality. That makes one think there must be some deep connection between the two, and we believe nowadays that much aggressivity, possibly all, can ultimately be traced to the innumerable forms of sexual frustration. It remains noteworthy, however, that you, our leading apostle of true morality (love, charity, tolerance, etc.) should be cast into perdition for not accepting the Catholic view of marriage.
If you want a psycho-analytic comment on the letter there is a clue in the omnipotence he attributes to you (ability to stop wars, etc.). That can only point to a gigantic father figure (an earthly God), whose only sin, much resented by the son, was his sleeping with the mother. It is curious that such people are never shocked at God's adulterous behaviour with the Virgin Alary. It needs a lot of purification.
yours sincerely Ernest Jones
Plas Penrhyn 14 March, 1957
Dear Jones
Thank you for your very pleasant letter of February 4. Ever since I got it, I have been luxuriating in the pleasure of seeing myself as a formidable father-figure inspiring terror in the Anglican hierarchy. What surprised me about the letter I sent you was that I had imagined eminent Anglican Divines to be usually fairly civilised people. I get hundreds of letters very similar to the one I sent you, but they are generally from people with very little education. I cannot make up my mind whether the writer of the letter is gnawed with remorse for the sins he has committed or filled with regret for those that he has not committed.
Yours sincerely Russell
From and to Lord Russell of Liverpool
Old Warren Farm Wimbledon Common S.W.19 13/2[1959]
Dear Lord Russell
I am forwarding the enclosed as Monsieur Edmond Paris, and he is not alone, has got us mixed up. The first paragraph of his letter refers to you. The others are for me and I shall be replying to them. Would you please return the letter when you have read it.
Ys. truly Russell of Liverpool
Plas Penrhyn 18 February, 1959
Dear Lord Russell
Thank you for your letter and for the enclosure which I return herewith. I have been wondering whether there is any means of preventing the confusion between you and me, and I half-thought that we might write a joint letter to The Times in the following terms: Sir, To prevent the continuation of confusions which frequently occur, we beg to state that neither of us is the other. Do you think this would be a good plan?
Yours sincerely Russell
Old Warren Farm Wimbledon Common S.W.19 20/2[1959]
Dear Lord Russell
Many thanks for your letter of the 18th.
I am not sure whether you are in earnest or joking about a joint letter to The Times but, in either event, I think it is a good idea. Even were it not effective it would provide a little light amusement, and if you would care to write such a letter I would gladly add my signature below yours.
Incidentally, à propos this subject, you will find pages 61/2 or a dook of my reminiscences to be published on March 19 by Cassell & Co. under the tide of That Reminds Me of some interest. They contain details of two occasions on which I was mistaken for an Earl Russell. Your elder brother in India in 1927 and yourself in 1954.
Page 60 will also interest you.
Yours sincerely Russell of Liverpool
Plas Penrhyn 23 February 1959
Dear Lord Russell of Liverpool
Thank you for your letter of February 20. I was both serious and joking in my suggestion of a joint letter. I enclose a draft which I have signed, but I am entirely willing to alter the wording if you think it too frivolous. I think, however, that the present wording is more likely to secure attention than a more solemn statement.
Yours sincerely Russell
Plas Penrhyn 23 February, 1959
To the Editor of The Times
Sir
In order to discourage confusions which have been constantly occurring, we beg herewith to state that neither of us is the other.
Yours etc. Russell of Liverpool (Lord Russell of Liverpool)
Russell (Bertrand, Earl Russell)
Old Warren Farm Wimbledon Common S.W.19 25/2/59
Dear Lord Russell
I have forwarded our letter to The Times but I have asked them, of course, to put your name before mine.
I like the wording immensely.
Russell of Liverpool
To and from A. J. Ayer
Plas Penhryn 19 January, 1957
Dear Ayer
I have just finished reading your Problem of Knowledge. I have read the book with a great deal of pleasure and I agree with most of it. I like your way of dissecting problems; for example, what you say on such subjects as television and precognition seems to me to combine logic and sound sense in just proportion. The only point upon which I seriously disagree with you is as to perception. My view on this subject, although to scientific people it seems a mere collection of truisms, is rejected as a wild paradox by philosophers of all schools. You need not, therefore, be in any degree disquieted by not having my support. I will, however, make one point: on page 126 you say that from the fact that the perceived qualities of physical objects are causally dependent upon the state of the percipient, it does not follow that the object does not really have them. This, of course, is true. What does follow is that there is no reason to think that it has them. From the fact that when I wear blue spectacles, things look blue, it does not follow that they are not blue, but it does follow that I have no reason to suppose they are blue.
As I find that philosophers, as opposed to men of science, unanimously misunderstand my theory of perception, I am enclosing a note on the subject with no special reference to your book.
Yours very sincerely Russell
New College Oxford 26 May 1961
Dear Russell
I have just heard from Routledge that you have withdrawn permission for your preface to be included in the new translation of Wittgenstein's Tractatus. The reason why I come in to this is that I am editor of the series in which the book is to appear.
I assume that you are taking this step because of the difficulties which are being raised by Ogden's brother. I do not know what Ogden has told you; but I do hope that I can persuade you to reconsider your decision. The most important fact, as I see it, is that this new translation will supersede the old, so that if your preface is not included in it, it will practically cease to be available. I think this would be a great pity, as quite apart from the light it throws on Wittgenstein, it is a very interesting piece of work in itself.
The authors of the new translation, Messrs Pears and McCuinness, tell me that if there [are] any conditions which you now wish to make before allowing them to use your preface, they will do their very best to meet them.
I am very sorry to hear that you have been ill and hope that you are now recovered.
Yours sincerely Freddie Ayer
Pears and McGuinness say that they have made every effort to satisfy Ogden but have found him quite intractable.
Plas Penrhyn 27 May, 1961
Dear Ayer
Thank you for your letter of May 26. I have never succeeded in understanding the points at issue between Ogden's brother and your party. I have no objection in principle to the reprinting of my introduction to the Tractatus. I was influenced by the fact that Wittgenstein and all his followers hated my introduction and that Wittgenstein only consented to its inclusion because the publishers made it a condition of their publishing the Tractatus. I did not know, until I received your letter this morning, that there was anyone who thought that my introduction had any value. Since you think that it has, I am quite willing again to grant permission for its republication. Would you kindly communicate the substance of this letter to Routledge.
Yours sincerely Russell
New College Oxford 31 May 1961
Dear Russell
Thank you very much for allowing us to reprint your Introduction to the Tractatus. Wittgenstein always complained at being misrepresented by anybody who wrote about him, and his followers simply echo what he said. But I am sure that your Introduction is an important addition to the work and the new translators entirely share my view. They were indeed very upset when they thought they were not going to be allowed to reprint it. With regard to Ogden's brother I am in the same position as yourself: I still do not understand what the substance of his grievance is.
