Awake!, June 22, 1956
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DO CHRISTIANS KNOW WHAT THEY BELIEVE?
Why the fog in today’s churches?
I Found Faith in God in a Russian Slave Labor Camp
A German’s amazing experience in Vorkuta
Push-Button Climate Cools Your Home
Tremendous strides in air conditioning
Pakistan’s Costly Delay
Whole villages disappeared!
JUNE 22, 1956
SEMIMONTHLY
THE MISSION OF THIS JOURNAL
New* sources that are able to keep you awake to the vital issues of our times must be unfettered by censorship and selfish interests, "Awake!” has no fetters. It recognizes facts, faces facts, is free io publish facts. It is not bound by political ambitions or obligations; it is unhampered by advertisers whose toes must not be trodden on; it is unprejudiced by traditional creeds. This journal keeps Itself free that it may speak freely to you. But it does not abuse its freedom. It maintains integrity to truth.
"Awake!” uses the regular news channels, but Is not dependent on them. Its own correspondents are on all continents, in scores of nations. From the four comers of the earth their uncensored, on-the* scenes reports come to you through these columns. This journal’s viewpoint is not narrow, but is international. It is read in many nations, in many languages, by persons of all ages. Through its pages many fields of knowledge pass in review—government, commerce, religion, history, geography, science, social conditions, natural wonders—why, its cover, age is as broad as the earth and as high as the heavens.
"Awake!” pledges itself to righteous principles, to exposing hidden foes and subtle dangers, to championing freedom for all, to comforting mourners and strengthening those disheartened by the failures of a delinquent world, reflecting sure hope for the establishment of a righteous New World.
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CONTENTS
On What Basis Do You Form Judgments? 3
Do Christians Know What They Believe? 5
Why the Religious Fog?
The Early Church Knew What It Believed 7
I Found Faith in God in a Russian
Slave Labor Camp
Mighty Maori of New Zealand
Chain Reaction
Brazil Inaugurates a President
Push-Button Climate Cools Your Home 17
How Much Noise Is Necessary?
Pakistan’s Costly Delay
"Your Word Is Truth"
Where Do Unbaptized Babies Go
at Death?
Jehovah's Witnesses Preach in All
the Earth—India
Do You Know?
Watching the World
challenge needlessly and we must not let the sound of certain words or phrases
narcotic to put us to sleep
ARE you ready to believe,
credulous, either because of being naturally too trusting or because of shrinking from the burden of thinking? Are you ready to' accept anything as true merely because it was stated by a scientist, a doctor or a clergyman? Do you blindly follow blind leaders simply because they are leaders, not asking where they may be leading you as well as going themselves?
Or are you among those going to the other extreme? In your pride in not being easily imposed upon, do you challenge every statement you hear or read? Are you skeptical as to anyone’s being able to ascertain the truth? Like the dyed-in-the-wool agnostic, do you insist that you do not know and nobody else knows or ever can know? Do you look for the flaws and magnify them and ignore the strong points for the sake of seeming to be wise?
Going to either extreme will keep us from forming proper judgments and arriving at the truth. If we really want to know the truth we may be neither too skeptical nor too ready to believe. We must be willing to listen calmly to what is presented without our emotions’ arising to
Supposed authorities can be mistaken.
The very fact that in almost every field of human knowledge we see radical disagreement shows that some persons must be mistaken. Thus among the physicists the great majority hold to the random theory, that nature operates by chance without any divine direction or motivating force. But a small number, among whom was Einstein, hold that “I cannot believe that God plays dice with the cosmos.” Both views cannot be right,
Or consider the field of medicine. More and more importance is being given to the part the mind plays in the health of the body, as has been revealed in the study of psychosomatic medicine. According to some doctors the mmd is responsible for the great majority if not all our ills. But according to others, the mind plays only a minor role in the health of the body. And what about the conflicting claims of the allopaths, homeopaths, osteopaths and the chiropractors? They, likewise, cannot all be right.
The same is true in art. Some art critics claim to see great beauty in impressionistic and other forms of modem art, be it
in music, painting or sculpture. On the other hand, there are many art critics who are very outspoken in cqndemning the modem trends as merely manifestations of the neuroses that afflict man today rather than any sincere effort to express emotions or beauty i>r to portray man’s striving for the ideal. Here, also, both cannot be right.
In forming judgment on a certain matter it is well that we be especially careful to distinguish between facts and opinions when one presents a matter in a way that exalts himself and belittles others who disagree. For example: In the authoritative, modern scientific work Scientific American Reader appear a number of articles on the origin of man, written by various scientists. One of these states: "No scientist of any eminence, so far as I know, would now hold that man is a special creation.” Thus with great self-assurance he questions the ability of any scientist who believes what the Bible has to say about God’s being the Creator of man. We should not be overwhelmed by such a statement, for it would be very difficult to prove and would depend upon what he considered an eminent scientist and how wide his familiarity with scientists is. He would have been far more convincing had he presented facts in proof of his position.
Why did he not do so? The question can be answered by noting what another scientist, writing on the same subject, in the same book and on just the previous page, had to say: "Year by year their bones accumulate in our museums. Year by year we sort and arrange^ and ponder,” trying to figure out who are the ancestors of man. Why “sort and arrange and ponder”? Why? Because they do not know but can only guess. Lacking facts they can only guess, yet they belittle anyone who fails to be impressed by their guesses!
Nor should we let the weight of learned opinion put us in bondage and make hypocrites of us. Why be afraid to admit that we enjoy Western folk music just because some consider it “low-brow”? And why pose that we enjoy a certain selection of music just because it is good, serious or classical music? There is much folk music that is truly beautiful; in fact, many of the greatest composers borrowed freely from folk music. On the other hand, much serious music is without inspiration and is boring, some modem serious music even bordering on the hideous.
