Cold Light (68 page)

Edith refused a bottle of beer, and a glass was found for her and some wine from a half-gallon flagon. She had to put her glass on the floor and use two hands to pour from the flagon. She thought the flagon wine was quite acceptable as a
vin ordinaire
and didn’t understand why people looked down on it. She suspected that quite a few had not drunk much wine in their lives and would hardly be judges of what was a good enough wine and what was ‘rough’. However, she never served the flagon wine at home, even though Richard had suggested it.

When Janice had cleared her to attend the real meeting, she had instructed her not to contribute to the discussion and not to mention that she had ever passed on the British Foreign Office version of Khrushchev’s speech to them. ‘We don’t want it getting around that we’re receiving documents from the British FO.’

Regardless of Frederick’s planning, word had got around about the birthday party among the left-leaning academics and students and fellow travellers and hangers-on, and these people began arriving earlier than expected, which disconcerted Frederick and Janice and the hard-liners of the Party. Frederick turned away the outsiders and told them to come back at 8 pm.

It was the first time Edith had been in the accommodation rooms at University House. She admired the Fred Ward furniture – honey-stained wood, scholarly desks, desk lamps with flexible stands, chairs, bookcases – all intended for serious study, but pleasing.

She said hello to the Gollans. He had been an angry student when last they had met. She had told him she had thought his name then had been Follan. They all laughed. ‘I used various names back then,’ he said.

Turner came over shortly after she and Janice arrived, and they laughed again about the night of the football match in the Causeway Hall.

When she asked what he was doing now back in Melbourne, he said that the Party had made him a book publisher, putting him in control of the Australasian Books Society. ‘You should subscribe. The only book publisher in the country run by writers.’

‘And the Party.’

‘And the Party.’

‘I thought you ran the peace movement for the Party.’

‘I did – now I run publishing.’ He laughed. ‘Murray-Smith runs peace. He also runs the literary magazine for the Party –
Overland
. You should have come to Melbourne for the Games. We entertained the visiting comrades. I took the Peking Opera cast – all those doll-like actresses – to see
The Magic Flute
. I found explaining
The Magic Flute
to the Chinese more difficult than I did the Peking Opera to the Australian comrades. Found both bloody hard to explain. We even had a proper ball: the Australian–Soviet Friendship Society Ball. The communist teams were there in their blazers – the gold-medal gymnasts; wonderful athletic women and men – incredible.’

Edith said, ‘I read that the Hungarians and Russians fought in the water-polo match. The pool water was red with blood. Oh, sorry, that’s a sour note to introduce.’

Janice said the newspapers exaggerated that, ‘as usual’.

Turner said, ‘For God’s sake, one Hungarian got a black eye. That can happen in any water-polo match.’

Edith said, ‘Richard and I watched some of the Games on television. A set’s been installed in the press gallery. We all crowded in.’

Janice had gone to the Games to join with some Young Communists, who formed a cordon picket at the Soviet ship where the teams lived – to protect them from attack.

Edith continued to play the provocative guest. ‘Is it true that more than fifty Hungarian athletes defected – half the team?’

‘I doubt that,’ Janice said.

As she drifted from one cluster of people to another, remaining quiet, she heard Rex Mortimer, who she knew to be a rising star in the Party, say in a lowered, serious voice to Turner and Frederick that Hill had written a confidential letter saying that the secret speech did occur and the report was reliable. Mortimer glanced at her when he realised that she was listening. She smiled and held out her hand. ‘I’m Frederick’s sister,’ she said and he relaxed.

So, it was no longer to be passed off as a hoax.

Frederick asked Mortimer if he should tell this to the meeting.

Mortimer thought so.

Frederick said, ‘Well, if you’re sure?’

Mortimer nodded.