Yours sincerely Freddie Ayer
From and to Rudolf Carnap
Department of Philosophy University of California May 12, 1962
Dear Lord Russell
Throughout my life I have followed with the greatest interest not only your philosophical work but also, especially during the last years, your political activities, and I admire your courage and your intensity of energy and devotion. Now, on the occasion of your ninetieth birthday, I wish to send you a message of best wishes and of deep gratitude for all I owe to you. Your books had indeed a stronger influence on my philosophical thinking than those of any other philosopher. I say more about thus in my intellectual autobiography (in a forthcoming Schilppvolume on my philosophy), and especially also about the inspiring effect on me of your appeal for a new method in philosophy, on the last pages of your book Our knowledge of the external world.
I am in complete agreement with the aims for which you are fighting at present: serious negotiations instead of the cold war, no bomb-testing, no fallout shelters. But, not having your wonderful power of words, I limit myself to participation in public appeals and petitions initiated by others and to some private letters to President Kennedy on these matters. Even such letters are difficult for me. By nature I am inclined to turn away from the insane quarrels of parties and governments, and pursue my thinking in a purely theoretical field. But at present, when the survival of civilisation is at stake, I realise that it is necessary at least to take a stand. I also admired your forceful and convincing argumentation in the debate with Edward Teller which I saw on television. I find it depressing to see a prominent scientist (in contrast to politicians from whom one has come to expect nothing better) strengthening the prejudices of the listeners.
I am going to be 71 on the same day you are having your birthday. May you have many more active years ahead, in good health, and with the satisfaction of seeing a more rational world order coming into being, to whose development you have contributed so much. I am going to retire in a few weeks from teaching and to devote myself to the further development of my theory of inductive probability, on which I have begun to publish in 1950 and which has occupied me ever since.
With deep affection and gratitude,
Yours Rudolf Carnap
Plas Penrhyn 21st June 1962
Dear Professor Carnap
I am immensely grateful to you for your kind letter. It pleased me greatly. I had not realised that your birthday and mine fall on the same day. I am sorry not to have sent you my own good wishes, which are sincerely felt.
I believe that your efforts to bring clarity and precision to philosophy will have an everlasting effect on the thinking of men, and I am very happy to see that you will continue your work after your retirement. Nothing would be more fitting than that you should successfully realise your theory of inductive probability. I entirely understand your diffidence with respect to letters to public officials. It is difficult to employ a language which speaks of intense and sincere fears for our world to public men who receive our words with small awareness of that which promotes them. I must confess that I am deeply troubled. I fear that human beings are intent upon acting out a vast death wish and that it lies with us now to make every effort to promote resistance to the insanity and brutality of policies which encompass the extermination of hundreds of millions of human beings.
In this country we are having a much greater success than seems evident in the United States, although it is obvious that protest in the United States requires far greater courage and dedication than its equivalent here. Nonetheless; I am hopeful that the effect of our minority resistance may grow and find a co-ordinated international expression. We are holding a great demonstration at the Air Ministry in Whitehall involving civil disobedience this coming September 9th, and I shall be taking part in the physical demonstration itself. I believe that men are starved for an answer to the terror and that they will respond if their sense of helplessness can be overcome.
I am sincerely grateful to you for your kindness in writing and I wish you earnestly success in your great work.
With my good wishes and respect Bertrand Russell
From The Observer, May 13, 1962
Pros and Cons of Reaching Ninety
Bertrand Russell
There are both advantages and disadvantages in being very old. The disadvantages are obvious and uninteresting, and I shall say little about them. The advantages seem to me more interesting. A long retrospect gives weight and substance to experience. I have been able to follow many lives, both of friends and of public characters, from an early stage to their conclusion. Some, who were promising in youth, have achieved little of value; others have continued to develop from strength to strength through long lives of important achievement. Undoubtedly, experience makes it easier to guess to which of these two kinds a young person is likely to belong. It is not only the lives of individuals, but the lives of movements that come, with time, to form part of personal experience and to facilitate estimates of probable success or failure. Communism, in spite of a very difficult beginning, has hitherto continued to increase in power and influence. Nazism, on the contrary, by snatching too early and too ruthlessly at dominion, came to grief. To have watched such diverse processes helps to give an insight into the past of history and should help in guessing at the probable future.
To come to more personal matters; it is natural for those who are energetic and adventurous to feel in youth a very passionate and restless desire for some important achievement, without any clear prevision of what, with luck, it may be. In old age, one becomes more aware of what has, and what has not, been achieved. What one can further do becomes a smaller proportion of what has already been done, and this makes personal life less feverish.
It is a curious sensation to read the journalistic clichés which come to be fastened on past periods that one remembers, such as the 'naughty nineties' and the 'riotous twenties'. Those decades did not seem, at the time, at all 'naughty' or 'riotous'. The habit of affixing easy labels is convenient to those who wish to seem clever without having to think, but it has very little relation to reality. The world is always changing, but not in die simple ways that such convenient clichés suggest. Old age, as I am experiencing it, could be a time of very complete happiness if one could forget the state of the world. Privately, I enjoy everything that could make life delightful. I used to think that when I reached old age I would retire from the world and live a life of elegant culture, reading all the great books that I ought to have read at an earlier date. Perhaps it was, in any case, an idle dream. A long habit of work with some purpose that one believes important is difficult to break, and I might have found elegant leisure boring even if the world had been in a better state. However that might have been, I find it impossible to ignore what is happening.
Ever since 1914, at almost every crucial moment, the wrong thing has been done. We are told that the West is engaged in defending the 'Free World', but freedom such as existed before 1914 is now as dim a memory as crinolines. Supposedly wise men assured us in 1914 that we were fighting a war to end war, but it turned out to be a war to end peace. We were told that Prussian militarism was all that had to be put down; and, ever since, militarism has continually increased. Murderous humbug, such as would have shocked almost everyone when I was young, is now solemnly mouthed by eminent statesmen. My own country, led by men without imagination and without capacity for adaptation to the modern world, pursues a policy which, if not changed, will lead almost inevitably to the complete extermination of all the inhabitants of Britain. Like Cassandra, I am doomed to prophesy evil and not be believed. Her prophecies came true. I desperately hope that mine will not.
Sometimes one is tempted to take refuge in cheerful fantasies and to imagine that perhaps in Mars or Venus happier and saner forms of life exist, but our frantic skill is making this a vain dream. Before long, if we do not destroy ourselves, our destructive strife will have spread to those planets. Perhaps, for their sake, one ought to hope that war on earth will put an end to our species before its folly has become cosmic. But this is not a hope in which I can find any comfort.
The way in which the world has developed during the last fifty years has brought about in me changes opposite to those which are supposed to be typical of old age. One is frequently assured by men who have no doubt of their own wisdom that old age should bring serenity and a larger vision in which seeming evils are viewed as means to ultimate good. I cannot accept any such view. Serenity, in the present world, can only be achieved through blindness or brutality. Unlike what is conventionally expected, I become gradually more and more of a rebel. I was not born rebellious. Until 1914, I fitted more or less comfortably into the world as I found it. There were evils - great evils - but there was reason to think that they would grow less. Without having the temperament of a rebel, the course of events has made me gradually less and less able to acquiesce patiently in what is happening. A minority, though a growing one, feels as I do, and, so long as I live, it is with them that I must work.
