Re: Mark Aidan Jones

[S Chatterjee <schatterjee2001@xxxxxxxxx>]

Comrade Mark Jones had elements of great profoundness, vision,
intellectual rigour and discipline, and literary power that somehow could
capture the entire movement of a particular historical epoch in
brilliantly descriptive and evocative language. Such a ?whole? as opposed
to ?fragmented? human being can only be produced by the true heirs of a
great civilization like that of ?Old Europe? which can draw inspiration
from all of the rich streams of our world. [In complete opposition to all
forms of national chauvinism, false ?patriotism? (which teaches racial and
cultural hatred of others), superiority complexes, all of which ultimately
spring from an alienated (fragmented) worldview which is the bane of
humanity today.]

An example of the above qualities can be found in his ?The War Diary of
Fomin Yakov? which magnanimously and in great detail captures the events
in the border town of Brest in June 1941 where a group of defenders,
against all odds, fought till the very end to slow the advance of the
mighty German army of Guderian into Russia, and thus ultimately influence
the history of the 20th century. This description is a brilliant testament
to the spirit of Man and Woman, which is eternal, but which seeks its
confirmation in every age. His death is a great loss to the working class,
especially to its intellectual strata.

In 1941, the eightieth year of his life, Rabindranath Tagore, while
condemning the effects of British rule on India, wrote the following lines
in an essay titled ?Crisis in Civilization?:

?And yet it has been my privilege to come in contact with big-hearted
Englishmen of surpassing goodness, and it is on account of them that I
have not lost faith in the people to whom they belonged. There was
Andrews, for instance; in him I had for a very close friend an Englishman,
a real Christian and a gentleman. Today, in death?s perspective, his
complete selflessness and brave magnanimity is all the more luminous. We
in India are indebted to Andrews for many acts of love and devotion. But
speaking from a personal angle, I am especially grateful to him for this
reason: he helped me to regain in my old age some of that sincere respect
for the British people which I had acquired in my youth under the power of
their literature. The memory of Andrews perpetuates for me the nobility in
the British heart. I have counted men like him as my most intimate friends
and they are friends of all humanity. To have known such men was for me an
enrichment of my life. It is they who will save British honour from
shipwreck. At any rate, if I had not seen them and known them, my
disillusionment about the peoples of the West would have gone
unchallenged.?

[Mark was from Wales but it does not really matter. Wales brings to mind
Richard Llewelyn?s ?How Green was my Valley? a novel about the coal mining
age - full of terror, beauty and pathos.]

Finally, some immortal lines from the Bhagvad Gita:

?The light that lives in the sun,
Lighting all the world,
The light of the moon,
The light that is in fire:
Know that light to be mine.

My energy enters the earth,
Sustaining all that lives:
I become the moon,
Giver of water and sap,
To feed the plants and the trees.

Flame of life in all,
I consume the many foods,
Turning them into strength
That upholds the body.

I am in all hearts,
I give and take away
Knowledge and memory:
I am all that the Vedas tell,
I am the teacher,
The knower of Vedanta.?

So adieu comrade Mark; you will live forever in the hearts of the poor,
the dispossessed, and the exploited of our earth.








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