And most important of all is our exercising good judgment in matters religious. Having settled in our minds that God exists and that his Word is truth, we must judge everything on the basis of those premises. Often a person of good will, after having heard some Bible truths explained by_a witness of Jehovah, will go to his priest or minister with questions. But the clergyman, instead of answering the questions on the basis of reasons, facts and the Scriptures, more often than not will belittle what the witness has said, on the basis that the witness has not attended a theological seminary. But if that gives one an understanding of the Bible, why is it that so many different seminaries teach so many different things?
It was the same in Jesus’ day. To officers impressed by what they heard Jesus say the Pharisees sneered: “You have not been misled also, have you? Not one of the rulers or of the Pharisees has put faith in him, has he?” And John recorded that “many even of the rulers actually put faith in him, but because of the Pharisees they would not confess him.” How foolish! Do not be as such men were. Do not let the opinions of men turn you away from what you know is the truth. Reason, calmly weigh the facts and then form your judgment.—John 7:47, 48; 12:42, New World Trans.
KNOW
Of all Iha world's great teodiore, naira have been so lovingly extolled In Christendom as Christ Jesus. But of all the world's great teachers, not one has left a group of moral principles so feebly practiced by so ] many professing him. Who is to blame ' for lire spiritual haze over Christendom? ।
*g3s’«'
HY am I so mixed up about my religion?” asked a young woman. ''I’m not sure what I believe. Religion in my life is not a dynamic force. It doesn’t move me or thrill me the way I think it should. Maybe it’s because Tm not definitely convinced of my religion. Then again, who is?” True, not many believe anything any more with real conviction. They are tolerant of almost anything, shocked by little. “They believe they believe,” said the historian Viereck. “They do not necessarily believe.”
One would think that after two thousand years of Christian teaching the people ought to be sure of at least two things— what Christian doctrine is and whether it can be believed or not. But after two thousand years Christendom still is not sure. Her doctrines are ill-defined and a good many of them are still a mystery. Her devotees flounder about in a sea of confusion as to what to believe. Bishop Wells of the West Missouri diocese of the Episcopal Church said that 90 percent of the church members might well be called religious illiterates.
Recently a survey of a group of American and British churchgoers showed that only 11 percent of those interviewed accepted the Biblical view ci man and that about 50 percent of the British and a little under half the Americans rejected the idea that "forgiveness of sins is a beggar’s refuge.” While 94 percent believed that God is personal, almost 22 percent of those who made these confident affirmations believed that "it makes no difference what you believe; it is what you are that counts.” While 84 percent believed in the immortality of the soul, only 31 percent held the “Christian view of immortality.” On this point Dr. Herron, a critic of these findings, declared that Christendom’s view that "there is no real death, but that the soul lives on forever in the spirit world” is "almost a direct repudiation of the Christian faith!” The same religious conflictions were noted among members of a happy, prosperous, growing church, under a brilliant teaching and pastoral ministry, as were found in the others.
Does this survey indicate that churchgoers know what they believe, that they are in an agreement as to wnat is Christian doctrine? Or does it manifest indecision, uncertainty as to what Christian doctrine really is? Or is it a sign of a decay of Christian faith, as some believe?
This much appears obvious from the report, that Christendom’s religious thinking is murky, that members of the same denomination are not in agreement on doctrinal matters, that Christian principles are not clearly defined, that a good majority that profess Christianity do not practice it, that the distinction between pagan and Christian doctrine is not clear-cut, that there is altogether too much personal opinion, and philosophy taught and not enough Bible; that conviction, faith and trust in the Bible ds the Word of God are lacking; that the people are not sure how to worship, what to believe and why they believe what they believe.
Why the Religious Fog?
Who is responsible for the spiritual fog that blankets Christendom? Bishop Wells seems to think it is the churchgoer’s fault. He declared: "The fact of the situation is that 90 per cent of our church members— not the leaders, but the average man and woman—do not really know what they believe and why. They might be called religious illiterates. Many persons do not know the Bible.” While it is true that the average man does not know what he believes and why and that he does not know the Bible, yet he does not stand alone in this class. The same can be said of the leaders, the clergy, of Christendom. They too do not know what they believe and why. And their ignorance of the Bible is appalling.
A survey made by Dr. George Herbert Betts of Northwestern University and published in a little book entitled "The Beliefs of 700 Ministers” shows religious clergymen are as confused as their members. Dr. Betts wanted to determine: “All formal creeds aside, what do the ministers of our churches believe? Do they agree to a man on the beliefs within a single denomination? Do the denominations agree with each other on the great fundamental matters of Christian faith? Can we of the masses find in our spiritual leaders a certainty of belief on the crucial questions of religion such as warrants our trusting their insight?” To answer this he sent 56 basic doctrinal questions to 1,500 representative clergymen and theological students; 700 replied. Here are the percentages on certain representative questions:
Did they believe:
Not
Old Testament
Yes
Sure
No
prophets inspired?
The trinity doctrine?
Record of creation?
Biblical miracles?
In an actual devil?
Jesus' virgin birth?
Heaven is a place?
Hell?
This survey proved that the clergy are just as confounded as their parishioners, that they are not in accord as to what is Christian doctrine, that they are in fact responsible for the confusion that now reigns among their members. "For whatever a man is sowing, this he will also reap.” The clergyhave sown human traditions and pagan philosophies and have taught these as gospel truth. They have glorified the wisdom of men and cast aspersions on the Bible, calling it an old-fashioned book, a book of mythology, fakes and forgeries. They have sown seeds of doubt, confusion and foul wind among their church members. And now they are made to reap what they have sown.—Galatians 6:7, New World Trans.
To the religious leaders of his day, Jesus said: “Woe to you who are versed in the
Law, because you took away the key of knowledge; you yourselves did not go in [to the Kingdom], and those going in you hindered!” On another occasion he said to them: “You have made the word of God invalid because of your tradition.” His apostle Paul warned: “Look out: perhaps there may be some man that will carry you off as his prey through the philosophy and empty deception according to the tradition of men, according to the elementary thifigs of the world and not according to Christ.”—Luke 11:52; Matthew 15:6; Colossians 2:8, New World Trans.
