FUGITIVES FROM NATIONAL CHAOS

Taranaki Daily News, 24 November 1934, Page 15 (Supplement)

FUGITIVES FROM NATIONAL CHAOS

Royalties, And Leaders In Science And Art, Are Among The World’s Exiles

TfOR MANY people to-day, the A thought of exiles still conjures up pictures of crownless royalty mourning in Holland, or Belgium, or France, the former splendours of Potsdam, Schoenbrunn, or the Palacio Real. Yet in mere mathematics this is absurd. Royalty forms only a fragment of the multitudes who have sought refuge from their own countries. Others tower above the kings as personalities and symbols—a leader of the greatest revolution of the century, the foremost scientist of the present age and one of its greatest novelists. There are others supremely gifted in music, art and social philosophy. Such men and women make a group of exiles such as the world has never known before, and one with social implications that are profoundly disturbing.

There have always been throneless kings wandering about the earth. The 19th century had its Bourbons, Carlists and Bonapartes. But since 1917 nine peoples have driven out their rulers. Russia, Germany, Austria, Spain, Hungary, Bulgaria, Greece, Turkey and Montenegro have done so in Europe and Asia. In most instances republics have taken the place of the monarchies as the rulers have departed. It is a day that fulfils prophetic lines written 75 years ago: “God said, I am tired of kings, I suffer them no more.”

Few royal exiles stand out except as picturesque individuals- Their importance in the new world has diminished. The ex-Kaiser, strolling or chopping wood in his leafy park at Doorn, still provokes some speculation as to whether he or a son or grandson might be called back by a Conservative triumph in Germany. Young Otto, the Habsburg heir in Austria and Hungary seems to be nearer the violent miracle which, in an age of amazing change,' might set him upon a throne. The world regards with amused curiosity the quiet, spectacled face of Henry Pu Yi, an Emperor galvanised into a puppet power in Manchukuo, where Japanese bayonets and machine-guns prop his new-made throne. The others are all but forgotten. Who could tell the present residence of Abdul Medjid Effendi? Alfonso of Spain seldom ripples the stream of

world consciousness, and the Romanoffs stir it even less.

In contrast, commoners from half a dozen nations are subjects of a persistent concern and attention. A few are purely political leaders. Alexander Kerensky, living in Paris, where his paper had suspended publication for lack of funds, lifted a voice last March in his book, “The Crucifixion of Liberty.” This protest against 17 years of Soviet rule was a reminder that an exiled body

Above: Ex-King Alfonso. Left: Leon Trotsky. Right: Professor Einstein. of Russian Social Democrats still have faith that the Communist spirit and method will eventually prove suicidal, and perhaps open a new opportunity for men such as those who made the first revolution in 1917. More dramatic is the figure of Kerensky’s old opponent, Leon Trotsky. Once he led the Red Armies in their successful opposition to the interventionists after the World War. Now he watches with hostile eyes the policy of Stalin and his associates. i Germany sent her tens of thousands into banishment a little more than a year ago. No statesmen of world reputation are among them, though ex-Chancellor Bruening is virtually an exile on German soil. On the other hand, Germans of scientific, musical, literary and professional eminence make the most distinguished of all exiled groups. Einstein, by reputation the world’s greatest scientist, quickly showed his antipathy to the Hitler regime—an antipathy based on profound disagreement with Hitler’s social aims and methods, and later on the persecution of Einstein’s own people, the German Jews. Einstein was at first a voluntary exile. “I do not intend to put my foot on German soil again as long as conditions in Germany are what they are,” he said soon after the Nazis came to power. Later his house was raided, his books burned, his property seized, and on March 30, 1934, the German Minis-

ter of the Interior deprived him of German citizenship. On the other hand, Thomas Mann, Nobel Prize winner in literature for 1929, might still return to Germany if he wished. But the return would doubtless be as dangerous physically for him as it would be impossible psychologically. For Mann, though by blood Teutonic enough to meet the most exacting test of neo-Ger-manism, stands opposed in spirit and social belief to all that Germany now represents. “As a German, I can understand what has happened,” he said last September. “As a human being, I cannot justify it.” France has sent no exiles forth since the war, but the first of all prominent exiles to be created by it was a Frenchman. Romain Rolland was in Switzerland at the time hostilities began. He was one of France’s most distinguished men of letters, had taught history of art at the Sorbonne and introduced the teaching of music there. But Rolland the pacifist, could not speak freely in wartime France and remained in Geneva, later publishing his opinions in his volume, “Above the Battle.” He resides in Switzerland still, at Villeneuve —an admirer of Gandhi, an

honorary member of the Soviet Union Academy of Music, still at 68 a figure whom official France regards with reserve, if not with suspicion.

Life for the Liberal has not been happy in Italy, under the hand of one who does not believe in liberty or democracy. So Fascism there has made its exiles. The historian Ferrero has left the land. Count Sforza, a rugged honest democrat, has found it a poor place for the plain words he likes to speak. The former Premier Nitti lives in France. Gaetano Salvemini, one of the greatest living authorities on the intellectual history of the world, who criticised Italy’s policy in the Adriatic, now lectures at Harvard University. When he came to the United States he is reported to have exclaimed: “To breathe the breath of liberty! My God!”

There are many others among this legion of the landless. A number of associates preceded or followed Spain’s dictator, Primo de Rivera, into exile in 1930, but recent steps have been taken to permit most of them to return. Among the Russians living outside Russia is the. 1933 Nobel Prize winner in literature, Ivan Bunin. Thomas Mann’s brother Heinrich, Erich Maria Remarque, author of “All Quiet on the Western Front”; Ernst Toller, the dramatist, and Feuchwanger, the novelist, are some of the exiled Germans scattered about Europe.