To the Editor:

Jean-François Revel’s article, “Can the Democracies Survive?” [June], is a brilliant and eloquent manifesto, of the greatest importance. I fully agree that there is no objective reason for the democracies to succumb. But Mr. Revel’s conclusion is inadequate.

Mr. Revel argues that we must maintain the deterrent credibility of the American nuclear arsenal—on this point, I fully agree—but does not tell us what forms of aggression the nuclear shield can be expected to deter. Korea? Vietnam? Israel? Turkey? Or only the United States itself?

True, Mr. Revel says that the second principle of Western foreign policy must be “to reply to any Soviet encroachments with immediate reprisals, mainly economic, and to make no further concessions without manifest, equivalent, and palpable counterconcessions.” Here Mr. Revel falls victim to illusions like those he has so effectively denounced. Economic sanctions against aggression are of no utility. Full-throated naval blockades did not bring down Napoleon, the Kaiser, or Hitler. Economic sanctions did not even defeat tiny, landlocked Rhodesia. Yet we go on believing that economic pressures are an aseptic substitute for war, and that a halt to further Soviet imperalism would be a sufficient guarantee of peace. As a well-known authority on the subject once said, “When you deal with aggression, only one thing counts. The rest is blah blah blah.”

Eugene V. Rostow
Yale University Law School
New Haven, Connecticut



To the Editor:

Jean-François Revel has written a splendid analysis of a malaise which lies at the heart of Western democratic societies, and which is rapidly destroying their will to resist Communist aggression. Mr. Revel writes with the passion and verve of a French Solzhenitsyn.

He makes a very perceptive observation in calling attention to the fact that “unlike capitalism, Communism is not an economic system, it is a political system.” . . . It is by now a well-worn observation that Marx left no blueprint for the transformation of capitalism into a “socialist economy.” When the Bolsheviks took over Russia after the Revolution, they were forced to improvise economic schemes such as the collectivization of the farms in the interest of rapid industrialization at the cost of sacrificing millions of lives in the Ukraine.

The various attempts by socialist parties in Europe to work out an economic transformation of contemporary industrial societies in the light of socialist ideals have reached a point of diminishing returns. Nationalization of basic industries has provided no panacea for ailing segments of the economy, and redistribution of income has reached limits beyond which an economic system will no longer be viable.

It is one of the ironies of history that . . . while Marxism as an alternative economic system has proved to be a delusion in the West, it has taken on a new life in the Third World. In Central America it serves as a moral justification for the power-hungry drive of revolutionary guerrillas in Nicaragua and El Salvador to overthrow authoritarian regimes and destroy the existing social structure. In achieving this goal, the totalitarians are encouraged and supported by alienated intellectuals and their political allies in the U.S. who believe that these revolutionaries represent the only reliable force for progress and social justice. Thus, the recent abject and morally revolting “Dear Comrade Ortega” letter in which ten U.S. Congressmen made a plea to the Communist junta to conform to its promise of a pluralist society. This letter implicitly concedes that the revolution in Nicaragua has brought the economic justice so ardently desired for the peasants of Latin America by U.S. intellectuals and begs the junta to go through the motions of a “free election” in order to sanctify its great accomplishment in overthrowing the old social order. All that remains is to achieve political freedom, a rather baffling problem for the likes of Representatives Barnes and Solarz, and Senators Dodd and Tsongas.

David S. Lichtenstein
Rockville, Maryland



To the Editor:

The perceptive article by Jean-François Revel is especially praiseworthy for the attention it draws to the dangers arising from Western hostility to South Africa.

In his book, The Real War (published in 1980), former President Richard Nixon quoted a statement by the late Leonid Brezhnev: “Our aim is to gain control of the two great treasure houses on which the West depends—the energy treasure house of the Persian Gulf and the mineral treasure house of central and southern Africa.” As Mr. Revel realizes, South Africa and South West Africa/Namibia are important not only as key parts of the “mineral treasure house” but also for their position on the tanker route from the Persian Gulf around the Cape of Good Hope. What Mr. Revel might have made more clear is that a base in South Africa would not only enable Soviet forces to prevent the use of the Cape route for shipment of oil to the West, but would also strengthen Moscow’s hand in a future attempt to bring the “energy treasure house” into the Soviet sphere.

