by Claude McKay
“Yes,” said Mr. Ming, “the Comintern is cooperating with the Left wing of the Kuomintang in an effort to bring the entire party and all of China into the Popular Front.”
“Please excuse me for being so stupidly ignorant,” said Seraphine, “but what is the Comintern?”
“It is the Communist International, my dear,” said Mrs. Witern. “That is all the Communist parties in the world that are sections of the Russian Communist Party.”
“Excuse me, please,” said Mr. Ming, “but that is not technically correct. The Russian Communist Party is also a section of the Comintern. The Comintern or Communist International consists of all the Communist parties of the world that are recognised by the Executive Committee of the Comintern, which has its headquarters in Moscow. And the Executive Committee is composed of delegates from the various international parties.”
“Thank you,” said Seraphine, “although I still find it kind of complicated.”
“You’ll soon get on to it,” said Mrs. Hobison, then speaking generally. “Now that Soviet Russia is collaborating with the democratic nations in mutual collective security, it is important that we should know the precise meaning of all those abbreviated words and algebraic letters which the Bolsheviks have loosed upon the poor world. I must confess that they appear to me sometimes like a pernicious epidemic.”
“We are getting quite as bad ourselves in imitation of the Russians,” said Claxon, “with our innumerable CCC and NLRB and FHA and AAA and TVA and NYA and FBI,3 and I’d like to know why.”
Everybody laughed and Mrs. Hobison said: “I suppose we’ll have to learn them as we did our ABCs. This vast multiplying of abbreviations may have greater significance than we imagine. In Russia they sprung up after the Revolution. Who knows but that with us they may be the signs and portents of social revolution.”
“There are more real signs and portents in what is taking place in Africa now,” said Mr. Witern. “Mussolini has started the conflagration in Africa, but no one knows how far it may spread.”
“Yes, the war in Ethiopia is an extremely dangerous adventure,” agreed Montague Claxon. “I am publishing an interview with Lij Alamaya in the next issue of the Interlink—”
“Oh, I invited him to dinner too,” said Mrs. Witern, “but he had a previous engagement.”
Seraphine and Bunchetta winked at each other.
“I met him with Mr. Tasan at the office of the Interlink,” said Mrs. Hobison. “A charming young person and very seriously concerned about the fate of his country. The Fascist attack upon Ethiopia is outrageous.”
“And extremely dangerous,” Montague Claxon repeated, “because it is motivated by the idea of the possibility of new imperial conquests and there can be no new imperial conquests without starting another world war. Mussolini might have gained more by employing methods of economic pressure with peaceful penetration. The Fascists shout insults at the British for opposing their action in Ethiopia. They charge that the British Empire was created by ruthless imperial conquests. They refuse to realize that such conquests were accomplished in another age before the industrial revolution was consummated. Today any highly industrialized nation can exploit a backward country by peaceful penetration. The United States set an example to the great powers, when it withdrew its naval and military forces from Haiti and signed an agreement with the Filipinos eventually to withdraw from the Philippines.”4
“The withdrawal from Haiti was a masterstroke,” said Bunchetta Facey. “We Aframericans were almost as jubilant as the Haitians. Because it filled us with hope that even as this country could excel in diplomacy and treat Haiti justly as a member of the family of nations, so likewise it might someday seriously apply itself to solve the problem of our people as citizens and members of the family of humanity.”
Said Mrs. Hobison: “That was beautifully said, Miss Facey, and I wish that I had spoken it. If you develop the idea into a short article, we may feature it in the Interlink. Don’t you think, Mr. Claxon?”
“It would be splendid,” said Mr. Claxon, “if she will write it just as she said it.”
“I’ll do my best,” said Bunchetta, “although my writing machinery has gone quite rusty.” She was one of the promising talents of the Harlem literati, when they enjoyed a vogue in the 1920s. She had ideas about writing a sociological novel of Aframerican life and was encouraged by other writing people, but the job was never begun.
