The Thoughts of MAO and the Ghost of LENIN …

Category:  Historical Reprints.
SourceStraight Talk! The Official Bulletin Of The Edmund Burke Society.
Editor:  F. Paul Fromm
Associate Editor:  Kastus Akula
Writers:  E.B.S. members and friends
Directors:  The Council of the E.B.S.
Volume III Number 7, April 1971

The Edmund Burke Society is a movement dedicated to preserving and promoting the basic virtues of Western Christian Civilization — individual freedom; individual responsibility; a self-sacrificing love of country; and a willing­ness to work and pay one’s own way and not be a burden on others.  These virtues have made our civilization great.  Communism, socialism, and welfare-state liberalism are tearing it apart.  The Edmund Burke Society stands for a regeneration of Western Civilization and firm action against all its enemies.

The E.B.S. is financed mainly through small donations from generous Canadians.  Straight Talk!  is produced by voluntary labour.


 

Foreword

 
This article from 1971 offers an example of the leftist-revolutionary style violence adopted by the supposedly conservative Edmund Burke Society (E.B.S.)  Paul Fromm publicly denounced this kind of activity on the part of others, in particular when it was used to silence his own free speech.  But he himself used it to silence others.  The contradiction was noted more than once in the pages of the Toronto Varsity student newspaper of the era.  However, then as now, F. Paul Fromm was an advocate of his own “free speech,” and the “free speech” of anyone who agrees with him; but not “free speech” as a principle, to which he paid, and still pays, mere lip-service for the sake of appearances.

In 1987, leftist bigot Stanley R. Barrett published a book on the so-called “right wing” in Canada (Is God A Racist?) where at pages 70-71 he had no choice but to admit he had found documentary evidence the EBS had been set up in February of 1967 as a national security and police front by the RCMP and other less well known Canadian federal security agencies.  Sadly, those agencies all report to the Prime Minister, and to the Justice Minister, who in the days of the EBS were Soviet agent Lester Bowles Pearson and Red Mole Pierre Elliott Trudeau.  Thus, the “conservative” right in Canada, with its violent Red tactics, was a Communist front, not a right-wing grassroots movement.

Barrett doesn’t mention Pearson; I myself have situated the event on the timeline using federal Hansard from October of 1977 in a retrospective on the EBS era.

In addition, the EBS was peppered from within by “infiltrated” members of a “red squad” (civilian police agents recruited on campus by a “kingpin” trained in “anti-subversion” by the CIA.  In fact, Paul Fromm himself would be such an agent).

The activities of the Edmund Burke Society therefore cannot be assessed as those of a conservative group.  Nor of a genuine anticommunist group.  They must be viewed as the activities of a police front set up by the Communist left that had penetrated the federal government of Canada.  [Admin.]
 

The Thoughts of MAO
and the Ghost of LENIN …

Notes on the Battle of Convocation Hall

At 1.45 p.m., on Sunday March 28th, I arrived at Convocation Hall … I was immediately surrounded by various characters selling Communist literature, e.g.,

MASS LINE, a Maoist rag (headlined, THE RISING REVOLUTIONARY INITIATIVE 0F THE PEOPLE WILL CERTAINLY SMASH THE BLUSTER OF THE ANGLO-CANADIAN REACTIONARIES);

PEOPLE’S CANADA DAILY NEWS, another Maoist organ, headlined HAIL THE FORMATION OF THE QUEBEC WORKERS’ MOVEMENT!  HAIL PEOPLE’S REPUBLIC OF CHINA, THE GREAT RED BASTION OF THE WORLD!;

The WORKER, another red paper screaming in large red type, GET ORGANIZED FOR NATIONAL WAR AGAINST U.S. IMPERIALISM!  DEFEAT THE REACTIONARY CIVIL WAR OF THE CANADIAN COMRADORS TO SUPPRESS THE LIBERATION STRUGGLE OF QUEBEC!  HAIL THE USHERING IN 0F THE SECOND YEAR OF THE GREAT 1970’S!