To defend its interests in the Persian Gulf (or elsewhere in the Indian Ocean area) without having to rely exclusively on the implausible threat of nuclear retaliation, the West needs secure lines of communication into the Indian Ocean from either the Atlantic or the Pacific—preferably both. Moscow has already acquired naval facilities at Da Nang and Cam Ranh Bay, in what was once South Vietnam, thus threatening the Singapore-Malacca Strait route from the Pacific and South China Sea. Similarly, there are Soviet naval facilities in South Yemen and on Ethiopia’s Dahlak Island, endangering the Suez-Red Sea route from the Atlantic and Mediterranean. A Soviet base in South Africa, on the Cape route, would complete this ominous pattern.

One Soviet instrument in southern Africa is the African National Congress (ANC), which claimed responsibility for the car bomb that exploded in Pretoria’s Church Street during the afternoon rush hour on May 20, 1983. Speaking in Bulgaria in 1980, ANC leader Oliver Tambo expressed “solidarity” with the Palestine Liberation Organization, denounced the “dangerous racist-Zionist alliance of South Africa and Israel,” and praised Communist Vietnam as a “free” country which had won a “historic victory” over American “occupation forces.” The ANC, known to be closely linked with the Moscow-line South African Communist party, is an ally of the South West Africa People’s Organization (SWAPO), to which Mr. Revel briefly refers.

Despite its terrorism, the ANC (like SWAPO) has attracted sympathy from elements in the West more interested in attacking apartheid than in opposing Communist totalitarianism. Thus it is vital to alert the public to the true motives behind ANC advocacy of economic embargoes and other anti-South African policies. Even if it did not lead to an ANC victory in South Africa, and to the establishment of a Soviet base in that country, any Western action that impeded South African exports of gold, chrome, and platinum-group metals would be highly advantageous to Moscow. By sharply increasing the price of these commodities, which the Soviet Union itself exports, it would allow the Kremlin to reap enormous profits—at our expense.

These points, I believe, reinforce Mr. Revel’s contention that a policy of hostility to South Africa would be dangerous to Western interests.

Kenneth H.W. Hilborn
University of Western Ontario
London, Canada



To the Editor:

Jean-François Revel does a great service in his illumination of the soft underbelly of democracy and how thoroughly the Communists understand and exploit it. . . . Yet his conclusions, after this brilliant analysis, are sad and even tragic.

After going to such lengths to prove that Communism is single-minded, dedicated, and irrevocably committed to the domination and enslavement of humanity, Mr. Revel suggests that a solution to the problem lies in reaching a higher plateau of communication and cooperation among the democracies—a return to “normal diplomacy.” Mr. Revel seems to ignore the fact that it is just such “diplomacy” that has brought us where we are today. Diplomacy, as demonstrated clearly by our historical record, has no norms. It is guided by the rule of expediency and pays only lip-service to principle, ethics, and morality.

Mr. Revel’s answer is no answer. . . . It reflects the sterility of the intellectual community in the area of new ideology. There must be some revolutionary . . . thinking that will capture the imagination of men and guide them to a new plateau of civilization as did the Declaration of Independence in 1776. . . .

Irwin B. Golden
Upland, California



To the Editor:

“Can the Democracies Survive?” is the most lucid discussion I have read of this vital topic. To the list of self-imposed disadvantages under which the democracies labor in their struggle against totalitarianism, I would add one more: television. . . . To make my point, I ask you to fantasize with me that television had been invented thirty years earlier than it was, and that most Americans owned a color television set in 1940 as they did in 1970. Would this have altered the outcome of World War II?

In the beginning, the public reaction to Pearl Harbor would have been even stronger, if that is possible. But what then? Midway was a victory of historic proportions, made possible in part by the heroic attack of Torpedo Squadron 8. But what if we had seen in our living rooms the loss of every plane and all but one man without scoring a single hit? . . . The loss of the squadron, not the victory, might have been the salient memory. Guadalcanal was a terrible trial; watching it day by day would have been a trial for the viewers as well. Our landing in North Africa was an easy success, though we suffered hundreds of casualties at the hands of the Vichy French. But suppose these casualties had been shown in “living color.” Would public resentment against the French have affected our mounting the Normandy invasion? And if it did not, would our viewing the Sicilian and Italian campaigns have dampened our desire for D-day?