From Mrs Roosevelt
55 East 74th Street New York City September 22, 1960
My Lord
I am most grateful to you for taking part with me in our television program on British defence policy in London. It was a lively and exciting discussion and I feel the result was satisfying.
Sincerely Eleanor Roosevelt
From and to Max Born
Haus Filser Freibergstrasse Obersdorf (Allgäu) Germany 12.7.51
Dear Professor Russell
Your book A History of Western Philosophy which I never had time to read at home has accompanied me on my holiday journey and given me so much pleasure that I take the liberty to write to you a few words of thanks.
I confess that before putting the book into my suitcase I asked a few of my philosophical friends in Scotland about it, and was warned not to read it as it would give me a distorted picture of the actual men and events. When I was, a few weeks ago, in Göttingen I discussed your book with one of the local philosophers and found a still stronger negative attitude, based mainly on your treatment of Plato and of the German idealistic school. This encouraged me greatly to read your book. For I have been tortured at school with Plato, and I have always thoroughly disliked German metaphysics, in particular Hegel. Thus I decided to read your last chapter first, and as I wholeheartedly agreed to your own philosophy, I started cheerfully with page i and continued reading with ever increasing fascination and pleasure until I reached your moderate, though decided refutations of some of the modern schools of 'subjectivistic madness'. I was myself once a pupil of Edmund Husserl but found his 'phenomenology' unsatisfactory and its modern version by Heidegger rather disgusting. I suppose you found it not worth while to mention it.
My son and his wife who are with us on this journey share my admiration for your work and have gone so far to call their new-born boy Max Russell combining thus my name with yours.
On my way out I stayed a week with Niels Bohr at Copenhagen and had some most interesting talks with him on the philosophical foundations of quantum theory.
Yours sincerely Max Born
Marcard str. 4 Bad Pyrmont 18 March, 1958
Dear Professor Russell
I have read Khrushchev's long declaration in the New Statesman. I find it just as depressing as the letter from Dulles published some weeks ago. The commentary by Kingsley Martin that these fellows are amazingly similar in their mental make-up is quite correct. One could just as well call them Khrushless and Dullchev, and, what they believe in, not an ideology, but an idiotology. I wonder whether you will write a summary containing your impressions of this exchange of opinions which you have originated.
Meanwhile we Eighteen' here are involved in the fight against rocket and nuclear armament of West-Germany. Von Weizsäecker is in Pugwash and will be back on April 17th when we meet again on the Rhine.
I have stirred up another ugly matter, concerning space travel, which is used by the military party to camouflage the expensive development of rocket missiles. All newspapers, the radio, the cinemas are full of this affair and I have a lively time. The great majority of the people are on our side but the Government (Adenauer, Strauss) are clever and use all means.
Yours sincerely M. Born
Plas Penrhyn 22 March, 1958
Dear Dr Born
Thank you very warmly for your letter of March 18 which expressed feelings exactly similar to mine as regards Khrushless and Dullchev and what you so aptly call their idiotology. I am sending my reflections on this matter to the New Statesman where they will be published shortly.
I wish you all success in your campaign about space travel.
Yours sincerely Bertrand Russell
Plas Penrhyn 25 November, 1961
Dear Max Born
Before it is too late for any of us to say anything, I wish to tell you that I feel for you a profound admiration, not only for your intellect which I have respected for forty years, but for your character of which my knowledge is more recent. I have found in you a kind of generosity and a kind of freedom from self-assertion which is very rare even among those whom, on the whole, I admire. You appear to me a man possessed of nobility - unfortunately a rare quality.
Forgive me for writing so openly, but what I have said is said in profound sincerity.
Yours very sincerely Bertrand Russell
The following statement launched the Committee of 100 in the autumn of 1960
Act or Perish
A call to non-violent action
Earl Russell
Michael Scott
We are appealing for support for a movement of non-violent resistance to nuclear war and weapons of mass extermination. Our appeal is made from a common consciousness of the appalling peril to which Governments of East and West are exposing the human race.
Disaster Almost Certain
Every day, and at every moment of every day, a trivial accident, a failure to distinguish a meteor from a bomber, a fit of temporary insanity in one single man, may cause a nuclear world war, which, in all likelihood, will put an end to man and to all higher forms of animal life. The populations of the Eastern and Western blocs are, in the great majority, unaware of the magnitude of the peril. Almost all experts who have studied the situation without being in the employment of some Government have come to the conclusion that, if present policies continue, disaster is almost certain within a fairly short time.
Public Misled
It is difficult to make the facts known to ordinary men and women, because Governments do not wish them known and powerful forces are opposed to dissemination of knowledge which might cause dissatisfaction with Government policies. Although it is possible to ascertain the probabilities by patient and careful study, statements entirely destitute of scientific validity are put out authoritatively with a view to misleading those who have not time for careful study. What is officially said about civil defence, both here and in America, is grossly misleading. The danger from fall-out is much greater than the Authorities wish the population to believe. Above all, the imminence of all-out nuclear war is ignorantly, or mendaciously, underestimated both in the statements of politicians and in the vast majority of newspapers. It is difficult to resist the conclusion that most of the makers of opinion consider it more important to secure defeat of the 'enemy' than to safeguard the continued existence of our species. The fact that the defeat of the 'enemy' must involve our own defeat, is carefully kept from the consciousness of those who give only a fleeting and occasional attention to political matters.
Action Imperative
Much has already been accomplished towards creating a public opinion opposed to nuclear weapons, but not enough, so far, to influence Governments. The threatening disaster is so enormous that we feel compelled to take every action that is possible with a view to awakening our compatriots, and ultimately all mankind, to the need of urgent and drastic changes of policy. We should wish every parent of young children, and every person capable of feelings of mercy, to feel it the most important part of their duty to secure for those who are still young a normal span of life, and to understand that Governments, at present, are making this very unlikely. To us, the vast scheme of mass murder which is being hatched - nominally for our protection, but in fact for universal extermination - is a horror and an abomination. What we can do to prevent this horror, we feel to be a profound and imperative duty which must remain paramount while the danger persists.
CONSTITUTIONAL ACTION NOT ENOUGH
We are told to wait for the beneficent activities of Congresses, Committees, and Summit meetings. Bitter experience has persuaded us that to follow such advice would be utterly futile while the Great Powers remain stubbornly determined to prevent agreement. Against the major forces that normally determine opinion, it is difficult to achieve more than a limited success by ordinary constitutional methods. We are told that in a democracy only lawful methods of persuasion should be used. Unfortunately, the opposition to sanity and mercy on the part of those who have power is such as to make persuasion by ordinary methods difficult and slow, with the result that, if such methods alone are employed, we shall probably all be dead before our purpose can be achieved. Respect for law is important and only a very profound conviction can justify actions which flout the law. It is generally admitted that, in the past, many such actions have been justified. Christian Martyrs broke the law, and there can be no doubt that majority opinion at the time condemned them for doing so. We, in our day, are asked to acquiesce, passively if not actively, in policies clearly leading to tyrannical brutalities compared with which all former horrors sink into insignificance. We cannot do this any more than Christian Martyrs could acquiesce in worship of the Emperor. Their steadfastness in the end achieved victory. It is for us to show equal steadfastness and willingness to suffer hardship and thereby to persuade the world that our cause is worthy of such devotion.