Either the Bible is the Word of God or it is not; its Genesis account is either true or false; the miracles it mentions either occurred or did not; either Jesus was born of a virgin or the Bible lies. There are not two answers to these questions, but only one. The confusion is not in the Bible, but in self-conceited men. Too many of them care too little about what the Bible says. They prefer their own ideas to God’s. By following their own theories they have turned from pure worship and have fallen headlong into the miry pit of their own ambiguities where they now flounder. The wise man’s advice is: “Trust in Jehovah with all thy heart, and lean not upon thine own understanding: in all thy ways acknowledge him, and he will direct thy paths. Be not wise in thine own eyes; fear Jehovah, and depart from evil.”—Proverbs 3:5-7, Am. Stan. Ver.
The Early Church Knew What It Believed
One thing is sure, the early Christian church was not confused in its .worship of God. Jesus told the Samaritan woman: “We worship what we know.” There was no trace of doubt or hesitancy on his part, but absolute conviction. His apostles voiced the same conviction and assurance. John said: "We know we originate with God, but the whole world is lying in the power of the wicked one. But we know that the Son of God has come, and he has given us intellectual capacity that we may gain the knowledge of the true one. And we are in union with the true one, by means of his Son Jesus Christ. This is the true God and life everlasting.” The apostle Paul was just as sure and just as definite. He declared that there is but one body, one spirit, one hope, “one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all persons, who is over all and through all and in all”; that the gospel of Jesus Christ is the only gospel. And “even if we or an angel out of heaven were to declare to you as good news something beyond what we declared to you as good news, let him be accursed.” There cannot be a shadow of doubt that the early church knew what they believed and why. Their words tell of their conviction.—John 4:22; 1 John 5:19, 20; Ephesians 4:4-6; Galatians 1:8, New World Trans.
So, today, true Christian witnesses of Jehovah God throughout the world, whether in the bush in Africa or in the rice paddies of China, the coal mines of Siberia, the jungles of the Amazon, on the Champs Elysees in Paris or on New York’s Park Avenue, voice their convictions, and it is evident that they know what they believe and why. And perhaps what is more amazing is that they all doctrinally believe and teach the same thing throughout the world. This is because they hold closely to the Bible as the. Word of God. It Is its harmony that keeps them morally, spiritually and doctrinally united. Jehovah’s witnesses stand on the sure foundation, Christ Jesus, and are inseparably attached to the one true God, Jehovah. Of these Christians it can be said, they know what they believe and why.
by « rfpaMeted Gentian citiien
The author of this ar. Uti* apsrrt mor* than five yaaro in Soviet RumIb’s meet dreaded Aretia camp at Vorkuta. He woe reiaaaed in Au gu at, 1955. His deaeration of his lite as a slave and t>f the life of a fellow prisoner, one of Jehovah's Witnesses, is most interesting. The author says there Were about 1,800 of Je. bo van’s witnesses in the various c*rnps of Vorkuta, tutfafing un-der the disgraceful rule of the Russian Communists because of their belief In God.
T WAS Christmas I Eve, December 24, 1954- My thoughts and the thoughts of most of the men with me were of home, but home was a long way off. We were prisoners of the dreaded Arctic slave labor camp Vorkuta, which is located barely fifty miles from the Arctic Ocean in Siberia, Russia.
In my brigade of about thirty men there was a strange mixture of neople—Lithuanians, Latvians, Esthonians, Russians, Ukrainians; Poles, Romanians, Japanese and Germans. While none of these could speak the same language, yet they understood one another’s deep hatred for communism. Communism had robbed them of all that they had ever held sacred and dear. It had reduced them to serfs in a bitter northland, where nothing green grows. Here in this vast wasteland they are forced to spend their precious lives in dark coal mines.
Christmas Eve was just another day. An angry shout from a guard moved my brigade past him as he counted them one by one. A shrill blast of a whistle brought the men to a sudden halt. Something had gone wrong. The guard boomed at me: “Where’s the thirty-second man?” “I don’t know,” I replied. Displeased, he pointed to a slip showing there were thirty-two men assigned to me. Tile men became furious, because this could mean hours of checking and rechecking—not a pleasant prospect standing in weather 76 degrees below freezing.
I could not imagine who the missing man was. A few minutes later a soldier came with the answer. A young Ukrainian lad had refused to work and had already been thrown into the dungeon. The work slip was corrected. The brigade moved on toward the work pit. Without him, however, how was I to fulfill' the required norm? The lad was very exact and a conscientious worker. The man that took the lad’s place was a novice at the trade. Even though we worked hard, like beasts, yet with a key man gone and a few mishaps, we were able to meet only 68 percent of our required daily norm, which was a very poor report. When the chief saw our work report, he let loose a verbal barrage that should have melted the northern icecaps. He was ready to arrest the whole brigade for sabotage, but rescinded after deciding to submit the matter to the pit foreman the next day. This was Christmas Day for me, December 25, 1954. As I lay on my bunk I thought again of the Ukrainian lad and wondered why he refused to work. J
tried to sleep, but could not. All around me were men in a deep, deathlike sleep. Their heavy breathing, snoring and the smell of the place kept me awake. I sat up just to look around.
What a pathetic sight! These men were between the ages of 17 and 70; and their sentences ranged from 20 to 25 years’ forced labor. Yet not one of them knew exactly why he was there. I was not different. I had already spent eighteen months in the Lubjanka prison of Moscow and five of a twenty-five-year sentence in Vorkuta. Somehow with these morbid thoughts I drifted off to sleep.
The next day I went to see the camp manager, a Caucasian colonel, to learn why the young Ukrainian was arrested, because without him the required norm could not be met. The colonel explained that the matter was out of his hands, that I should see the major in charge of that department at twelve o’clock. That was bad news, because a man in the major’s hands was considered as good as dead.