The point, of course, is that our opponents would be seeing only cheerful propaganda, while we watched more or less realistic depictions of the grimness of war. This would result in two psychological disadvantages for us. First, it would tend to break down the denial that is necessary for most of us if we are to survive major stresses such as war or serious illness. Confronting reality is necessary in order to deal with it. But confronting it daily, in color, in our own homes, may eventually break down our ability to deal with it in any way other than escape, i.e., peace on any terms available, as in Vietnam. Second, seeing soldiers suffer and die, while we sit safely at home, must evoke feelings of guilt. In some this may inspire enlistment in the armed forces; in most it will inspire antiwar sentiments, in an effort to assuage the guilt by removing the proximate cause. . . . I believe this phenomenon was one (among many) of the causes of the antiwar movement in the Vietnam era. . . .

I can offer no solution consonant with freedom of the press, . . . but the problem must be stated clearly and faced honestly. Otherwise, we may find ourselves unable to conduct successfully any war longer or costlier than the one in Grenada. As a first approach, we might try censorship of television, while allowing unrestricted radio and print journalism in a war zone, short of revealing vital information to the enemy. Such an approach might be the best available compromise between freedom of the press and survival of all freedoms. If both sides could watch a war on honest television, there might be no more wars; if only the free side does so, there may be no more freedom.

David C. Stolinsky
Los Angeles, California



To the Editor:

. . . Jean-François Revel makes many good observations, . . . but there are some important distinctions that he totally ignores.

The first is his broad use of the term “democracy.” Mr. Revel constantly refers to the “Western democracies,” as if there actually exist such things. Certainly, if he means to include the United States—as I think he does—then he is confused. The U.S. was and still is a republic. I know that in contemporary thinking a republic is just a democracy on a necessarily representative scale, but that concept is wrong. There is a sharp difference between a democracy and a republic. We need only look back to the patriots who founded this nation—men like Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, and John Marshall—to see that they thoroughly understood the distinction. . . .

These men were good students of history. They knew that no democracy had ever lasted more than a very few generations before chaos and revolution erupted, usually through demagogues promising economic equality to the masses. Despotism always followed in democracy’s wake.

Thus, the republican form of government was born of necessity. It is a government of law, law that strictly limits the excesses of government no matter what the ignorant masses think they want. A government of laws rather than rule by the masses, that is the difference between a republic and a democracy. . . .

Mr. Revel’s second basic mistake is again one of semantics. Just as the public no longer understands the crucial difference between a democracy and a republic, the difference between Communism and socialism is also misunderstood. Mr. Revel constantly states that Communism is the threat when Communism does not exist. Socialism is the threat. The Soviet Union is a totalitarian socialist state trying to bring about world socialism. . . . The Marxist ideal is that once each nation has achieved national socialism, then automatically all borders can be ignored and all national competition will cease. Thus the interim goal stated in all Marxist literature, past and present, calls for socialist liberation, the abolition of capitalism. It matters not one whit whether the Soviets impose socialism upon us by force or we impose it upon ourselves via . . . democracy.

And that is the key, the reason that in this struggle between freedom and tyranny, ideas are of absolute importance. Because democracy and socialism are highly compatible . . ., they are both swallowed eagerly by the masses.

But a republic and capitalism are natural mates. The right to own private property is essential to both. Man can be free in the truest sense only in a republic that utilizes a free-enterprise system of economics. . . .

Gordon Ipock
Tarboro, North Carolina



To the Editor:

. . . Remaining vigilant in the face of the Soviet threat is vital, but so is the maintenance of democracy at home and the encouragement of it abroad. Jean-François Revel suggests that we all recognize the need for strategically critical alliances even if they require collaboration with governments notorious for their human-rights records. While this view is essentially correct, I hold that it is in the interest of the West to encourage democracy within those countries.

Let us look at a couple of specific cases. In Greece under the Colonels (1967-74), the U.S. government tacitly supported the maintenance of a repressive military regime. Rather than force the hand of the military to open the political system and allow greater freedom of speech and reasonable political activism, the U.S. sat by, essentially encouraging a regime that could only inspire and strengthen pro-Moscow elements in Greece.

When Papandreou was elected, on a platform that demanded a pullout from the EEC and NATO, we should not have been surprised, nor should we have been dismayed when he refused to support the . . . indictment of Soviet behavior regarding KAL Flight 007.

I believe a similar argument holds true for the Shah’s Iran and Somoza’s Nicaragua. Those despots needed to be restrained, forced to relinquish their more brutal instruments of terror, and encouraged to tolerate political change via the ballot box. Intolerant regimes do not allow for the growth of a loyal opposition, they merely breed fanaticism among large sectors of an oppressed society. Putting it another way, Ferdinand Marcos, in his nineteenth year in power, plays perfect host to Western strategic needs; but is he going to leave the West high and dry down the road due to his mishandling of the domestic situation in the Philippines?

