Monday, Apr. 23, 1956
Five Who Left
On a cold and rainswept day last week, five young Russian refugee sailors were hustled into New York International Air port by a squad of 20 Russian agents and put aboard a plane for Moscow. In their incomplete and faltering English, the refugees assured U.S. immigration officials that they were returning to Communism "voluntarily." For waiting U.S. welfare workers, who had given them a start in a new country, the young Russians had no words to explain their redefection. "There was not a glimmer of recognition," one of the welfare workers said. "One of them turned to look at us, and then all the guards turned to stare at us. After that, they never looked in our direction. We. could hardly believe it when we saw the boys going up the ramp to the plane."
Love of Planning. The Russians first defected from Communism when their ship, the oil tanker Tuapse, was seized by the Chinese Nationalists in the Formosa Strait about 20 months ago. No fewer than 20 of the Tuapse's, 49-man crew took political asylum in Formosa, and nine moved on last fall to New York
City. Church World Service met the sailors, gave them American clothing, medical care and spending money, arranged for them to get factory jobs, meet other Russian refugees, attend English-language studies at Columbia University, as they chose. Three of the Russians lived at the university's International House, where they talked about hard work and buying U.S. cars, dated American girls and impressed new-found friends by their delight in "planning things." "They had attacks of homesickness," said Dr. William Cullen Bryant,* their instructor at Columbia, "but then many students do."
In midwinter the young Russians were tracked down in Manhattan by the Communist secret police. The Communists pleaded, threatened and produced phony letters from home. "This letter was supposed to be from my mother." one of the Russians remarked scornfully, "but she can't write." Watchful U.S. agents felt sure that all the Russians would hold out, reported one sailor's remark about the current destalinization campaign: "Siberia is still Siberia." But days later that sailor and four of his comrades were gone; four stayed on in the U.S. in seclusion, but the U.S. knew that at least one of them was under continuing Communist pressure.
Freedom to Go. "Technically the Immigration Service was not wrong to let the sailors depart," said the International Rescue Committee's Angier Biddle Duke, "but humanly this handling was a mess." Welfare workers thought that Immigration should have stalled the Russian de parture on a pretext, e.g., the Russians had not made out income tax returns, so that the U.S. could find out whether they were victims of coercion. Immigration replied that freedom for an alien to go home is one of the freedoms of the U.S., and that the Russians had not complained of coercion.
While angry words reverberated through the tense refugee communities, IRC commissioned one of its directors, Major General William ("Wild Bill") Donovan, to gather a new committee and investigate the growing problem of redefection (TIME, April 9). One good starting question: How can five Russian sailors be bulldozed by Russian agents in the middle of the largest city of the U.S.?
*Whose great-grandfather was first cousin to Poet William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878) of Thanatopsis fame.
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