I hurried over to the Ukrainian’s barracks to find out the real reason for the lad's arrest. There an elderly man, a Romanian, informed me quite willingly. “The young Ukrainian of whom you speak,” he said looking directly at me, “is one of Jehovah's witnesses.” “Yes,” I said, “go on.” “He had in his possession a Bible, which the guards took away. The lad told them that he would not return to work until he got his Bible back. The two soldiers carried him off to the dungeon.” “Didn’t you warn the lad of the possible consequences of his behavior?” I asked. “Doesn’t he know that seven days in the dungeon in the dead of the winter is sure death?” The old man nodded. “He knows. The boy has faith. That’s why he's here. He'll live through the seven days. His God will not abandon him.” I left the barracks in a hurry, puzzled and disturbed over the old man’s attitude. “What a strange way to react to something so serious," I thought to myself.
Meeting the political commander was something that I did not exactly relish. But I had decided to help the young Ukrainian, because I needed him as a workman. Without him, I would eventually be tossed into the dungeon for not fulfilling the daily norm. At twelve I stood lace to face "with the major, whose eaglelike eyes pierced me through. For what seemed like hours I stood there with him staring at me without saying a word. Suddenly he erupted with a flood of verbal violence. "You dirty capitalist pig!” he screamed at me at the top of his voice. “You rotten dog, helping this clerical rabble!” I tried to show him how necessary this man was for the work, but ail I apt in return was a flood of abuse. I practically ran from his office.
Choosing Dungeon
Back in my barracks, I put my things in order, handed my watch and what little money I had to a friend of mine and told him that I was not reporting for work and that most likely I would be found in the dungeon the following days. Shortly thereafter I was handcuffed and escorted to room No. 4. There I spent the hardest hour of my life. When I regained consciousness, I was in the dungeon, with my right arm in plaster of Paris. Evidently it had been broken. It was impossible for me to get up from the floor where I lay in my underwear. It was terribly cold.
Early one morning a prisoner, with hands and face covered with blood, was brought into my cell, while I was transferred to cell 22. There in one corner was the Ukrainian lad id his underwear. A few seconds passed as we looked at each other. Then he stretched out his hand and asked' me to sit down. I told him what had happened. He took my hand and firmly
pressed It in his. “What a wonderful way to say thanks,” I thought to myself. At six o’clock we were given our rations-for the day, 400 grams of ’bread and one liter of water. He wanted to give me his bread, but I refused. As I looked at the boy, the old man’s words flashed in my mind: “The boy has a faith for which he is ready to die, if need be.” I could see it in him. This faith then became the subject of our discussions. I asked the lad to tell me why he was in prison. Here is his story as he told it to me.
The Ukrainian’s Story
“When I was born there was a severe famine in my home country, the Ukraine. My father, a country doctor, was so busy that we often thought that he had forgotten about us. Two years after my birth my sister was born. Our childhood was rather carefree.
“Then came the war. Evenings the four of us would meet in the sitting room together and father would read to us from the Bible. One day father received a letter. It was an order for him to join the Red Army. Father said good-by to us very warmly as he left home one day, we thought to join the army. But the very next day some soldiers surrounded our house, while an officer and four men came in. They demanded to know where my father was. Mother wept and assured them that he had left to join the army. After they had gone, mother seemed quite concerned. One night Tthought I had heard a noise. Looking out of the window to see who it might be, I saw my mother creeping out of a hole we had dug in the garden. She covered the opening with planks, threw firewood over them and then came to the house.
“About an hour later I decided to investigate. Equipped with a stable lantern I went to the place, removed the planks and firewood and uncovered the opening.
There I saw my father wrapped in blankets. He looked at me, then in a soft voice said, ‘Don’t be afraid. Come to me.’ I went to him and he clasped me in his arms. He told me why he was down there. He said that he could never be a soldier because his faith in God forbade him to be. He told me if I wanted to, I could come to him every night at the same hour and that he would be glad to read to me from the Bible and tell me about Jehovah’s witnesses. We parted affectionately and I promised to return the following night.
"Night after night I would visit with him. Even though I was but a child, I became a devoted servant of God, one of Jehovah’s witnesses. Our reunions in the pit were happy ones, but our happiness was not to last long. About fifteen days later, soldiers came directly to the pit and arrested my father and mother. My sister and I wept bitterly as we saw them being taken away.
“My mother returned home the next day, but my father was assigned to work as a civilian doctor at the army hospital in Minsk. The war months seemed to pass quickly. When the Red Army retreated before the German onslaught, our village fell to the invaders. My mother and sister were sent away to Germany to do slave labor. But Hitler’s war machine collapsed, and the war came to an end. We learned shortly thereafter that father was still in Minsk.
“Two years after the war ended, I went to Smolensk to learn a trade. There I lived in a home set aside for students. I was only sixteen years old at the time. Many of these students gladly listened to me when I read from the Bible, even though most of them were members of the Komsomol, that is, the Communist youth movement. From time to time the N.K.V.D. [later name of secret police] would make an appearance. They would go through the rooms and remove all prohibited items.
My friends would warn me before they came. This gave me time to collect my Bible and booklets, which I had received from the Watch Tower Society, and give them to a friend of mine who was the chairman of the Komsomol in our shop. The police never suspected him. I learned my profession well and enjoyed my work. In the spring of 1953 I was made foreman. Everything seemed to be working out quite smoothly for me,
“In May, 1953, while on my job, I was arrested and taken to Minsk. After being kept in prison for three months I appeared before the court. There I met my father, mother and sister, who were also arrested. All of us were charged with ‘high treason' and ‘collaboration in the intelligence service of a foreign power.’
“Father was banished to Russia for life; mother got twenty years; sister, fifteen years in a forced labor camp; and I, ten years. From that day till this, I haven’t heard from father. My mother and sister are four miles from here. They’re in the ‘Brett-Pit.’
“So, that’s about all. You know the rest. Do you have any questions?”
What was there to say? After a moment of silence, I asked him if he would explain his beliefs to me. He said he would, but that I would have to wait until the next day. Both of us were hungry and weak. The northeast wind seemed to stop blowing, but the cell was still unbearably cold.
Diacuaaitiff Faith in the Pit
Day after day the young Ukrainian witness would talk to me about the Bible, about God and his purposes, and about Jehovah’s witnesses in general. Sometimes in the dungeon pit we got into heated discussions. Never having read the Bible, I would have to yield. It puzzled me how any one so young knew so much about life.