In my opinion, it is as mistaken to ignore vital strategic interests as it is to base foreign policy on this issue alone. I fear that Mr. Revel’s implied view allows for excessive reliance on the former at the expense of the latter.

In a country like Turkey, for example, there is more at stake than merely the Turkish straits and the maintenance of a credible deterrent to a Soviet sweep down from the Caucasus mountains into the Middle East. Turkey has been struggling to establish a working democracy since the Ataturk revolution some sixty years ago. That so-called “fascist” military in Turkey is the keeper of the Kemalist dream of a secular, democratic, Western nation. Every time the military intervened, it did so to bring the country back to these principles and to reestablish peaceful circumstances so a return to democracy could be achieved. The Turkish General Staff intervened in 1960 and established a more liberal constitution in the aftermath of Prime Minister Menderes’s wholesale abuse of his constitutional powers. In 1970, the military extended limited martial law to cope with Soviet- and PLO-supported revolutionary excesses in Turkish universities and the eastern provinces. Some eleven changes of government between 1971 and 1980, 30 to 50 people being killed daily, and the establishment of one autonomous Communist enclave on the shores of the Black Sea certainly demanded the intervention of the military once again in September 1980. No, Turkey is not a showcase of democracy. However, Turkey is moving toward democracy at a rate which its polity can cope with and for this it needs more support, not less.

To classify Turkey in the same category as South Africa is mistaken, but to view it exclusively in light of its strategic assets overlooks its sincere attempt to democratize its society and assimilate to the Western world. Clamor and vituperation in this case are misguided reactions, but so is the position that Turkey is merely a vital strategic zone to the West.

The growth and development of tolerant and democratic governments in the Second and Third Worlds are both a strategic and moral imperative in the long run. If the encouragement of democracy in these nations can be called cultural or political imperialism, then so be it.

Lowell A. Bezanis
Chicago, Illinois



Jean-François Revel writes:

Before I reply to the interesting letters printed above, I would like to draw the reader’s attention to the fact that my article was taken from a book, How Democracies Perish, which was published in France in 1983 and which Double-day will be bringing out in an English version next month. The book is quite long, and all its details, analysis, evidence, and arguments could not be presented in the space of an article. Though it might sound complacent, I daresay most of the objections raised in the letters are answered in the book. Perhaps I should say instead that I agree with most of the objections because in the main they coincide with the central themes of my book, though, for obvious reasons, these could not all be fully covered in the article.

For example, to deal with Eugene V. Rostow’s first objection, one of the main points I make in How Democracies Perish is exactly his. I emphasize that the classical Soviet way to blackmail the democracies is to tell us: “If you resist Moscow in Afghanistan, Angola, Chad, El Salvador, or even inside the port of Stockholm, you will start a general nuclear war” (and partisans of one-way détente, of no-linkage, and of “let’s avoid confrontation at all cost” endorse this view). Of course nuclear deterrence does not apply to all kinds of aggression: it does not apply to international terrorism; it does not apply to the stealing of technology. We should resist these aggressions “in kind,” but we don’t, or do so only very little, because we have been trained to see ourselves as a “threat to peace” or “trigger-happy nuclear warmongers” if we do.

As for Mr. Rostow’s second objection, economic sanctions: I agree that it is very difficult to gauge their real impact, though I tend to think it cannot be completely nil—after all, Napoleon and Hitler were defeated and history is full of examples of cities surrendering after sieges that cut off their food and water supplies. But the effects of economic sanctions cannot be readily gauged because they are never really implemented. Moreover, Western democracies usually tend to think sanctions are inefficient only when the Soviet Union or a Communist country is the target. For instance, in January 1982 Mrs. Thatcher said that economic sanctions against the Siberian pipeline were useless, but in May 1982, during the Falklands war, she told all Britain’s allies that they had to apply sanctions against Argentina. So, in my view, democratic reluctance to apply sanctions against the Soviet Union is a political fact, not the result of economic analysis. Finally, in most instances, what we call sanctions against the Soviets merely amount to the withdrawal of a privilege: subsidized credits, selling them goods below the market price, buying their gas above the market price, etc. Again, then, what is at stake is a political approach rather than an economic one. We think: “If we stop helping them, they will become more dangerous”—which is exactly what they want us to think.