TOWARDS WORLD PEACE
We hope, and we believe, that those who feel as we do and those who may come to share our belief can form a body of such irresistible persuasive force that the present madness of East and West may give way to a new hope, a new realisation of the common destinies of the human family and a determination that men shall no longer seek elaborate and devilish ways of injuring each other but shall, instead, unite in permitting happiness and co-operation. Our immediate purpose, in so far as it is political, is only to persuade Britain to abandon reliance upon the illusory protection of nuclear weapons. But, if this can be achieved, a wider horizon will open before our eyes. We shall become aware of the immense possibilities of nature when harnessed by the creative intelligence of man to the purposes and arts of peace. We shall continue, while life permits, to pursue the goal of world peace and universal human fellowship. We appeal, as human beings to human beings: remember your humanity, and forget the rest. If you can do so, the way lies open to a new Paradise; if you cannot, nothing lies before you but universal death.
The following is the text of my leaflet 'On Civil Disobedience'
Russell on Civil Disobedience
On April 15th, 1961, Earl Russell addressed the first Annual Conference of the Midlands Region Youth Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament, in Birmingham.
In putting the case for Civil Disobedience, Earl Russell makes a balanced appeal for nuclear disarmament in the interests of humanity, and his words will be of interest to all who support the Campaign and to those whose minds are open to rational persuasion.
Friends
My main purpose this afternoon is to set out the case for non-violent civil disobedience as one of the methods to be employed in combating the nuclear peril. Many people believe that this method is not likely to achieve its purpose, and some have moral objections to it on principle. Most of them will admit that non-violent civil disobedience is justified when the law demands the individual concerned to do something which he considers wicked. This is the case of conscientious objectors. But our case is a somewhat different one. We advocate and practise non-violent civil disobedience as a method of causing people to know the perils to which the world is exposed and in persuading them to join us in opposing the insanity which affects, at present, many of the most powerful Governments in the world. I will concede that civil disobedience as a method of propaganda is difficult to justify except in extreme cases, but I cannot imagine any issue more extreme or more overwhelmingly important than that of the prevention of nuclear war. Consider one simple fact: if the present policies of many great powers are not radically changed, it is in the highest degree improbable that any of you here present will be alive ten years hence. And that is not because your peril is exceptional. It is a universal peril.
'But', objectors will say, 'why cannot you be content with the ordinary methods of political propaganda?' The main reason why we cannot be content with these methods alone is that, so long as only constitutional methods were employed, it was very difficult - and often impossible - to cause the most important facts to be known. All the great newspapers are against us. Television and radio gave us only grudging and brief opportunities for stating our case. Politicians who opposed us were reported in full, while those who supported us were dubbed 'hysterical' or were said to be actuated by personal hostility to this or that politician. It was very largely the difficulty of making our case known that drove some of us to the adoption of illegal methods. Our illegal actions, because they had sensational news value, were reported, and here and there, a newspaper would allow us to say why we did what we did.
It was a most noteworthy fact that not only was our demonstration of February 18th very widely reported in every part of the world but, as an immediate consequence, all sorts of newspapers - both here and abroad - demanded and printed statements of our case which, until then, they would have rejected. I think also that the spectacle, even in photographs, of so very many serious people, not looking like freaks as newspapers had said we did, caused a widespread belief that our movement could not be dismissed as an outbreak of hysterical emotionalism.
Both popular and official ignorance of the main facts concerned has begun to grow less, and we hope that, in time some members of the Government, and perhaps one or two great newspapers may acquire some knowledge as to the terrible problems about which they lightheartedly dogmatise.
Some of our critics who oppose non-violent civil disobedience on principle say that we rely upon bullying and not upon persuasion. Alas, we are very far removed from being strong enough to bully anybody; and, if we ever were strong enough, present methods would have become unnecessary. I will take as typical of the arguments of our opponents a letter in The Guardian of March 29th from the Bishop of Willesden. You may think it rash to oppose a Bishop on a moral issue, but - greatly daring - I will attempt the task. The Bishop says that our demonstrations are intended to force our views upon the community, rather than merely to assert them. He has not, himself, experienced, as we have, the difficulty of asserting anything loud enough to be beard when all the major organs of publicity are combined in an attempt to prevent our case from being known. Non-violent civil disobedience, according to the Bishop, is a use of force by a minority to compel the majority to submit. This seems to me one of the most far-fetched and absurd arguments that I have ever heard. How can a minority of unarmed people, pledged to non-violence, impose their will against all the forces of the Establishment backed by public apathy? The Bishop goes on to say that such methods can lead to anarchy or dictatorship. There have, it is true, been many instances of minorities acquiring dictatorship. The Communists in Russia and the Nazis in Germany are outstanding examples. But their methods were not non-violent. Our methods, which are non-violent, can only succeed by persuasion.
There are two arguments which are often employed against nonviolent civil disobedience. One is that it alienates people who might otherwise be supporters, and the other is that it causes dissension within the anti-nuclear movement. I will say a few words about each of these. I have no wish whatever to see non-violent civil disobedience adopted by all opponents of nuclear weapons. I think it is well that organisations both practising and abstaining from non-violent civil disobedience should exist to suit different temperaments. I do not believe that the existence of an organisation practising non-violent civil disobedience prevents anybody from joining an organisation which does not. Some may say that they are deterred by distaste for fanatical extremists, but I think these are all people who would in any case find something to deter them. I think, on the contrary, that our movement has a vigour and magnetism which attracts large numbers who might otherwise remain indifferent.
As for dissensions, they, I agree, are regrettable, but they are totally unnecessary. There is no reason why societies practising different techniques should not exist side by side without finding fault with each other. I think this has come to be recognised. I have, for my part, a very great admiration for what the CND has done and I hope its work will continue to prosper. But I think the work of those who believe in nonviolent civil disobedience is at least equally valuable, especially while to the newspapers it has the attraction of novelty.
Many people say that, while civil disobedience may be justified where there is not democracy, it cannot possibly be right where everybody has a share of political power. This sort of argument is one which is wilfully blind to very obvious facts. In practically every so-called democratic country there are movements similar to ours. There are vigorous movements in the United States. In Canada they are not far from acquiring power. Naturally the movement in Japan is very powerful and very convinced. Moreover, take the problem of people under 21. If the Governments have their way, these people will all be slaughtered without having any legal means of giving weight to their wish to survive. Consider, again, the way in which opinion is manufactured in a nominally democratic country. Great newspapers belong to rich and powerful people. Television and radio have strong reasons for not offending the Government. Most experts would lose their position and their income if they spoke the truth.