His mental balance and conviction were astounding.
During one night we composed a poem. We called it "To Our Companions in Adversity!" With prison soap we wrote the five verses, forty lines in all, on the dungeon wall. The poem was a bold indictment against our enslavers and words of encouragement to those who suffered at their hands to hold. fast. The poem was climaxed with the true hope that God gives to mankind, the hope of the new world, wherein righteousness and justice are to dwell. The last words of the poem were:
“With your pains you have made full the measure.
What you have suffered, Was just that missing in the weight To fill to full the scales of Justice, And for God tn precipitate that power which shall
Destroy forever all mankind’s oppressors,
To free the way for God’s new world of righteousness.
So then, dear friends, do not rebel against your pains,
They certainly will pass like mist in morning's wind.
Endure courageously—lift up your head$!”
My companion’s term of punishment was to end today. He had survived the dungeon, A youthful lieutenant came and asked him if he was ready to work. With quietness and composure my witness friend replied: “I have never stayed away from work without i reason. But as I have stated before, first give me my Bible, then I will work. If you don’t return my Bible, then I won’t leave this cell.” The lieutenant’s face flushed a dark red. No doubt he had never heard a prisoner speak to him that way before. He motioned to two soldiers to pull the witness out of the cell.
Through the dungeon door 1 could hear my friend say: “My God be graciofis to you,” as the soldiers beat him mercilessly.
Reading “The Watchtower” in Vorkuta
Late that evening ! was released and sent to the hospital. The very next day the old man whom I had met in the barracks paid me a visit. He asked me how I was and about his brother in the faith. He kne^/ that I had shared a cell with him, I told him everything. He asked me if I wanted to read something in Russian. I told him that I would. He went away and came back about fifteen minutes later with a neatly bound mimeographed copy of the Watchtower magazine. I read every word of it and was now able to understand fully the youth's attitude and courage. It defied imagination to know how The Watchtower could circulate in Russia, where every third man is a police spy. And yet to be reading it in Vorkuta, a forced labor camp with all its rigid controls, that simply was too much to believe. Still, there The Watchtower was in ' my hands, neatly bound in a cover, no less.
March 1, I was sent back to work. My friend was still in the dungeon. His sufferings came to an end the first part of April, 1955, when he was sent to the hospital. He had contracted a dangerous inflammation of the eyes and was nearly blind, but he brought his Bible out with him. I visited him at the hospital every day. We exchanged letters and cards and I shared my parcels with him. He received letters regularly from his mother and sister, who were _jSA| B evidently very devoted witness- ^3lB es too.
Later, we attended meetings -Wwj together, which were held in our camp. I was surprised to learn that there were 122 witnesses of Jehovah in our camp and over 1,800 of them throughout the whole of Vorkuta^ My witness friend and I saw each other daily and exchanged thoughts under the midnight sun. These were some of the most beautiful days in camp for me.
Freedom and Memories
Late one evening in August, 1955, the camp manager called me to his office and informed me that I was to be released and sent back to my home country. I could hardly believe it. While I was glad to leave, I regretted to part with my friends. The Ukrainian witness wrote a few words on a piece of paper and gave it to me as a reminder of our close friendship. He urged me to call on his brothers and sisters in the faith when I got home and tell them that all the brothers and sisters in Vorkuta prison camp are determined to remain faithful to Jehovah, come what may; and that I should convey their love to the brothers in the whole world.
Early the next morning we embraced and almost before I knew it my prison life was behind me. Snow began to fall. Winter would soon begin again in Vorkuta. Three weeks later I was with my mother in southern Germany. Soon after I returned home; however, I sat down and wrote a letter to my friend in Vorkuta and sent him several parcels. I sincerely hope that he has received these parcels.
_ The witnesses, and especially the young Ukrainian, will always be a reminder to me MBS B that those years in Vorku-wflB ta were a nightmarish realPerpetrated by a leading government of this world to its shame and undoing.
LONG before Columbus sailed over the Atlantic for the Western Hemisphere, a party of voyagers had crossed another mighty ocean to make their home in a new land far to the south—a land acclaimed by venturesome travelers to be so beautiful, pleasant and rich that surely it must be the dwelling place of the gods. This land the Maori, a laughing brownskinned people, set out to conquer. They called this dream paradise of theirs Aotearoa (the long white cloud).
Two hundred years, however, had passed before the dreams of the Maori gave way to action and preparation began for a large-scale migration. Mighty canoes, each with a capacity of more than one htm-dred men and women, were completed. With nothing but the sun and the stars to guide them, the Maori migrants began their 2,500-mile journey from Havaiki (the fabled original homeland of the Polynesians) across an uncharted sea to their beloved Aotearoa. Driven by winds and currents, tossed by storm and tempest, drenched with rain, starved for food and fresh water, they moved on and refused to turn back. What seemed like ages later, the living few grounded their canoes on the glistening sands of “the long white cloud.” Their beloved Aotearoa they found to be, as it still is, a place of entrancing beauty. The white man called this new home of theirs New Zealand. Unfortunately, it did not turn out to be the peaceful home that the Maori had hoped for.
Jealousies and imagined wrongs among the tribes led to bitter enmities. Whole tribes plunged themselves into baptisms of sanguinary wars. As warriors, they are fleece and fearless fighters. War parties were always accompanied by priests who chanted the right spells and incantations. The first person encountered on way to battle, whether he was friend or foe, was killed and offered to the gods. During war dances the air was split with blood-curdling war cries, each cry designed to strike fear Into the heart of the enemy. Fighting was mostly hand to hand, with a clublike weapon called a patu. Spears and battle-axes were also used. It was not until the white man came with his musket that the mode of battle changed.
Ate the Flesh of Their Enemies
After the battle was over the victors would feast, and many of those fallen in combat were cooked and eaten. Yes, the early Maori was a cannibal. In those days the cry of mu (to the ovens) was a constant one. There are reports that after a dreadful massacre that took place on the banks of the Tamaki River, the victors remained there feasting and gorging themselves on human flesh until the stench of
the putrefying remains of the uneaten bodies drove them away.