(One can see that the RCMP are going to be very busy with this lot in the future, especially when the Chinese Communists open their, you should pardon the expression, “embassy”).  It’s all very confusing, so I will let the mounties figure it out.  There must be a number of Maoists who are also confused … A peculiar looking female (I think it was a female) was hawking THE YOUNG SOCIALIST, a Trotskyite enlightenment for the ignorant masses (you and me, stupid) … I must say she was the happiest of the group … O, yes, the headline posed a question:  WHAT MAKES UNCLE SAMMY RUN?  Do you know the answer?  If you do, ‘phone the Young Socialists …  The other “Young Socialist” leaflet warned us of THE COMING CANADIAN REVOLUTION.  I thought that was rather decent of them, to warn us like that.  It will give us a chance at the best choice of the war surplus Lee-Enfields …  I almost forgot the LABOUR CHALLENGE!  This rather less flashy paper is published by a rival Socialist group.  Its sales were slower, but I have confidence … in their sales staff; all they need is a little encouragement.  Their banners lack the flair of the Maoists, but they are working hard:  ENGLISH CANADA WARMS TO QUEBEC CAUSE!  HOW U.S. INVESTMENT ROBS CANADIAN WORKERS!  LAOS WAR FIASCO FOR U.S.!  OTTAWA STALLS ACTION ON WOMENS’ RIGHTS!  Between you and me, I think they are cribbing from the TORONTO DAILY (RED) STAR …

Once inside tho door, they really got me; I was completely swamped with leaflets.  I was told to keep my hands off South-East Asia, withdraw my troops NOW, and end Canada’s complicity, to free all political prisoners, repeal the Public Order Act, donate a buck to the cause, sign up to cut sugarcane in Cuba, join the Just Society, give the draft dodgers my job and best suit, donate a buck, grant amnesty to prisoners being held in Québec, Portugal, Greece, Spain, South Africa, Britain, South Korea, South Viet Nam, Newfoundland and Anticosti Island, donate a buck, and to get my ass out of Laos and Cambodia, and, of course, Viet Nam, and to donate another buck (some advice; bring a lot of change — you will need it!) … They didn’t like it much when I said I would catch them on the way out … You know, this always seems to work, though …

Once inside the Hall, the first thing one must do is to try to sit away from the action … for instance, up high … I chose a row high up in the balcony where one can see the fights without too much trouble …  It’s much like the hockey games at the Gardens — the only thing missing is the Shopsy hotdogs (they smoke grass instead) … The crowd is a pretty mixed kettle of fish:  little old ladies wearing old fox furs over their shoulders (they’re usually good for five bucks at the gate), self-styled revolutionaries, all looking like the master himself, Che Guevara, the young intellectual carefully going over the propaganda papers he paid full price for, nodding in agreement to every golden word (I rarely pay the full price, you pull out a nickel and tell them that’s all you have, they look at you with understanding and say, “That’s all right, Comrade, that lackey Trudeau and his capitalists are robbing me too!” …  I keep telling you, they’re so dedicated!), young girls who wear little red armbands, Maoists, waiting for the action to begin, and the “college professor” types, who always seen to be rummaging around in their briefcases, and continually looking around for the other side (the Mounties) …

I overheard one conversation in which the “pro” demonstrator was advising a rooky:  “Be careful what you say, you may be talking to the Mounties!” … You know, he’s right.  They’re all over the joint, snapping pictures, giving signals … They announced the attendance as being 1000; they should change it to 500, with 500 Mounties.  They are a conspicuous lot.  First of all, they all have short hair, wear blue suits with brown shoes, 1958-style narrow ties, blue-and-beige reversible raincoats, and they all walk around with their hands in their pockets …  The local police are just as clever …  This is what the well-dressed plainclothesman wears (now get this):  desert boots or P.F. runners, corduroy pants, short hair, and club jackets announcing to the world that they won the basketball bantam championship in 1958, or the 1965 Police Games Tug-of-War contest, Lightweight Division (for Protestants only) …  The cops are trying hard.  I grant them that; all they need is guidance …