“I may be talking too much like a one hundred percent American,” said Claxon, who had the appearance of a refined and shrewd type of Yankee salesman, “but I can’t imagine any social problem too big for this nation to tackle and solve if it sets its mind to it. We are in the most enviable position of any nation and we can be the teacher of the world. We have the greatest natural resources and the finest industrial and technical equipment. We hold no colonies against their will and we’re a young and vigorous and idealistic people.”
The butler cleared the table of the dishes and served a fruit cup.
“Russia is the only nation that may be compared with us,” said Mrs. Witern. “She hasn’t reached our industrial standard, but she has the natural resources and no colonies. I believe that the hope and the future of the world lie in the United States and Russia working together. We can export our industrial technique to Russia and the people will understand our ideals, for they are being transformed with a fresh challenging outlook on social problems.”
“And now that the Soviet had declared itself forthrightly for the democratic idea of world organization,” said Montague Claxon, “both nations can work faithfully together for the ideal of Collective Security.”5
“The Popular Front is the evangel of Collective Security,” said Mrs. Witern, “and we must honor the genius of the Soviets for its invention. It has injected new life into the moribund League of Nations. Only Russia and America working closely together can defeat the abominable Nazi power and its barbaric pagan and ante-Christian conception of race and nation.”
“You should include the British Empire,” said Claxon, “for only Collective Security can save the British Empire from eventual collapse.”
“The colonies of the Empire are a mill-stone around the neck of the British,” said Mrs. Witern. “The British Empire is the greatest political anachronism of the industrial age. It is like a vast unending forest full of dry brittle brushwood in the path of the Nazi fire.”
“Russia . . . Russia . . .” said Mr. Witern, speaking slowly with painful difficulty and shaking like a leaf. “Czarist Russia was an abomination, corrupting the body of the civilized nations. But Communist Russia was a menace to Civilization. But now that the Soviets have entered the League of Nations to work side by side with the democratic powers, perhaps our civilization will get a new lease of life. I believe in the Popular Front and Collective Security . . . anything that can save the world from Fascist vengeance, because I believe in humanity.”
Mrs. Witern beamed and leaned over to stroke her husband’s hand. But the effort to speak was so taxing, his head dropped as if he were falling asleep. Mrs. Witern rose and motioned the guests to the sitting room. Then tenderly she helped Mr. Witern to his feet and led him from the room.
By the time she returned to her guests the butler had already served them wine and other liquors, and warmed up by the spirits they animatedly continued the discussion.
16
A PRINCESS OF ETHIOPIA
The Hands to Ethiopia was reorganized with Dorsey Flagg elected chairman and secretary and the Rev. Zebulon Trawl treasurer. Newton Castle was unable to rally a group to support him. He was definitely shelved. But in Harlem and among the various branches throughout the country, the high enthusiasm which had perceptibly subsided could not be revived. And the war news from Ethiopia did not contribute to inspire confidence and bolster morale.
In spite of strenuous efforts by the newspapers to make the news favorable, the man-i
n-the-street in Harlem was aware that the Fascists were striking with moral thrusts at the last of the native empires of Africa. The big Aframerican weeklies excelled in clever devices to brace the courage and enthusiasm of their readers. Improving upon photographs of brave Ethiopian soldiers, they doctored them so that readers could not detect the unshod feet under the trim uniforms. The mild-looking Emperor Haile Selassie was pictured in his most martial pomp and shown at the front operating an anti-airplane gun. But Aframericans knew that there were few such guns in Ethiopia and that equestrian Ethiop officers with swords and battle-axes astride noble mules could not match their equipment against gas, airplanes and tanks.
Most undermining to Aframerican morale was the sudden return to the States of the jaunty and irrepressibly adventurous Aframerican Colonel Hubert Fauntleroy Julian, a onetime favorite of Emperor Haile Selassie. Colonel Julian made statements which conveyed the impression that the Ethiopians were already licked and blamed Haile Selassie for not coming to terms with Mussolini. He was damned as a defeatist and Fascist spy and so enraged the militant-minded Aframericans that they even suggested employing the exclusive Nordic exercise of lynching against him. But his views were widely publicized and inwardly the Aframericans were dismayed, for they knew that the picaresque Colonel Hubert Fauntleroy Julian was not the type that would desert a good ship, if it were not in danger of sinking.
