New-York tribune., 1919-07-09
<"HE proletariat is the creator
of a new civilization

Splendid words containing
beautiful idea-the idea of the triumph
of justice and reason, the triumph OF
man over beast. Thousands of men OF
all classes have willingly faced destruc-
tion that this idea might be realized.
Now, tie proletariat has the power in
Russia in its own hands. With this
power comes, of course, the possibility
to do creative work along free and un-
trammeed lines. 1t is, therefore, timely
and entirely proper to put the question;
wherein does this work (of the pro-
letariat) find expression?'
The official DEGREES being issued by the
peoples comnssaries" are mere news
paper articles, no more. They are kind
OF literature written in sand. Even If
there is here and there a worth while
thought in what they say. the present
day reality offers no possibility for real
izing the thought.
What are the new things the revolu-
tion offers us? Has it changed the bestial
existence so widespread in our country?
Is it shedding any light in between the
thick dark layers of Russia's masses?
Since the outbreak of the revolution
there were 10000 lynchings in Russia.
The democracy executes her wrongdoers
in the following manner:
In the neighborhood of Alexander
market a thief was caught. The mob
pounced upon him and beat him almost
to death. Then they held a meeting to
decide which way the criminal was to
be executed, by drowning or shooting. 1t
was decided to drown him, and the thief
was there and then thrown into the ice
cold> water. However, he managed to
swim to the other side of the river.
Thereupon one Of the mob ran up to
him and shot him.
The middle ages of our history was
a period most revolving in its horrors.
But even in that period it was customary
to let criminal who managed to escape
the gallows alive after having been
hanged enjoy his freedom.
What impression does this form of JUS
tice make upon the growing generation!
Another sample of our Justice:
Soldiers are leading thief to the
Moika "a canal in Petrograd) to drown
him there. The thief has been beaten
so much he is unable to drag himself.
He is covered from head to foot with
blood. His face has been beaten until
it has lost its human semblance. One
of his eyes is running out. A swarm of
children follow the procession. A few of
them return a little later from the
Moika, shouting the news in the street:
"He has been drowned! He has been
drowned"
These are our children, the future Gre
ators Of life They will value human
life all too cheaply. And yet human
being is the most beautiful, the most
precious creation of nature; it is the
greatest thing altogether to be found in
the world. The war has put low value
on human life. We used to protest
against this cheapening Of life and
blamed the "imperialists" for it. But
whom shall we blame for these murders
that daily repeat themselves?
One after another our most valuable
Libraries are being destroyed. Recently
the peasants plundered the estates of
Chudekov, Obolenskiy and others. They
robbed everything which in their eyes
had any value. But the Libraries they
burned, the pianos they hacked into
pieces with axes and the paintings on
the walls they tore up. The products
of art and science, the instruments Of
culture had not the slightest value in