However, we are not to think of the Maori as always fierce and cruel, as some history books depict him. He has a very keen sense of humor, and where groups are gathered laughter and jesting abound. Maoris favor the communal system of living. All dwell together Ln what is called a pa. In bygone days this would be fortified by tall wooden fences and wide ditches. Inside the enclosure were the houses and a wide open space known as the marae, where the people gathered to hear their leaders discuss their problems. As the Maori is a natural orator and the language is poetical and picturesque, it is not surprising that many a silver-tongued warrior inflamed or stifled the passions of his listeners as he willed. A good memory was essential, for there was no written language and no books in which to keep the family records and the legends that all had to learn.
The Maori'was a most proficient carver. He carved wood until it had the appearance of lace. His weapons, his house, his canoe, all came under the greenstone chisels, and even his face was carved. He endured this painful method of tattooing for sake of prestige. The designs were mostly spiral in form and tattooing certainly added to the ferocious appearance of the subject.
A Religion of Many Gods
As for religion, to the Maori Io was the father god, the creator who could not be seen or imagined. Like the Israelites of old who left off pronouncing the name of Jehovah out of fear and superstition, the Maori for the same reason seldom uttered the name of Io aloud. Ra was the sun god, Mama the moon god; then came the gods of war, peace, sky and mist. Ru, the god of earthquakes, could not be seen, but made his presence felt. At nighttime, they believed, wandering spirits were everywhere, while ghosts were kept away by sacred red ocher, right spells and incantations. Anything that was sacred or forbidden was called tapu. To violate the law of tapu invariably meant death.
North Cape of New Zealand was to the Maori a most sacred spot. It was from here, they believed, that the spirits of the dead left for their ancient home of Havaiki far to the north. It is of interest that at this very spot the migratory bird the godwit gathers in its thousands from all parts of the country, in readiness for the long ten-thousand-mile flight to Siberia.
When burying the dead, the Maori’s former custom was first to place the corpse in the fork of a tree, where it was left until the flesh wasted. Then the ceremony of mahunga, or bone scraping, was performed. This ghoulish task fell to the priest; who, of course, was well rewarded for his services. When the bones were scraped clean and polished they were oiled with shark oil and pigeon fat, wrapped in freshly dressed flax, and after much feasting the remains, now strictly tapu or sacred for all time, were laid away in the sacred cave.
When the white man first paid his visit to the Maori land he was accepted with curiosity. Then the Maori adopted a friendly or hostile attitude, according to the white man’s behavior, but perhaps always with some resentment toward the newcomers. It is not surprising that some of the Europeans found their way into the Maori ovens, although it is said that the flesh of the white mein was not so palatable as that of the native, he being, we are told, rather salty.
In 1769 came Captain Cook, then the whalers, new settlers and traders, and in 1841 came government and the first British-appointed governor, Lieutenant Hob-
son. Land deals were arranged, some fair, others not so fair. The Maori had by now equipped himself with the white man’s musket. In intertribal wars tremendous carnage took place, especially among those without the coveted guns. The Maori proved himself a power to be reckoned with and many are the accounts of his bravery and chivalry in combat.
Many Maoris Worship the True God
Wali*1* Kingdom Hall
There are many of this noble and intelligent race who revere Jehovah God as their Creator and who refuse to be caught in the swirl and strife of this old system of things. This is evidenced by the numbers now quitting the religions of this world and with zest and joy hailing the New World government of Jehovah and his King, Christ Jesus. In unselfish devotion they dedicate themselves to serve the Most High God, becoming earnest students of his Word, and with their natural fluency of speech they become able ministers. They are qualified to preach and they minister to both pakeha (white man or foreigner) and Maori yet bound in Satan’s old world.
Their zeal is manifest in that among all the congregations in New Zealand a Maori congregation was the first to build its own Kingdom Hail.
Situated in the far north, the Waima Kingdom Hall bears testimony to the faith and devotion of the Maori brothers. Under the guidance of a European minister of Jehovah’s witnesses, they met and mastered their problem. The building stands as a prominent landmark in the district, a testimony to the unity of Jehovah’s witnesses. They succeeded where others of different faiths had failed.
The Maori has indeed come a long way since he left his Havaiki six hundred years ago. Now he is being called upon to make another trek. This time it is out of the troublesome sea of this old world and on into the New World society. He cannot afford to wait as his forefathers did. He must make his decision now before the war of Armageddon makes it too late. His present journey will be a pleasure, because a whole new world stands ready to help him and the reward for his efforts is a paradise as his eternal home.
Xfeaciiori
<£ Curiosity did not kill the cat, but It took a lot or Sparkle out of the Hie of a resident of Castelfranco Veneto, Italy. The man was awakened by a machlne-gunllke series of bangs coming from his cellar. He grabbed a shotgun to cope with the prowler. He found that the cat had overturned one of his 160 bottles of champagne, which exploded and set off a chain reaction. All 160 bottles exploded. One cat, thoroughly drenched and disgusted at the curious principle of chain reaction, went looking for new lodging.
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By *'Awaic«l” corrMiHHMiMt In Brazil
■JANUARY 31, inauguration day! Juscellrio I] Kubitschek, Brazil's president-elect, takes ■ office! But why are all these troops and tanks In the streets of Rio de Janeiro, and heavily armed guards in all the strategic points from Catete Palace to the Chamber of Deputies? It is a long story, but let us consider the high points of this thrilling drama.
President Vargas was dead, but the open sore of dissension among the armed forces was only superficially healed. It was the army that had raised Vargas to power In 1930, had deposed him in 1945, and again had forced him to consent to resign on the eventful 24th of August, 1854. Vargas had committed suicide. Catt Filho, vice-president, had taken over to fill out the uncompleted five-year term that ended this year. According to Brazilian law he could not succeed himself. Who would be the next president?