However, an unanticipated occurrence uplifted the flagging spirits of the Aframericans. It was the exciting news of the arrival of a Princess of Ethiopia. Her picture adorned the metropolitan publications, an arresting marvel of jet radiance whose lovely features were heightened by a gorgeously filigreed gown and antique jewels ornamenting her neck and arms. The Aframerican weeklies whipped up the item with banner headlines of primary colors.
The Princess Benebe Zarihana was heralded as a messenger of hope and faith from Ethiopia. She also was an amateur pantomimist who had graciously condescended to give a few special performances for the benefit of Ethiopia. Princess Benebe Zarihana was identified as a direct descendant of Falasha (Black Jewish) Queen Judith, who ascended the throne of Ethiopia in the year 937 and reigned for forty years. She had arrived under the sponsorship of the Friends of Ethiopia. Unlike the coming of Lij Alamaya, Harlem had no part in the glory of welcoming the princess. Her sponsors may have agreed that that was the best way of avoiding misunderstanding and exciting the jealousy of rival groups.
Most of the upper strata of Harlemites were partial to the way in which the visit of the Princess Benebe was handled. The fiasco of Lij Alamaya’s spectacular debut in Harlem was fresh and irritating to their thoughts. They considered it more appropriate to the dignity of Ethiopia as a nation that the princess should be launched from downtown. Downtown was the seat of wealth and power. Harlem had little to offer besides excitement. Harlemites who desired to see her could go downtown as they usually did to see any celebrated Aframerican star resplendent in an Aryan setting.
Lela Witern, Abigail Hobison and Professor Banner Makepeace were chief among the sponsors of Princess Benebe. Her first appearance at the City Casino was a successful affair socially and financially. Lij Alamaya was her interpreter, as Princess Benebe did not speak English. Arrayed in striking rich costumes, the princess executed the following striking series of tableaux of the women of Ethiopia:
A queen of Ethiopia in coronation robes
Ethiopian woman in a bazaar
Ethiopian woman in negligee
Ethiopian noblewoman in her boudoir
Ethiopian woman after the visit of the hairdresser
Ethiopian woman in bridal costume
Ethiopian bride reclining in her tent
Ethiopian equestrienne
Ethiopian woman arrayed for the battlefront
Ethiopian mother and child
At the end of the pantomime Princess Benebe sang a plaintive Ethiopian song. Her voice was not great, but it was pleasingly rarely modulated and effective. It might have made its mark in a small concert room.
The distinguished audience threw off its dignity in generous applause of the Falasha Princess of Ethiopia. By its attitude one could gauge the degree of sympathy for the beleaguered Ethiopian nation. There were present important personages in social, professional and political life. Their presence there was as much of a protest against ruthless aggression as it was an appreciation of an unusual talent among an obscure African people. Princess Benebe was just as fortunate in the impression she registered among the representatives of the Fourth Estate. The reviews of her tableaux were favorable, but it was particularly her personality that fetched the critics. The emphasis was on her poise and aplomb, her gait and charm and composite magnetism. One enthusiast marveled at the nobility inherent in her consummate African dignity, the indefinable artistry manifested in every shade of her movement. Another declared that she combined the classic grandeur of Duse with the wild wonder of the original appearance of Josephine Baker.1
But none of the notices equaled the Labor Herald’s in spread and length and abundance of phrases. The column and a half of the mellow and authoritative Era and Forum appeared parsimonious against the full-page modernistic extravaganza of the Labor Herald. The deftly arranged poses of Princess Benebe in her gilded costumes and golden slippers and jeweled tiara whipped the eye to dance with delight. And the purple blocks of baroque passages that heralded the artistry of the Imperial pantomimist appeared as if designed to whet the appetite of blasé sophisticates rather than for the instruction of proletarian readers. The Labor Herald did not neglect to mention Lij Alamaya’s little contribution to the success of the performance. It carried his small photograph in an inset and commended him as an excellent interpreter.