Frederick said, ‘It’s time we started business.’ He called for attention and suggested that people sit on the floor during the discussion. ‘I can’t position myself so that you in the bedrooms can see, but you should be able to hear.’ They did, and as chair he remained standing. He then reminded them that this was not a branch meeting or a cadre meeting. It was an exchange of ideas among comrades – something I would only condone because, well, Canberra is different.’

There was laughter.

Frederick, with his charming smile, added, ‘Lenin: On the Handling of Canberra.’ There were some smiles. ‘The Canberra Question: What Is to Be Done?’ He was smiling and enjoying teasing the local Party members. ‘Remember, just because you’re brainy in some area of study, doesn’t mean you’re right in all matters. I think in the coming year I will have to introduce a little more discipline into the local organisation.’

Some laughter.

He wasn’t smiling.

Having allowed himself these joking remarks, he returned to his Party voice and a business-like face. ‘This is a get-together to put you in the picture, and I now assume you know what that picture is. Officially, discussion of the 20th Congress and the secret speech has closed. Officially, this meeting is not happening. It is a birthday party for Bob Gollan.’

Laughter.

‘There will be no resolutions or motions. Despite the official closure of discussion with the Party, there have been calls from some comrades for more analysis.’

He told the gathering that Hill had confirmed confidentially to the leadership in writing the veracity of the
New York Times
report.

There was a serious silence in the faces of those present. Then someone said furiously, ‘Oh, shit.’

Someone else said, ‘Why didn’t he put that in his report in
Tribune
?’

‘I’ll come to that,’ Frederick said. ‘The issue now is that a correct reading be made of the secret speech.’

Someone asked if Hill had an officially translated copy of the speech.

Mortimer, who had captured one of the three chairs in the room, said that he didn’t think so. ‘The foreign delegates had to hand back their copies after the Congress.’

‘Wonderful,’ someone said sarcastically.

To Edith’s surprise, someone made a blurting noise. Frederick chose to ignore it.

Frederick went on, ‘I shouldn’t have to tell you that freedom to criticise does not mean that factionalism can be tolerated. Nor does it mean freedom to propagate disruptive anti-Party views. The facts never speak “for themselves”; they only speak through analysis – correct analysis – and when we’ve reached a correct analysis, then we decide how to use that analysis strategically.’

From her seat on the floor, Janice added, ‘And when to use it and if to use it.’

Frederick, without looking at her, said, ‘Precisely.’

There was some restlessness when he said this.

‘We all know that some members were unbalanced by the rumours of the secret speech – that analysis was slow to come from the leadership, and as a consequence some members left and some were expelled. Well, those members who left were invited by the Political Committee to apply for readmission to the Party, and some have been accepted back.’

Someone asked if this invitation was still open.

Frederick thought for a moment. ‘Readmission is closed, but applications will be considered.’

Someone said sarcastically, ‘What about the Soviet invasion of Hungary? May we discuss that, sir?’

Frederick ignored this at first, but the person persisted. ‘Are you going to answer?’

Frederick said that it was now known that the Americans were fomenting the unrest in Hungary and funding it, and could well send troops. ‘The Soviet has come to the aid of an allied communist state.’

Someone said, ‘Bullshit.’

Frederick tried to smile, then shook his head and said, ‘Canberra intelligentsia.’ Then he added, ‘Seriously, let’s keep the discussion orderly.’

He continued, ‘The important thing is the correct handling of this within the interests of the Party. Which does not mean endless debates at all levels of the Party. We do not want to go back to the 1920s and argue all those matters that were resolved then about the dangers of wrecking and factions and the need for Party discipline. The leadership has acknowledged the problem of the cult of the individual.’

Someone, addressing the gathering rather than talking to Frederick, said, ‘And continue to practise it.’

Laughter. But some of those seated on the floor told the interjector to shut up.