The next group are the heavies, or the “Marshalls”, as they are called.  They are supposed to bounce anyone who protests during the propaganda speeches.  Some of them weigh only 100 lbs., even after reading the thoughts of MAO and smoking a joint.  Oh, well, there’s safety in numbers.  Some are genuine heavies:  fat, bearded, smelly, with red armbands …

After everyone is seated, the Master of Ceremonies comes to the podium and introduces himself as the presidential co-co-ordinator of the sponsoring central committee of the general presidium of the local Communist Party sponsoring the FLQ meeting here today.  When he has finished glorifying himself with titles, he tells us the meeting will be delayed, because the star performers are delayed.  Some people boo, some cheer, some don’t give a damn one way or another, others simply light up a joint …  Outside, in the corridor, everyone is smoking and giving everyone else advice on the coming revolution …  Some of the more dedicated are buying the papers.  Me?  I’m trying to dodge the Mounties’ cameras …

“KILL THE FLQ!”

The M.C. announces the show is about to begin … The performers come on stage.  The crowd goes wild with excitement:  some shout Red slogans, some faint, some wet their pants, others raise their arms over their heads, fists clenched in the Communist salute.  It’s wild; everyone doing his thing, but no, I’m just sitting there, grinning, waiting for Act II.  After the frenzy has died down, the comrade M.C. introduces the performers:  first, Michel Chartrand, looking splendid in his decidedly un-revolutionary threads.  The mob goes nuts again (a repeat of its previous paroxysm).  Next, Robert Lemieux is called upon.  The crowd of revolutionaries and Mounties goes wild again …  I’m praying they don’t introduce anyone else, but they do, only this time the reaction is not so loud — second raters, I guess …

Chartrand approaches the lectern to speak.  The mob gets its jollies again.  He starts off by criticizing the government, tells us he and his fellow-conspirators are innocent, that Paul Rose is innocent, that Pierre Laporte deserved to be strangled because he was a lackey of the capitalist rulers of Québec.  He is now shouting, loudly, incoherently, stuttering, stammering, spitting on the poor saps in the front rows at the foot of the lectern.  A shout from the crowd interrupts his babbling:  DEATH TO THE FLQ! DEATH TO CHARTRAND!  DEATH TO THE COMMIES!  People strain to see who is shouting, where it is coming from …  Now, it’s coming from various parts of the auditorium …  Chartrand screams that if anyone wants to ask questions, he can do so at the end of the talk.  People shout, “Throw them out!”  Chartrand screams back, “No! Let them stay!  But if they interrupt again, throw them out!”  The heavies are now on the scene, and go into action:  they grab the Burkers, who continue shouting, “Kill the FLQ!  What about Laporte?”  Fights break out all over the auditorium.  People are screaming, some are just gaping, in ignorance or amazement, and the Mounties take pictures and take pictures and take pictures, as do the press photographers.  The Burkers are now overwhelmed.  They struggle for the exits, but before they leave, they bombard the auditorium with stinkbombs.  One hits the stage where Chartrand is standing, another bursts on the main floor of the auditorium.  People start screaming, coughing, trying to escape the pervasive fumes.  You can observe the advance of the gas across the auditorium floor by watching the expanding lines of coughing people …

EBS Routs Reds

The Battle at Convocation Hall 1

E.B.S. members having battled their way out of Convocation Hall, give red Marshall a spray of deodorant — or was it mace? — only the judge can say for sure.


 

Rightwing Youths

The Battle at Convocation Hall 2

In the pitch [sic] battle outside, the reds were roundly thumped.  Badly outnumbered, the battling boys of Edmund Burke
even used belts to help even the odds.