Of goodly height, lissome and beautifully proportioned, despite the extravagant costumes which rarefied her performance, Princess Benebe Zarihana herself was entitled to all the praises. Her sponsors arranged for her to give special subscription performances for persons of means. Efforts were made to induce her to turn professional; one impresario made a juicy offer. But it was considered incompatible with the dignity of the Imperial House of Ethiopia that a princess should become a professional actress. Even in the extreme crisis of Ethiopia, Princess Benebe could not become a professional artiste without Imperial permission.
With the debut of Princess Benebe, the Friends of Ethiopia had held the limelight as the chief agency of aid for Ethiopia. Prudhomme Bishop, the president of the Equal Rights Action, was marshalling the elite and professional groups of Aframericans to support the Friends. Little was published about the progress of the Hands. And actually the work of the Hands was at a standstill. Dorsey Flagg was excellent as an animator on the platform, but he did not possess Peixota’s organizing ability. And the defection of Lij Alamaya to the Friends was like the pulling of the main pole out of a tent.
Seraphine was employed on the staff of the Interlink. With Bunchetta’s help she listed the important Aframerican publications to which the Society should subscribe. Her chief duties were the clipping of important pieces and pasting in the Aframerican scrapbook. Also from the Aframerican Division of the Harlem Library she obtained the names of Aframerican publications in the Caribbean area and of native publications in Africa. Seraphine liked the work and the atmosphere of it. But she had plenty to learn about modern social and international ideas and she applied herself assiduously. She learned rapidly and soon she was able to converse tolerably with her co-workers about the important topics of the times, such as the New Deal, war in Ethiopia, Nazism, Fascism and Communism and the Popular Front.
She and Bunchetta moved downtown. Not actually in Greenwich Village, they found a comfortable place on Second Avenue, below Fourteenth Street. Maxim Tasan was a frequent visitor to the Interlink offices to see his friend Montague Claxon. He was interested in the Aframerican newspapers and often glanced through them. He became better acquainted with Seraphine, ingratiatingly chatted with her about
the work, appreciated her efforts, and she considered him a nice person.
It was a surprise to Seraphine when Tasan asked her if she would like to work in the office of the Friends of Ethiopia, to fill the place that was formerly held by Gloria Kendall. Seraphine said she liked her work with the Interlink and besides, Montague Claxon was exceptionally nice to her. But Tasan assured her that he had already talked about the proposal to Claxon and the salary would be forty dollars weekly, twice the amount that Seraphine received for part-time work with the Interlink. It was good pay and Seraphine agreed to make the change, especially as Claxon was agreeable to it. At her suggestion, Claxon employed one of the Tower girls, Iris Marlow, in her place.
Seraphine zestfully devoted herself to the new job. She still nursed some resentment against Lij Alamaya, but it was cooled by the elation she felt when he was humbled to take a secondary role in the triumph of the majestic and inaccessible Princess Benebe. Once when he visited the office of the Friends, unaware that Seraphine was there, it was he who was embarrassed. And she tried to make him feel at ease, talking about trivialities as if there had never existed a sentimental attachment between them.
Tasan never mentioned Pablo Peixota nor tried to get Seraphine to talk about her parents and her attitude towards them. He was perfectly satisfied in having Peixota’s daughter working with the Friends of Ethiopia and safe in the bosom of the Popular Front. He would have listened eagerly had Seraphine wanted to tell him anything. But she had not even considered the idea of his being interested. She had never attached any social significance to the difference between the Friends of Ethiopia and the Hands to Ethiopia and when the latter was indirectly the cause of her misunderstanding with Alamaya, she was disgusted with it. Now that she was working for the Friends she was convinced that it was the superior article.
One Friday evening Tasan invited Seraphine and Bunchetta to dinner. He also had as his guest a Frenchman named Jean Danou. The Frenchman was an ardent Popular Frontist. He was an adherent of the Socialist (International) Center group in France. Up until 1933 he was militantly anti-Soviet. But like thousands of other Left Republican and Socialist Frenchmen, his social ideas underwent a profound change after the 1934 riots when Royalists and Right Republicans gave battle to the Leftists in the streets of Paris. Since then he had swung clear over to the support of the Soviets with intense Gallic ardor and Latin realism, armed with the conviction that only the Soviets in alliance with the remaining Democratic countries could stop the march of Nazism and Reaction.