For these reasons the forces that control opinion are heavily weighted upon the side of the rich and powerful. Those who are neither rich nor powerful can find no ways of counter-balancing this over-weight except such as the Establishment can decry with the support of all who profit by the status quo. There is in every great modern State, a vast mechanism intended to prevent the truth from being known, not only to the public, but also to the Governments. Every Government is advised by experts and inevitably prefers the experts who flatter its prejudices. The ignorance of important public men on the subject of nuclear warfare is utterly astounding to those who have made an impartial study of the subject. And from public men this ignorance trickles down to become the voice of the people. It is against this massive artificial ignorance that our protests are directed. I will give a few instances of this astonishing ignorance:
The Daily Mail in a report on civil defence stated that fall-out decays rapidly once it is down on the ground and that, therefore, people who had taken refuge in shelters would not have to stay there very long. As a matter of fact, to take only two of the most dangerous ingredients of fall-out - Strontium 90 has a half life of 28 years and Carbon 14 has a half life of 5,600 years. These facts make it seem as if people would have tc stay in the shelters as long as from the building of the Pyramids to the present day.
To take a more important example, the Prime Minister recently stated without any qualification that 'there will be no war by accident'. I have not come across one non-Government expert who has studied this subject who does not say the opposite. C. P. Snow, who has an exceptional right to speak with authority, said in a recent article 'Within at the most ten years, some of these bombs are going off. I am saying this as responsibly as I can. That is a certainty.' John B. Witchell, an engineer, who resigned his position as a member of Canada's Atomic Research Board in protest against the Government's nuclear armament policies, stated in a recent speech: 'The demand for instantaneous retaliation leads to a hair-trigger situation which renders nuclear war a statistical certainty.' He went on to say that those whom he calls 'the official liars' will say that mistakes will be impossible. He replied to them: 'Let me say emphatically, positively, there can be no safeguard which can be considered adequate.'
I could give many other quotations expressing the same view, and none expressing the opposite view except from Government employees. Mr Macmillan should know these facts, but evidently does not.
I will give another example of the Prime Minister's cheerful ignorance: speaking in Ottawa quite recently he alluded to the signs of neutralism in Britain and told the Canadians not to be worried by them. He said, 'If ever the call comes to them, the young will go straight from the ranks of the neutralists into the ranks of Her Majesty's Forces, as they have so often done in the past'. They will have to be rather quick about it, as his own Government has told us that they will only have four minutes' notice. At the end of the four minutes they will be dead, whether in Her Majesty's Forces or still among the neutralists. The ancient rhetorical language associated with war is so ingrained that Mr Macmillan is quite unable to realise its complete remoteness from modern military facts.
It is not only that the organs of publicity are slow to publish facts which militate against official policy. It is also that such facts are unpleasant and, therefore, most people soon forget them. What proportion of the inhabitants of Britain know the official report by the us Defence Minister of probable casualties in a nuclear war with present armament? His official guess was 160 million in the us, 200 million in the USSR and everybody in Britain and Western Europe. He did not regard this as a reason for changing American policy. When one combines this estimate with the near certainty of a nuclear war if present policies continue, it is obviously not unjust to say that the Government of Britain is favouring a course which, if persisted in, will lead to the death of every one of us. It may seem odd that a majority of the British public supports the policy leading to this dreadful disaster. I do not think that British voters would continue to do so if the facts were brought to their notice so emphatically that they could no longer forget them. This is part of our purpose and part of what makes spectacular action necessary.
Most people in Britain are not aware of the attitude taken by armament experts in America to the British alliance and to the British desire to be a nuclear Power. The most learned and detailed account of American policy in these matters is Herman Kahn's big book On Thermonuclear War.
He is remarkably cold-blooded and makes careful arithmetical estimates of probable casualties. He believes that both America and Russia could more or less survive a nuclear war and achieve economic recovery in no very long time. Apparently - though on this he is vague - they are both to set to work at once on preparations for another nuclear war, and this sort of thing is to go on until not enough people are left alive for it to be possible to make a bomb. All this has shocked liberal-minded Americans who have criticised Mr Kahn with great severity, not realising, apparently, that he is only expounding official American policy.
There is, however, another aspect of his discussions which is of special interest to Britain. He holds that Britain as an ally adds nothing to the strength of America. He argues at length that, if Russia were to attack Britain without attacking the United States, the United States would not intervene in spite of obligations under NATO. He shows no objection to British neutrality, and explicitly regrets the lack of success for the suggestion that Britain should form a non-nuclear club of which it should be a member. Britons who are orthodox in armament policy do not seem to be aware of this American opinion. It hurts their national pride since it considers British military power negligible and the protection of Britain during war totally impossible. British opponents of British neutralism all argue vehemently that the West would be weakened if Britain became neutral. But, apparently, this is not the opinion of orthodox American armament experts.
It is not only unpleasant facts that the public ignores: it is also some facts which ought to be found pleasant. Khrushchev has repeatedly offered complete disarmament by agreement combined with any degree of inspection that the West may desire. The West shrugs its shoulders and says 'of course, he is not sincere'. This, however, is not the argument that really weighs with Western Governments. Khrushchev proclaims his hope that Communists will conquer the world by peaceful propaganda. Western Governments fear that they cannot produce equally effective counter-propaganda. As Dulles said, in an unguarded moment, 'We are losing this cold war, but we might win a hot one'. He did not explain what he meant by 'winning', but I suppose he meant that, at the end, there might be 6 Americans and only 4 Russians.
Doubts as to sincerity have at least as much justification if entertained by the Russians towards us as they have if entertained by us towards the Russians. The British Commonwealth has lately voted unanimously for universal and complete disarmament. Since in this matter there is complete agreement with Khrushchev, while America is adverse, it might have been thought that the vote of the British Commonwealth, including Britain, would lead to a rapprochement with the Soviet Government. Instead of this, however, Kennedy and Macmillan have recently been tightening up the alliance and proposing agreements which would make British disarmament totally impossible. We cannot therefore take the British vote in the Commonwealth as indicating the sincere wishes of the British Government.
I think that while we are engaged in campaigning for British unilateralism, it is important to bear in mind the more distant objectives which give international meaning to our efforts. Let us consider for a moment what international aims must form part of any attempt to put an end to nuclear war.
