The thing started off with a deceptive air of tranquillity and good fellowship. Three hundred German writers from all zones, plus a half-dozen from abroad, gathered (for the first time since war's end) in Berlin. The Russians, though they sponsored the affair, took it easyat first.
The opening speeches were about such innocuous concerns as German unity and anti-Fascist solidarity. The Russian angel of the performance, a small, feral, red-eyed lieutenant colonel named Alexander Dymshitz, sat and beamed. But as the sessions wore on, the Reds could not resist the temptation to make political hay. Up stood one Vsevolod Vishnevsky,...
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