April, 1945
THE COLUMBAN
3
EDITORIAL The whole world has been watching with bated breath the mighty onrush of the latest Russian offensive. In this campaign Russia has shown the world what she really is—the most powerful force in the modern world—a force which is not only now deciding the issue of this gigantic struggle, but one which will also dictate the ensuing peace. On the other hand, let it be known that no single one of the Allies could have won this war without the help of the others, and Russia has only reached her present position of power with the help of Great Britain and the U.S.A. This predominance of Russian power can only be received with mixed feelings outside the domains of the U.S.S.R. People are naturally suspicious of anything new and are inclined to view it with distrust. Socialism, although by no means a new form of government, has never before received as much support as it has in Russia. It is a new way of life to most of us, it brings new ideas to the fore and entails many changes which at first sight appear despicable; but if we were to overcome our prejudices against it and our hereditary tradition, we should see underneath the sheep's clothing just the sort of life for which the world has been looking so long, and which now, more than ever, it needs. Under the stress and strain of war, all countries are compelled to revert to a form of Socialism in which private enterprise has to give way to what are considered the more pressing needs of war. But why should the needs of war be more pressing than the needs of peace? Statesmen are inclined to think of peace as an interlude between wars, instead of war as an interruption of the peaceful advancement of the State. This peaceful advancement of the State must be regular and not haphazard; it must be planned and carried out by public bodies, themselves responsible to the people; and, above all, it must be free from any form of private enterprise or laissez-faire. This mode of life can be applied to all forms of society. Planning must be organised just as thoroughly in peace as in war. We plan on a vast scale the destruction of our neighbours, but do, relatively speaking, very little to lighten the burden of our fellow-countrymen and help them to live decent lives, which, when all is said and done, is the reason why we are here at all. A visitor from Mars, reading the history of the world, would not fail to get the impression that the sole aim and purpose of our existence on this planet was to destroy as many of our brethren as possible, in as short a time as possible—an end to which we strive, not only in mass slaughters called wars, but also in our policy of sitting back and letting things take their own course during the years of peace, when we should be building up our society, and making the world a place where human beings can live in happiness and comfort, without having to turn their attention to the manufacture of some even more diabolical invention for the destruction of their fellow-beings. When this war has been brought to a successful conclusion, the world will have to be rebuilt and reorganised on completely different lines. This reconstruction and reorganisation must be carried out by the people for the people, that is by public bodies who are striving for the social betterment of their fellow-countrymen, and who have no thought of private gain. This means that there will have to be a change in the outlook of men, there will have to be men who are willing to work for others, without thinking of what they themselves are going to lose or gain; and, furthermore, this change of outlook will have to apply to every single man in the world. It is easier to destroy than to build up, and a few men who are out to serve their own ends can undo the very best efforts of those who are striving for the common good. There must be blood, sweat and tears to the shedding of which every man, woman and child must contribute.