The first thing to realise is that, if there are not to be nuclear wars, there must not be wars, because any war is sure to become nuclear no matter what treaties to the contrary may have been concluded. And if there is not to be war, there must be machinery for settling disputes by negotiation. This will require an international authority which shall arbitrate disputes and be sufficiently powerful to compel obedience to its awards. None of this can possibly come about while relations between East and West are as strained as they are now, and while weapons of mass extermination keep the whole world in a state of nuclear terror. Before anything that seriously diminishes the risk of nuclear war can be achieved, there will have to be a treaty between America and Russia and China, and an agreement to ban - not only nuclear weapons - but also chemical and biological weapons. All this may seem beyond the power of Britain to help or hinder. I do not think that it is. Negotiations between East and West ever since 1945 have been abortive because only the two contesting blocs were represented in the negotiations, and each of them, from motives of prestige, felt unable to make the slightest concession to the other. If there is ever to be a detente between Russia and America, it will have to be brought about by the friendly mediation of neutrals. Britain, if neutral, could play an important part in this beneficent work, whereas Britain can do nothing in this direction while remaining a member of NATO.
These, as yet somewhat distant, vistas should, I think, be in oar minds while we are engaged in what might seem an exclusively national campaign. We have to remember that weapons of mass extermination, once invented, remain a potential threat even if none are actually in being. For this reason, we have to remember, further, that, unless war is completely eliminated, the human race is doomed. To put an end to war, which has dominated human life for 6,000 years, is no easy task. It is a heroic task, a task worthy of all the energies and all the thought of every sane man throughout the world. I think this larger vista may help in difficult times to prevent discouragement and disillusion. I think that our campaign is the best thing that Britons not in Government posts can do, though it is only a small part of what the world needs.
Extempore comment added by Lord Russell to the foregoing speech
And I would like to say in conclusion that what I suppose most of us fed most strongly and what makes us willing to make sacrifices for the cause is the extraordinary wickedness of these weapons of mass destruction. We used to think that Hitler was wicked when he wanted to kill all the Jews, but Kennedy and Macmillan and others both in the East and in the West pursue policies which will probably lead to killing not only all the Jews but all the rest of us too. They are much more wicked than Hitler and this idea of weapons of mass extermination is utterly and absolutely horrible and it is a thing which no man with one spark of humanity can tolerate and I will not pretend to obey a government which is organising the massacre of the whole of mankind. I will do anything I can to oppose such Governments in any non-violent way that seems likely to be fruitful, and I should exhort all of you to feel the same way. We cannot obey these murderers. They are wicked and abominable. They are the wickedest people that ever lived in the history of man and it is our duty to do what we can.
[The last phrase of these extempore observations - 'They are the wickedest people that ever lived' - was taken up by the Press and published throughout Britain and the world, usually without the preceding extempore remarks and with no indication that they had been preceded by a carefully built up speech giving the documentation necessary to support such a conclusion.]
My Statement at Bow Street, September 12, 1961
If the Court permits, I should like to make a short statement as to the reasons for my present course. This is my personal statement, but I hope that those who are accused of the same so-called crime will be in sympathy with what I have to say.
It was only step by step and with great reluctance that we were driven to non-violent civil disobedience.
Ever since the bomb was dropped on Hiroshima on August 6th, 1945, I have been profoundly troubled by the danger of nuclear warfare. I began my attempt to warn people by entirely orthodox methods, I expressed my fears in a speech in the House of Lords three months after the bombs were dropped in Japan. I called together scientists of the highest eminence from all parts of the world and am now Chairman of their periodic meetings. They issue wise and reasoned reports concerning nuclear warfare, its probable disastrous results, and ways of preventing its occurrence. No newspaper notices these reports and they have no effect either on Governments or on public opinion. The popular Press minimises and ridicules the effort of those working against nuclear warfare, and television, with rare exceptions, is closed to us. In recent months one television company, and only one, offered me two minutes for general platitudes, but when I said I should wish to speak on Berlin the offer was withdrawn.
It has seemed to some of us that, in a country supposed to be a democracy, the public should know the probable consequences of present Great-Power policies in East and West. Patriotism and humanity alike urged us to seek some way of saving our country and the world. No one can desire the slaughter of our families, friends, our compatriots and a majority of the human race in a contest in which there will be only vanquished and no victors. We feel it a profound and inescapable duty to make the facts known and thereby save at least a thousand million human lives. We cannot escape this duty by submitting to orders which, we are convinced, would not be issued if the likelihood and the horror of nuclear war were more generally understood.
Non-violent civil disobedience was forced upon us by the fact that it was more fully reported than other methods of making die facts known, and that caused people to ask what had induced us to adopt such a course of action. We who are here accused are prepared to suffer Imprisonment because we believe that this is the most effective way of working for the salvation of our country and the world. If you condemn us you will be helping our cause, and therefore humanity.
While life remains to us we will not cease to do what lies in our power to avert the greatest calamity that has ever threatened mankind.
The text of a leaflet issued while I was in Brixton Prison
A Message from Bertrand Russell
To all, in whatever country who are still capable of sane thinking or human feeling:
Friends
Along with valued colleagues I am to be silenced for a time - perhaps for ever, for who can tell how soon the great massacre will take place?
The populations of East and West, misled by stubborn governments in search of prestige and by corrupt official experts bent on retaining their posts, tamely acquiesce in policies which are almost certain to end in nuclear war.
There are supposed to be two sides, each professing to stand for a great cause. This is a delusion - Kennedy and Khrushchev, Adenauer and de Gaulle, Macmillan and Gaitskell, are pursuing a common aim: the ending of human life.
You, your families, your friends and your countries are to be exterminated by the common decision of a few brutal but powerful men. To please these men, all the private affections, all the public hopes, all that has been achieved in art, and knowledge and thought and all that might be achieved hereafter is to be wiped out forever.
Our ruined lifeless planet will continue for countless ages to circle aimlessly round the sun unredeemed by the joys and loves, the occasional wisdom and the power to create beauty which have given value to human life.
It is for seeking to prevent this that we are in prison.
Bertram Russell
From Augustus John
Fryern Court, Fordingbridge, Hants. [postmarked 15 Feb. 1961]
Dear Lord Russell
Your message was brought to me while I was working in the studio (not the one you knew but one further off) by the gardener. I told him how to reply, which he said he understood but I don't know if he did so correctly. All I wanted to say was that I believed in the object of the demonstration and would like to go to prison if necessary. I didn't want to parade my physical disabilities though I still have to follow the Instructions of my doctor, who I think saved my life when I was in danger of coronary thrombosis. A very distinguished medical authority who was consulted, took a very pessimistic view of my case, but my local doctor, undeterred, continued his treatment and I feel sure, saved my life.
All this I meant privately & am sure you understood, even if the gardener garbled it when telephoning. I wish the greatest success for the demonstration on the 18th although I can only be with you in spirit.
Yours sincerely Augustus John
P.S. This requires no answer.
My speech in Trafalgar Square, October 29, 1961
Friends
During the last decades there have been many people who have been loud In condemnation of the Germans for having permitted the growth of Nazi evil and atrocities in their country. 'How,' these people ask, 'could the Germans allow themselves to remain unaware of the evil? Why did they not risk their comfort, their livelihood, even their lives to combat it?'