Of the four candidates Jusoelino Kubitschek de Oliveira was conceded the victory even before the close votes were officially counted. Opponents of the Vargas regime strongly objected to Juscelino’s taking office because (1) the Communists, in a last-minute action, swung their votes to him, and (21 his running mate, a strong Vargas supporter, was suspected of conspiring with Perdu to form a “syndicalist republic" in Brazil.
In November, when temporary president Cafd Filho asked for a sick leave, Carlos Luz, speaker of the Chamber of Deputies, took office. When Luz refused to discipline a colonel whom the minister of war, General Teixeira Lott, felt had openly appealed to the army to prevent the duly elected candidates from taking office, Minister of War Lott feared a golpe, or sudden revolt, was at hand. To prevent this, on the night of November 10, with the firing of only eight shots, and with no casualties, the army, under directions from General Lott, ousted Carlos Luz from the presidency and installed Nereu Ramos, president of the Senate, to serve until the duly elected president would take office, January 31. 7 In a “Man of the Year" poll by the newspaper Ultima Hora, General Lott received seventy-three percent of the carefully chosen ballots. "I took measures to see that the will of the people was respected; that is what the army is for," he explained. And so, “operation Lott" averted the golpe with its probable bloodshed, eased the tension, and the nation settled down as calmly as was possible under a state of siege and rigid censorship to await the eventful last day of January.
And what a festive day it was! At Tira-dentes Palace the oath of office was taken by Juscellno Kubitschek. Then at Catete Palace Nereu Ramos took off the green-and-gold sash, the distinguishing badge of the presidency, and fastened it across the breast of President Kubitschek, saying: "With the realization of this act, there is closed one of the most significant episodes of our national political life.”
‘J? During the election campaign President Kubitschek had promised "power, transportation and food,” and there are those who look at his economic success as governor of Minas Gerais and hope that he may really be able to accomplish ‘fifty years’ progress in five. Following his inauguration he did not minimize the serious economic situation, but he told Congress that he hopes to use the building of roads, railroads and power plants to increase production and combat the nation’s major financial ills.
Will it work? Will the people put aside their partisan politics and unite to improve the conditions of all? Discord already has arisen, but, whatever the political future, a growing number of Brazilians are recognizing the need for improvement, and realize that this is the time when, by God's power and kingdom, really righteous conditions are near at hand.
SH-BUTTON
AHl conditioning is proving itself to be a mighty nice thing to have around the house. Once it was considered beyond the reach of the average man, but no more. In the last five years it has been moved out of the luxury column and classified with the washing machine and refrigerator as an “everyday necessity.” Especially Is this true in zones where the temperature hovers for days near the 90-100-degree mark.
However, air conditioning cannot be considered something modem or new. Bees practiced the art for ages. And primitive man air-conditioned his home by hanging strips of wet cloth in the entrance ways and windows. Modern methods of cooling, however, began back in 1902, when Willis H. Carrier, sometimes called “the father of air conditioning,” designed a humidity and air-cooling control machine. Other improvements soon followed. But high costs discouraged any thought of this wondrous innovation’s ever entering the home.
As early as 1927, millions of American movie-goers came in touch with the marvelous possibilities of air conditioning. On hot sultry days whole families migrated to nearby refrigerated theaters to find refuge. Gradually, air conditioning worked its way into factories, offices, railroads, department stores, banks and other places of
employment When
the mercury soared, it merely accentuated the advantages of airconditioning. The contrast became so pronounced that workers hated to leave their aircooled offices to face the stifling heat of their apartments or homes. As a result, a whcte new airconditioned era has appeared.
Gone are those hot blistering days when the overhead fan did nothing but blow the scorching heat around, when perspiration flowed freely and clothes stuck to the body as if glued. Gone, too, are those days when cooking at high noon, was a suffocating ordeal, when muggy nights were sleepless, spent tossing, turning and twisting or gasping for a breath of air, when the only way to get relief was to soak the bed sheets in the bathtub and sleep between them. Gone, also, are ovenlike hotel rooms and apartments. Gone, that is, where air conditioning is installed.
Climate control is making some sweeping changes. A new kind of housewife, husband and family life is emerging as a result of its influence. The new look about the average air-conditioned man of affairs is that he awakes after an untroubled night in his air-conditioned bedroom, has breakfast in an airconditioned nook, rides to work in an air-conditioned automobile, breezes through his daily routine in an airconditioned office, eats lunch in an air-conditioned restaurant, and
at the close of the day happily returns to his air-conditioned apartment. His whole life is immune to weather. The throbbing thermometer does not affect him in the least.
His wife’s life, too, has come in for some pleasant changes. She now shops in an air-conditioned store or supermarket, cooks in an air-conditioned kitchen and entertains in an air-conditioned parlor. The children are sent to air-conditioned schools. For recreation and entertainment the family attends air-conditioned museums, concert halls and sports arenas. An owner of a cooling system said; “We used to go to the mountains or the beaches on hot weekends. Now we find it more fun to stay at home and read, listen to the radio or watch television, than to join the congested rush to the beaches or mountains.” Another owner said: “My wife and I used to vacation during the summer. Now we spend that time at home and go places during the winter." The change in children is such that one housewife voiced alarm, saying that “a generation of youngsters who don't know what it is like to play outdoors is growing up."
A Taste of Air Conditioning
What is it like to live in an air-conditioned home? Owners say: “It’s heaven on earth, especially during hot sultry days." Surveys report wives as saying that air-conditioned husbands are less grouchy; children, less irritable and neighbors are happier and easier to get along with. “I think we live better, feel better, work better, sleep better,” said a housewife. “When temperature and humidity go sky high, we simply move into an air-conditioned room which offers some relief." Cooking is certainly a greater joy when you are cool. Air conditioning, also, filters the air clean of all cooking and foreign odors and elements that tend to contaminate walls, furniture and draperies. It fills the room with a constant, gentle flow of pure air, which not only contributes to better personal health and life, but adds to the life of upholstery, draperies and furniture. Daily, air conditioners remove gallons of moisture from the air, which helps prevent rust and mildew throughout the house. Basement and attic space once abandoned because of being either too hot or too damp is now made livable with air conditioning.
