I interpose at this point that those so recent enemies the Arabs and Jews were inseparable, and took every opportunity of reminding us of their common origin, their similar religions, the compatibility of their cultures, and - so they intend - their common and harmonious future.
The "Trial" then dealt with: the white man in Australia, the white man in New Zealand, the white man in Canada, the white man in the Antarctic.
You will note that I have scarcely mentioned the Russians. One reason is that there were no Russian delegates, though there were from the Russian colonies Poland, Bulgaria, Hungary, Czechoslovakia, Roumania, Cuba, Afghanistan, parts of the Middle East.
By then, delegates were following each other every ten minutes, and they were in lines stretching up the aisles and waiting to recite, or to shout, their indictments, and to return to their places.
We have now reached halfway through the "Trial" - the fifteenth day. Rereading the agents' reports, what is striking is the note of frustration - annoyance. You will bear in mind that our agents are all active members of their representative organisations, not dissidents or oddballs. They act for us mostly without payment, and as a token of appreciation for our Beneficent Rule. They are emotionally part of the Youth Armies, and their value is that they share with, and cannot help but register, the prevailing common mood or moods.
I again have to ask, What was it that all these young people were expecting and that they were not given? For on the face of it, they were getting exactly what they had come for.
I quote Tsi Kwang: "There is an incorrect spirit. The cadres are not overcoming the difficulties of the situation. There is vacillation and also many mistakes. There is an insufficient readiness to boldly grasp the bourgeois distortions that cannot help but negate the true experience of the sincere Youth." And so on for several pages.
All our agents, during those days, turned in similar reports.
The egregious Benjamin Sherban: "The centre cannot hold, mere anarchy is loosed upon the world." I am told that these are lines from an ancient folk ballad. (I would like to hear the rest of it, for there may be guidance there in present difficulties.)
It is clear that the delegates were at breaking point and it was only because of the flexibility and tolerance of the organisers that the "Trial" could continue at all. For one thing, alcohol was now entering the camp and affecting discipline. For another, sex, previously discreet and within the limits of good sense, was now blatant, not only between delegates, but between them and the locals.
The prevailing mood was one of restlessness, dissatisfaction, a continual movement around the camp, from tent to improvised shelter to mess tents, where debates and "seminars" seemed continuously in progress, and from the camp to the shores - and by now some donkeys had been pressed into service, and derelict army trucks had been located and put into use (petrol being commandeered of course) and parties of delegates moved up and down the coasts entering towns and villages to try and organise food, and individuals wandered about as well, for as usual on these highly pressured occasions, there are always those who seem to spin off, as if from a centrifuge. These broke down, or threatened to, wept, complained of being underrated, discussed the possibilities of suicide, and fell hopelessly in love with delegates whom they certainly will never see again.
All this did not mean the sessions were not fully attended. The amphitheatre was crammed, attentive, centred on the events in the arena, from four until eight, and from five until midnight. But now they were less silent, intervened often in the "indictments," adding comments and facts and figures. There was total participation between audience and - I was going to say - actors.
There seemed no reason why the supply of witnesses should ever end, but already it was being asked when the old white, who was sitting there hour after hour, day after day, silent, on his chair, was "going to defend himself." But meanwhile, of course, he had been continuously in conversation with everyone interested - and this by now was everyone - whether hostile or not, during the hours of leisure, if that is a word that may be used for such a frenzy of restlessness. In short, he was not being thought of as enemy, and the epithets (correctly of course) used of him by our informants seemed to me to lack the fervour they had had at the beginning.
It was being openly said that the "Trial" could not run its course of a full month, for conditions were becoming impossible.
It was at this point that something new happened. Aircraft appeared, evidently keeping watch. The first was on the night of the full moon: a helicopter hovered over the amphitheatre for some minutes, and proceedings had to be stopped until it decided to go. This attentive, unmarked machine made its effect: our agents report fury, exasperation, a pent-up rage - if the machine had been within reach it would not have survived. There were "jokes" about surveillance from the Russians. Also by us. (I report, merely, without comment.) On the next night, a different craft appeared, also unmarked, and remained over the amphitheatre until its point had been made. Again the reaction was fury. An almost hysterical rage. Do you think it is possible that in some quarters it is not appreciated what horror and loathing are felt by many for the products of our human ingenuity and technological progress? Various and different craft kept appearing in the skies at all hours of the day and night from then on, some very low, some so high as to be almost invisible, most unknown to the - very expert - youngsters watching them. "Jokes" were made about spacemen, flying saucers, international police forces, flying squads of vigilantes, guided spy satellites.
And the imminent war became suddenly the chief topic. If this was what the surveillant craft wished to achieve, they succeeded.
Now the moon was past its full, appearing later each evening, the torches were again exerting their strong emotional effect on everyone.
Abruptly, on the ninth night, George Sherban, who had said practically nothing at all during the actual sessions, came forward to remark, and in a casual way - which annoyed some of our agents - "that it seemed to him time that the prosecution rested its case." This had not been expected, or at least, not then. But no sooner had he said it, than at once it was felt by everyone that he was right, for what could be added to the indictment they had already heard!
They had, however, been expecting a summing up, but all he said was: "I rest my case, and call upon John Brent-Oxford to speak."
At first there was a strong reaction. But it changed from disappointment to approval, and the young people were saying to each other that this was a correct, if daring approach.
The silence was absolute. The old white did not stand up. No one expected it: all knew his health was poor. Sitting in his chair, from which he had not moved for all those sessions, he said, clearly, but with no effort to be heard:
"I plead guilty to everything that has been said. How can I do anything else?"
Silence again.
He did not say anything more. Muttering began, angry laughter, then a stirring, and indignation.
This tension was broken by some young man calling out in the jeering but good-humoured way which was, it is clear, very much the note or style of the "Trial": "Well, what are we going to do? Lynch him?"
Laughter. Some of our agents report that they did not find the moment amusing. There was lacking, claimed Tsi Kwang, a proper respect for "the healthy verdicts of history."
There was also considerable confusion, and a good deal of anger.