Now a more all-embracing danger threatens us all - the danger of nuclear war. I am very proud that there is in this country a rapidly growing company of people who refuse to remain unaware of the danger, or ignorant of the facts concerning the policies that enable, and force, us to live in such danger. I am even prouder to be associated with those many among them who, at whatever risk of discomfort and often of very real hardship, are willing to take drastic action to uphold their belief. They have laid themselves open to the charges of being silly, being exhibitionist, being law-breakers, being traitors. They have suffered ostracism and imprisonment, sometimes repeatedly, in order to call attention to the facts that they have made the effort to learn. It is a great happiness to me to welcome so many of them here - I wish that I could say all of them, but some are still in prison. We none of us, however, can be entirely happy until our immediate aim has been achieved and the threat of nuclear war has become a thing of the past, Then such actions as we have taken and shall take will no longer be Decessary.
We all wish that there shall be no nuclear war, but I do not think that the country realises, or even that many of us here present realise, the very considerable likelihood of a nuclear war within the next few months. We are all aware of Khrushchev's resumption of tests and of his threat to explode a 50 megaton bomb.
we all deplore these provocative acts. But I think we are less aware of the rapidly growing feeling in America in favour of a nuclear war in the very near future. In America, the actions of Congress are very largely determined by lobbies representing this or that interest. The armament lobby, which represents both the economic interests of armament firms and the warlike ardour of generals and admirals, is exceedingly powerful, and it is very doubtful whether the President will be able to stand out against the pressure which it is exerting. Its aims are set forth in a quite recent policy statement by the Air Force Association, which is the most terrifying document that I have ever read. It begins by stating that preservation of the status quo is not adequate as a national goal. I quote: 'Freedom must bury Communism or be buried by Communism. Complete eradication of the Soviet system must be our national goal, our obligation to all free people, our promise of hope to all who are not free.' It is a curious hope that is being promised, since it can only be realised in heaven, for the only •promise' that the West can hope to fulfil is the promise to turn Eastern populations into corpses. The noble patriots who make this pronouncement omit to mention that Western populations also will be exterminated.
'We are determined', they say, 'to back our words with action even at the risk of war. We seek not merely to preserve our freedoms, but to extend them.' The word 'freedom', which is a favourite word of Western warmongers, has to be understood in a somewhat peculiar sense. It means freedom for warmongers and prison for those who oppose them. A freedom scarcely distinguishable from this exists in Soviet Russia. The document that I am discussing says that we should employ bombs against Soviet aggression, even if the aggression is nonnuclear and even if it consists only of infiltration. We must have, it says, 'ability to fight, win, and purposefully survive a general nuclear war'. This aim is, of course, impossible to realise, but, by using their peculiar brand of 'freedom' to cause belief in lies, they hope to persuade a deliberately uninformed public opinion to join in their race towards death. They are careful to promise us that H-bombs will not be the worst things they have to offer. 'Nuclear weapons', they say, 'are not the end of military development. There is no reason to believe that nuclear weapons, no matter how much they may increase in number and ferocity, mark the end of the line in military systems' development.' They explain their meaning by saying, 'We must utilise us space technology as a prime factor in the international power equation'. They lead up to a noble peroration: 'Soviet aims are both evil and implacable. The people (i.e. the American people) are willing to work toward, and fight for if necessary, the elimination of Communism from the world scene. Let the issue be joined.'
This ferocious document, which amounts to a sentence of death on the human race, does not consist of the idle vapourings of acknowledged cranks. On the contrary, it represents the enormous economic power of the armament industry, which is re-enforced in the public mind by the cleverly instilled fear that disarmament would bring a new depression. This fear has been instilled in spite of the fact that Americans have been assured in the Wall Street Journal that a new depression would not be brought about, that the conversion from armaments to manufactures for peace could be made with little dislocation. Reputable economists in other countries support this Wall Street view. But the armament firms exploit patriotism and anti-communism as means of transferring the taxpayers' money into their own pockets. Ruthlessly, and probably consciously, they are leading the world towards disaster.
Two days ago The Times published an article by its correspondent in Washington which began: 'The United States has decided that any attempt by East Germany to close the Friedrichstrasse crossing between West and East Berlin will be met by force.'
These facts about both America and Russia strengthen my belief that the aims that I have been advocating for some years, and upon which some of us are agreed, are right. I believe that Britain should become neutral, leaving NATO - to which, in any case, she adds only negligible strength. I believe this partly because I believe that Britain would be safer as a neutral, and without a bomb of her own or the illusory 'protection' of the American bomb, and without bases for foreign troops; and, perhaps more important, I believe it because, if Britain were neutral, she could do more to help to achieve peace in the world than she can do now. I do not believe that either America or Russia should disarm unilaterally, because whichever did not do so first would automatically become ruler of the world. I believe that they should disarm as a result of negotiations and agreement to do so. In order to achieve this agreement, I think that Britain might have a very important role to play, for I believe that it can only be brought about if the neutrals form a sort of balancing committee to put forward and argue possible compromises. Then Britain could profitably add her political experience to this committee. In the present state of affairs she can do nothing to forward governmental movement towards peace. I should like to think that the example of Britain unilaterally disarming and, untramelled, taking up the cudgels for peace would persuade some other countries to disarm unilaterally. Then we should be able to throw a heavy weight towards persuading America and Russia to disarm multilaterally.
I have heard the criticism that we uphold only negative aims. I should like to point out that the policy just outlined is quite positive. All our aims, the most immediate and the most distant, are positive whether they happen to be stated in negative terms or not.
But to return
The British Government is less ruthless than the American, but shrinks from open opposition to American Jingoism. It is our hope that, before it is too late, we may overcome this shrinking timidity. Our methods must be dominated by the knowledge that the time is short. We are censured as disobeying orders by the very men who, in the Nuremberg Trials, punished the Germans for not disobeying orders. There are Committees of 100 starting up in various parts of this country. But not only here. Since September 17th, the support given us from all parts of the world from individuals, by already established movements having similar aims, even by newly established Committees of 100 in other countries, has been astounding. All these people throughout the world must be encouraged. We must build up - and we must do it quickly - a great world-wide mass movement of people demanding the abandonment of nuclear weapons, the abandonment of war as a means of settling disputes. Although the time may be short, our movement is gaining strength day by day. I repeat, and shall go on repeating:
We can win, and we must.
Note to above speech:
[After Khrushchev's abandonment of violence in the Cuba crisis, the danger of war became less immediate, and Russian policy became somewhat milder.]
Suggestions for U Thant
Re: Balancing Committee
The Assembly should empower the Secretary General to appoint a small committee consisting entirely of members of uncommitted nations which should be charged with the task of investigating matters in debate between East and West as they arise, with a view to suggesting compromise solutions which both sides could accept without loss of face. These solutions should be such as to give no net advantage to either side since if they favoured one side, the other would not accept them. They should also be such as to diminish friction at danger points such as Berlin.
This 'Balancing Committee' should publish the suggestions on whatever problems it investigated and seek to rally to the support of these suggestions first neutral opinion and then, if possible, the opinion of Eastern and Western negotiators. The members of the 'Balancing Committee' should command public respect in their several countries but should not be responsible to the national governments of the states from which they come.