Housewives laud automatic climate control as a timesaver. Since windows and doors are kept closed, even in midsummer, the house is much easier to keep dean. A good deal of the drudgery of dusting, vacuuming and mopping is eliminated. Neighborhood noises are locked out, making it much quieter inside. Some housewives are so pleased with the cooled atmosphere that they are encouraged to do their “fall” deaning in the summer. However, not all of them feel that way. One said: “I tackle nothing in the summer. I just sit and vegetate!" Perhaps the cooling system finds its most appreciative soul in the one who heretofore had the hectic job of trying to sleep through the sweltering heat of the day—the nightshift worker. In him air conditioning has found an ardent supporter.
On the credit side of the ledger also are medical reports that picture air conditioning as an important weapon in the fight against allergies, heart diseases and hay fever. Elimination of drafts removes a frequent cause of colds and coughs. Removal of pollen from the air gives hay fever and asthma sufferers immediate relief. Tests show that people are less tired, more energetic, have greater efficiency and drive as a result of controlled climate.
Attendance statistics are unanimous that air conditioning has increased audiences at juke joints, beer parlors, liquor stores and churches. Industries have found
that air conaitionmg has reduced fatalities and absenteeism and that it has also increased efficiency and production. Some labor unions in the southern part of the United States now demand air conditioning for their members. In the cities of Houston, Texas, and Reno, Nevada, convicts loll around in air-conditioned cells while citizens in the area swelter in the summer's heat.
Down on the farm the country gentleman is learning that a cooled greenhouse actually doubles plant output at just a slight increase in cost. Chicken farmers deciare that air-conditioned hen houses keep hens laying on the job. Other scientific tests make plain that beef cattle, hogs and hens all do better in air-conditioned surroundings.
Military-wise, air conditioning already runs the gamut from submarines to supersonic planes. Navy chief J, M. Wright calls air conditioning “the life blood of submarines.” In supersonic aircraft, air conditioning is critically important. Science Netos Letter of June 12, 1954, states that the air-conditioning unit “in the Navy’s F4D skyray jet fighter is powerful enough to turn out 176,000 ice cubes a day. One air conditioning device is about the size of a pilot’s hand. It weighs five pounds and has a cooling capacity equal to 45 home refrigerators. The cooling equipment in the Air Force’s B-47 jet bomber is large enough to handle five five-room houses.” The United Nations Secretariat Building has an air-conditioning system of 4,000 units, which permits individual control of temperature in each room “within a 12" variation.” In contrast with the Secretariat Building and Lever Brothers, both built along glass lines, is the Sackowitz Brothers store in Houston, Texas, almost completely windowless, also a triumph for air conditioning. Gold mines in South Africa, more than a mile deep, and deep copper mines near Butte, Montana, are workable only because of air conditioning.
Popularity and Predictions
The spectacular growth in sales alone is proof conclusive of air conditioning’s usefulness and popularity. Despite its inauspicious birth, the industry has emerged today into a multibillion-dollar business that encompasses almost everything made. Room conditioners and residential systems, commercial and industrial installations’ demands are so great that air conditioning’s future appears bright for some time to come. The brightest news for homeowners and apartment house dwellers is that almost two million units have been installed in American homes in less than two years. This has lowered the price range and has brought it in reach of the average man.
In the next five years, Cloud Wampler, president of Carrier Corporation, predicts: “Every first-class and most second-class hotels will be air conditioned. Every operating room and every delivery room in every hospital will be air conditioned. Church air conditioning will be a must in the South and relatively common in the North. Practically all railway passenger cars, including coaches for suburban services, will be air conditioned. Almost every bus will be air conditioned. Twenty-five per cent or more of all new automobiles will be sold with air-conditioning equipment installed. The air conditioning of factories will be as common as the air conditioning of office buildings is today. More than half of all new homes will be air conditioned.”
So it appears that air conditioning not only has proved itself a useful item but is here tp stay.
gw HIS is a noisy planet. Much of the din is not necessary. It takes courage, though, to do something about it. Few people demand quietness, because they feel that little can be done about it. But much can be done. Much is being done, especially in regard to auto horns.
Auto horns are one of the biggest sources of unnecessary noise. Some drivers blow their horns in futile protest against traffic tie-ups, others merely fqr signaling to friends; and some exult in the sense of power that they get from heavy honking. All of this adds considerably to an unnecessary din. Can it be eliminated? From the results of antihorn-blowing laws in London and Paris the answer is yes. Paris used to be notorious for its furious horn blowing; hardly a movie about the French capital neglected to refer to the practice. But then the prohibition against horn blowing went into effect. The law worked. Now sections of the city that used to be the noisiest are as still as the remote countryside while people sleep.
Some say that laws against horn blowing increase the risk of accidents. But figures seem to indicate otherwise. In fact, after Paris put its edict against horn blowing into effect, the police found that accidents to motorists declined about 30 percent. The pedestrians? They also benefited, with accidents to pedestrians dropping about 13 percent.
Please don't sound your Hom in New York City
MMT10 »«■ i *** ■
The improvements in London and Paris attracted some attention in America. But since Americans are said to be the noisiest people on this planet, there was some doubt about the use of antihorn-blowing laws. But New York city resolutely flexed its muscles and, last March, put into operation a law against unnecessary horn blowing. No doubt about it: the law has teeth. Fines for unnecessary toots run from $10 to $50. If this fails to impress noisy people, the law also provides jail sentences up to 30 days.
Visiting motorists to New York are not kept ignorant of the city’s desire for less din; the motorists are greeted by a poster placed at each bridge and tunnel toll booth that requests of drivers: “Please don’t sound your horn in New York city.” In addition, cards are handed out to motorists reminding them what a big dent in the pocketbook one toot can make.
One of the first motorists to get ticketed under New York’s law protested to the patrolman: “No, no, there was a pedestrian standing in front of my car, gaping up at a building. I just tooted once to warn him.” The patrolman thought the toot was unnecessary, and the ticket was written.
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