The M.C. calls for order and calm, then realizing the stupidity, calls for a fifteen minute recess.  The gas begins to reach to my area, so I head for the outside.  Downstairs is complete pandemonium; the newspapers are scattered all over the joint.  The money collector took the bread and headed for Party headquarters or elsewhere.  Everyone is coughing like crazy.  One guy yells that he can’t see.  He says he’s blinded.  Outside, the Burkers are bashing down the doors, trying to get back in; a rock comes flying through a window. The Burkers get the door open again, and spray “mace” at anyone trying to come out.  The Marshalls are now trying to get the doors closed, and after some struggling, they succeed.  They send up a rousing cheer of victory, having achieved the impossible.  Arms are raised in the clenched fist salute (they are so dramatic at times, one might swear it was all rehearsed!). The door opens again; someone lobs a chair, and fists fly.  Once more the Reds manage to get the door closed.  I ducked back into the auditorium again.  Half the place was still coughing.  One lady shouts “Why don’t they let us have our meeting?  Why can’t we keep them out?  Why don’t we do something about it?” …  All questions, but no answers from the crowd; they just cheer her pathetic plea …

I run out to the corridor again; the Marshalls have managed to get the door closed again.  “They can’t get in now”, I heard one shout.  By this time, I decided to leave.  Because of the mélée, all attention was focused on the front door, so all I had to do was walk out the side door with no problems.

When I got outside, the Burkers began to retreat from the door.  The Reds inside were thus emboldened to advance out of doors.  Those who got outside were soundly thumped by the Burkers.  More came out; the Burkers were hopelessly outnumbered, but they fought anyway.  Everyone was kicking, swearing, uttering threats — some carried out their threats.  The young girls with the Maoist armbands and the “no bra” look started to pitch in.  One kicked an adversary twice, he looked at her, and then knocked her down with a punch in the chops.  The Burkers dragged a wounded member to a waiting car.  Inside, the leftists were licking their wounds.  The fight came to an end.  The triumphant and cocky Burkers strode off, shouting slogans and waving their tiny Canadian flags.  The Maoists watched them leave, contemptuously shouting back, “Fascist pigs!  Nazi bastards!”, and similar Communist niceties …

Meanwhile, the police arrived upon the scene.  They showed little interest in the battle, but they were interested in the “mace” (you see, it’s illegal in Ontario).  they asked the university police if they had arrested anyone, and were answered, “Are you kidding?  If anyone had tried to arrest anyone, he would have been killed!”  The cop gave him the funniest look …

I decided to go into the show, but I was stopped at the door.  One of the Maoists said I was sitting with the Burkers.  I argued against this vile accusation.  After some debate, I was finally allowed back in, but on condition that I have a guard to keep an eye on me.  They must have thought I was a wheel, since they detailed two red-armbanded heavies near my seat …

Chartrand resumed his tiresome tirade, and was cheered on by his audience.  He strutted and used the audience, which cheered him even when it couldn’t make out what he was saying in his poor English.  He gave them what they wanted, and in return he received the cheers of the ignorant mob of so-called “revolutionaries”.  I decided to leave, but, before I left, I let Chartrand and the audience know how I felt.  I shouted to Chartrand that he was sick.  Naturally, I was booed as I left the Hall with my two heavies following along behind me ….

April 2nd: Repeat Performance

On Friday April 2nd I attended the local Communist rally at the Ontario College of Education.  I must say that it was quite a collection of weird-looking creatures.  The Left in Canada has always had a voice and a cause, but they have failed to make any significant gains at the polls.  They have failed to attract the working masses, simply because the man-on-the-street has other things on his mind, rather than lunatic left-wing causes.

I have been to many of these rallies over the years, but I think this one was the most pathetic of them all.  They seem to be looking for “causes”.  The Viet Nam issue cannot excite the individual citizen as it once might have.  People know the Communists are the aggressors in this conflict.  The latest Communist bag is to support pro-Black causes, like the Angela Davis case.  A sufficient amount of Black Communist literature was handed out but it seemed to be all imported from the US, and its sole purpose was to collect funds for their cause in the US.  Very few blacks were in the audience, even with two leading black speakers.  One only has to ask oneself, “How strong is black power in Canada?”  Well, I’m afraid Rocky Jones is not very strong.  Especially when white faces make up the majority of the audience at a Black Power meeting.

* * * * * *

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