Someone said, ‘But what about the rest of the secret speech?’ This student rose to his feet then began reading from the
New York Times
report. It looked to Edith like Staples’ roneoed copy. Frederick broke in and said that the student could remain seated. ‘We can all hear you from there.’ The student almost obeyed and then remained standing and continued his reading. ‘ “When asked by a Congress delegate what he, Khrushchev, was doing while Stalin was committing these crimes against the Russian people, Khrushchev snapped, ‘Who said that?’ Silence. ‘Well,’ Khrushchev replied, ‘that is what I was doing, too – keeping silent.’?” ’

There was clapping.

The student sat back down.

Someone said, ‘At least Khrushchev has a sense of humour.’

Someone else said, ‘Gallows humour.’

Someone else said, ‘Stalinist humour.’

The people seated on the floor were now talking among themselves.

Frederick raised his voice to regain control. ‘We need to reaffirm our belief in the Party structure as the only way of formulating policy. Let me put it this way: the Party is a scientific instrument for reaching the proper course of action. It can’t come from drunken discussions in pubs by young university students who think they know everything. No offence. This may come as a shock to you university people, but I remind you that individual IQs alone don’t matter. The Party is smarter than any one IQ. It is smarter than any one individual member. The leadership is the collective mind of the Party. The leadership synthesises the collective intelligence of the Party, including the minds of you intellectuals – from zone committees, to branch, to district, to the Central Committee and so on. I also remind you that Lenin taught that “only those who believe in the people, who submerges himself in the fountain of the living creativeness of the people – workers, peasants and intelligentsia – will win and retain power”.’

There was some clapping.

But Edith thought she heard someone mutter, ‘Oh, Jesus.’

Standing up, Turner told the gathering that although the Party secretariat had closed discussion of the report at all levels of the Party, he wanted to remind them that the earlier Party reading list included: (a) the CPSU resolution; (b) an abridged version of the 20th Congress secret speech; and (c) the statement by the Political Committee. He said, ‘These documents can be had from me if anyone still wants them. But don’t say I said so.’

Some laughter.

Turner held their attention. He had an easy personal style – a head of house at school type, who was one with the boys.

Frederick didn’t comment on Turner’s minor insubordination, but Mortimer came in and said that any more widespread, unmanaged discussion of the 20th Congress would only lead to unprincipled gossip and the breaking of the Party into factions.

There was now an outbreak of side conversations and Frederick made another attempt to control the meeting, asking that the discussion be ‘horizontal’ not ‘vertical’. Someone called out, again with sarcasm, ‘In preference to circular.’

Laughter.

Others were saying that Stalin’s actions were required and inescapable, given the conditions at the time. ‘Stalinism was the cleansing of the Party.’

Someone said, ‘We’re losing members and do not really have a correct line from the leadership. There’s indecision. Tactically, the leadership should not have shown surprise; should not have been caught out.’

Seated beside her, Janice was shaking her head. She turned to the person on the other side of her, and said, ‘We’re losing control of this.’

New people were now arriving, carrying their beer bottles and wine flagons.

Frederick looked at his watch and then said, in a closing voice, ‘The important Melbourne writer, Judah Waten – who, by the way has rejoined the Party this month – said recently that he believed that the Russian revolution was the greatest achievement of the international working class and must be preserved at all cost. I agree with him. That said, I declare the formal part of this meeting closed.’

There was clapping, but it was not unanimously strong.

Edith glanced around. At the beginning there had been some air of solidarity, but now she saw that most – especially those who had not spoken – seemed to know that they had lost their reason for existence. The conversational tone was sombre in places and angry in others.

She felt that she’d had enough. She stood up and was about to slip away when a young scholar from the English Department, whom she had met – Bob Brissenden – began strumming his guitar, which won him the attention of the gathering.

Someone turned off the overhead lights and put on the desk lamp.

Brissenden told everyone that he had picked up a song while studying in England. He strummed his guitar and said, ‘A song by Tom Lehrer.’ He then began to play and sang:

As he reached the last line – ‘Yes, we all will go together, when we go’ – there was clapping and cheering.