The world-wide struggle over petroleum that was carried on in the period between the first World War and the second World War occupies a significant place in the chronicle of Soviet-Western relations. Soviet oil was a prize as well as a contestant in this struggle and was deeply involved in the controversies over control of oil resources and markets that created so deep a rift in international relations in the interwar years. The facts in the case provide a striking illustration of the power of oil as a source of international friction. The quarrels which are here resurrected were composed in due time, and differences were reconciled. But the old struggle over oil has been revived in a new setting and is again contributing its share of suspicion to the troubled international scene.

The first World War and its aftermath saw a fundamental change in the world petroleum situation. Oil had emerged as a vital factor in military strategy and an eagerly sought-after fuel, demanded in ever greater quantities by a motorized world. As a result, the international oil groups redoubled their efforts to acquire control over the most promising foreign sources of production.

The massacre of the Russian Mission at Teheran in 1829 by an infuriated and fanatical mob cut short the career of one of Russia's finest dramatists and nearly plunged Persia into another war with her powerful neighbor. The circumstances of Griboedov's death, the events which led up to it, and its international repercussions are among the most strange and tragic episodes in the history of the Near East.

Aleksander Sergeevič Griboedov was born in 1795 of a prominent Moscow family. He distinguished himself at a phenomenally early age at Moscow University and took part in the 1812 campaign when only seventeen. In 1815 he retired from the army and began his career at St. Petersburg, where his first comedy, The Young Couple, was produced in the same year. Two years later he was given a post at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and from that time he was regularly employed in diplomatic work in Persia and the Caucasus. Griboedov's first visit to Persia was in 1819. He rapidly mastered Persian and Arabic and acquired a high reputation as a shrewd and reliable diplomat. In 1822 he became diplomatic secretary to General Ermolov, the commander-in-chief at Tiflis.

The Character of Mickiewicz's poetical world is determined, as that of every writer, by two factors, the epoch which furnished the material for his imagination along with the general literary style prevailing in this epoch, and his poetic personality, which formed and transformed this material. His epoch was that of romanticism, hence his world is basically romantic with a definitely, sometimes exclusively Polish flavor; his poetic (and human) personality was one of the most powerful, hence it expressed itself both in romantic and extraromantic forms in a highly individual manner, uniting national and universal elements.

This world embraced vast and various regions, extended—according to the general romantic spirit and the prologue to Faust—“vom Himmel durch die Welt zur Hölle.” Heaven and hell were represented, both by an absolute faith in the supernatural world and by literary accessories, for instance by employing good and evil spirits, ghosts, witches, mermaids, and so on, as symbols of strong, mysterious forces, not only mingling with the human world, but directly influencing human fate.

It is a more or less accepted truth that the last hundred years of European poetry have been marked by a process of radical change in the structure of the poetic phrase. The logical or “understandable” sequence of words has proved to be less and less in favor with the poets, and a new aesthetics based upon the purely emotional appeal of words has emerged. That process reached its peak in Dada and surrealist movements, and seems to be parallel with the antirationalist trends in philosophy.

To pronounce such a judgment does not mean dismissing modern poetry as modest in its achievements or deprived of meaning. Nevertheless, living in a changing world, we are compelled to evaluate the present developments in the name of the future, or of what we imagine the future of poetry will be. We can assume that the serious setback suffered lately by surrealism and kindred literary schools in Europe signifies the poets' desire to trim the overgrown garden of words. There is undoubtedly a tendency to revise once more the past, and to accept the usefulness of some older techniques scorned by the followers of Father Brémond's poésie pure.

Mickiewicz's poetry assumed a new interest and value among Polish people during the second World War. The poet M. Jastrun, in his preface to a new edition of Pan Tadeusz, stressed the significance and importance of the poem for those Poles who were compelled to spend the war in the Soviet Union or in the West. Another poet, J. Przyboś, stated in his article, “The Final Word” (“Słowo ostateczne,” Twórczość, No. 4, 1945), that in these cruel times Mickiewicz has become more “contemporary” than ever. The Polish Government decided, as early as May, 1945, to sponsor a full national edition of Mickiewicz's works. Finally, in a poll organized by the periodical Kuźnica in 1947, the Polish public voted first place to a new edition of the works of Mickiewicz. However, in this period (until July, 1948), there were more articles than books published about Mickiewicz, due partly to publishing difficulties.