The Committee should be small, since, otherwise, it will not reach decisions until they are out of date. It may be hoped that in time the suggestions of the 'Balancing Committee' would acquire moral authority and be difficult for either side to resist.
Statement re: Cuba Crisis
|
YOU ARE TO DIE |
Not in the course of nature, but within a few weeks, and not you alone, but your family, your friends, and all the inhabitants of Britain, together with many hundreds of millions of innocent people elsewhere. |
|
WHY? |
Because rich Americans dislike the Government that Cubans prefer, and have used part of their wealth to spread lies about it. |
|
WHAT CAN YOU DO? |
You can go out into the streets and into the market place, proclaiming: 'Do not yield to ferocious and insane murderers. Do not imagine that it is your duty to die when your Prime Minister and the President of the United States tell you to do so. Remember rather your duty to your family, your friends, your country, the world you live in, and that future world which, if you so choose, may be glorious, happy, and free.' |
|
AND REMEMBER: |
CONFORMITY MEANS DEATH ONLY PROTEST GIVES A HOPE OF LIFE |
BERTRAND RUSSELL 23rd October, 1962
The two following letters concerned with the Sino-Indian Border dispute were not published in Unarmed Victory. I therefore publish them here.
Peking, November 24, 1962
The Earl Russell London
My dear Lord
I have received with honour your letters dated November 16 and 19, 1962 and read with great pleasure your statement welcoming and supporting the Chinese Government's statement of November 21. I am deeply moved by your good wishes and efforts for a peaceful settlement of the Sino-Indian boundary question and your deep interest in world peace. I am sincerely grateful to you for the profound friendship for the Chinese people and the condemnation of us occupation of China's territory Taiwan, which you have expressed in your letters.
The Chinese Government issued a statement on October 24, 1962, putting forward three proposals. Unfortunately, they were repeatedly rejected by the Indian Government. In order to reverse the daily aggravating Sino-Indian border situation due to the Indian Government's refusal to enter into negotiations and its continued expansion of the armed border conflict, and in order to demonstrate its great sincerity for stopping the border conflict and settling the Sino-Indian Boundary question peacefully, the Chinese Government issued a statement on November 21, 1962, declaring three measures including the unilateral observation of cease-fire and withdrawal along the entire border by China on its own initiative. Now, I wish to tell you that as from 00:00 hours on November 22 the Chinese frontier guards have ceased fire along the entire Sino-Indian border. I believe that this accords with the desires you expressed in your messages.
You suggested in your letter of November 19: 'All troops to vacate this particular area - that which India has occupied since 1959 and until September 8, 1962, and felt by China to be her own.' I believe you have noted that the Chinese Government has declared in its statement of November 21 that, beginning from December I, the Chinese frontier guards would withdraw to positions 20 kilometres behind the line of actual control which existed between China and India on November 7, 1959, and would then be far behind their positions prior to September 8, 1962, The Chinese Government hopes that the Indian Government will respond positively to the Chinese Government's November 21 statement and adopt corresponding measures. Once the Indian Government has done so, the Sino-Indian Border will become tranquil and a demilitarised zone 40 kilometres wide can be established between China and India. It goes without saying that administration will continue to be exercised by the administrative authorities of each side existing in the zone on their own side of the line of actual control between China and India.
The Chinese Government hopes that the Indian Government will be willing to change its past attitude and sincerely settle the Sino-Indian Boundary question through friendly negotiations. I hope that you will continue to use your distinguished influence to urge the Indian Government to respond positively to the Chinese Government's November 21 statement and adopt corresponding measures. At the same time, the Chinese Government also hopes that all friendly countries and peace-loving public figures will exert their influence to urge the Indian Government to return to the conference table. These efforts will be great contributions to peace.
Please accept my high regards.
Chou En-Lai
Prime Minister's House New Dehli December 4, 1962
CONFIDENTIAL No. 2155-PMH/62 The Earl Russell Plas Penrhyn, Penrhyndeudraeth Merioneth, England
Dear Lord Russell
I must ask for your forgiveness for the delay in answering your letter of the 23rd November and your telegram which came subsequently. You can certainly write to me whenever you so wish, and I shall always welcome your views and advice.
I have given much thought to what you have written. I need not tell you that I am much moved by your passion for peace and it finds an echo in my own heart. Certainly we do not want this frontier war with China to continue, and even more certainly we do not want it to spread and involve the nuclear powers. Also there is the danger of the military mentality spreading in India and the power of the Army increasing.
But there are limits in a democratic society to what a Government can do. There is such strong feeling in India over the invasion by China that no Government can stand if it does not pay some heed to it. The Communist Party of India has been compelled by circumstances to issue a strong condemnation of China. Even so, the Communists here are in a bad way, and their organisation is gradually disappearing because of popular resentment.
Apart from this, there are various other important considerations which have to be borne in mind in coming to a decision. If there is a sense of national surrender and humiliation, this will have a very bad effect on the people of India and all our efforts to build up the nation will suffer a very serious setback. At present the popular upsurge all over India can be utilised for strengthening the unity and capacity for work of the nation, apart from the military aspect. There are obvious dangers about militarism and extreme forms of nationalism developing, but there are also possibilities of the people of our country thinking in a more constructive way and profiting by the dangers that threaten us.
If we go wholly against the popular sentiment, which to a large extent I share, then the result will be just what you fear. Others will take charge and drive the country towards disaster.
The Chinese proposals, as they are, mean their gaining a dominating position, specially in Ladakh, which they can utilise in future for a further attack on India. The present day China, as you know, is probably the only country which is not afraid even of a nuclear war. Mao Tse-tung has said repeatedly that he does not mind losing a few million people as still several hundred millions will survive in China. If they are to profit by this invasion, this will lead them to further attempts of the same kind. That will put an end to all talks of peace and will surely bring about a world nuclear war. I feel, therefore, that in order to avoid this catastrophe and, at the same time, strengthen our own people, quite apart from arms, etc., we must not surrender or submit to what we consider evil. That is a lesson I learned from Gandhiji.
We have, however, not rejected the Chinese proposal, but have ourselves suggested an alternative which is honourable for both parties. I still have hopes that China will agree to this. In any event we are not going to break the cease-fire and indulge in a military offensive.
If these preliminaries are satisfactorily settled, we are prepared to adopt any peaceful methods for the settlement of the frontier problem. These might even include a reference to arbitration.
So far as we are concerned, we hope to adhere to the policy of nonalignment although I confess that taking military help from other countries does somewhat affect it. But in the circumstances we have no choice.
I can assure you that the wider issues that you have mentioned are before us all the time. We do hot want to do something which will endanger our planet. I do think, however, that there will be a greater danger of that kind if we surrender to the Chinese and they feel that the policy they hare pursued brings them rich dividends.
Yours sincerely Jawaharlal Nehru