To David S. Lichtenstein’s observations, I would add that, by now, even in the Third World, confidence in socialism, in state-owned and centrally-planned economies, is worn out. Twenty years ago it was fashionable to compare China’s alleged successes with India’s failure. Today we know, and it was true then as well, that it should be the other way around. Algeria, Tanzania, Angola, Mozambique, Jamaica (under Manley) are dramatic failures. During the military-socialist experiment in Peru (1968-80), GNP fell by 60 percent. The illusions about Castro’s Cuba lasted about ten years; about Nicaragua, just one year. The letter from the Congressmen which Mr. Lichtenstein cites is an exception. Possibly the last doctrinaire Marxists today live in the United States. But I agree that this new perception of the inefficiency of the socialist system in the developing economies has probably come too late and that a lot of political damage has already been done.

To Kenneth H. W. Hilborn, I wish to say I am perfectly aware of how much is at stake in South Africa. Our relations with South Africa exemplify the moral quagmire in which the democracies must operate, a handicap totalitarian regimes don’t have to face. We feel, and sympathizers of the Communist world tell us, that we have no moral right because of apartheid to support South Africa in its fight against gradual Soviet encirclement. But no one tells the Soviets they have no right to protect their interests unless they enhance human rights everywhere. Such an objection would make everyone laugh, including ourselves. And it’s true, in my view, that democracies do have special duties that make their foreign policy difficult.

Although I am convinced that apartheid will disappear sooner than the gulag, I am also convinced that South Africa will remain fair game in the meantime for all the virtuosos of the double standard. The sufferings inflicted on the black populations of Africa by black dictators have been and are much worse than anything the black man has to bear in South Africa, though the situation of South African blacks is in any case unacceptable. But despite his Stalinist leanings, Prime Minister Mugabe of Zimbabwe (to give just one example) is considered respectable while Prime Minister Botha of South Africa is not. It is considered legitimate for an American or European foreign minister to deal with Mugabe (or Samora Machel of Mozambique), but not with Botha. We have to realize that such a double standard is a permanent fixture of our foreign policy, though at the same time we must also expose the human-rights violations of self-proclaimed progressives.

Speaking of foreign policy, I disagree with Irwin B. Golden about “normal diplomacy.” Ours has not been “normal diplomacy,” it has been a policy of unilateral concessions. The rule of normal diplomacy is, do not give anything away unless at the same time you get something equivalent or, it is to be hoped, more important in return. The rule of detente (and detente began at Yalta) is to give away what you have—and wait. If nothing comes from the other side—just give away something else, etc., etc.

As for the “new plateau of civilization,” it raises the problem of a “counter-ideology,” to which I devote a whole chapter in my book; it is a riddle I also tried to analyze in a previous book, The Totalitarian Temptation. In brief, there have been in the 20th century two kinds of revolution: the totalitarian revolution and the democratic revolution. The first one has been an abysmal failure, the second a reasonable success—but only the people who live under totalitarianism know this.

I don’t think I would endorse completely David C. Stolinsky’s phrase, the “self-imposed disadvantages” of the democracies, since these so-called disadvantages are actually the cornerstone of democracy, the counterpart of its advantages. But of course I know what he means; in Chapter 16 of How Democracies Perish, I draw a parallel between the Vietnam war, permanently covered by the media, and the Tibetan genocide perpetrated by the Chinese, which took place during the same period and went completely unnoticed. Mr. Stolinsky asks whether confronting reality every day, at home, on TV, seeing soldiers die, will not break the determination to pay the price for freedom. The trouble is that TV doesn’t bring us reality, only a part of reality. TV can show us soldiers dying in Lebanon, but cannot show us the geopolitical implications of the Lebanese war.

Of course, the words of the anchormen are supposed to explain the context, but when you read them separately, you discover that they are even more simplistic than the images presented on the screen. TV is technically sophisticated but culturally primitive. Unlike the press, which of necessity flourished with the disappearance of illiteracy, TV doesn’t presuppose a greater capacity to think on the part of those who watch it (or who create it, for that matter)—on the contrary.

No doubt this is a challenge democracy has to cope with, but in a democratic way: not by censorship but by setting higher standards of responsibility. And that is something only the public can achieve. In fact, I understand the public has already begun to be much more critical of TV news than it was in the “good old days” of the 60’s and 70’s.

I am not convinced by Gordon Ipock’s statement that a “republic and capitalism are natural mates,” since the USSR is a republic and Spain is not. Sweden, Norway, Denmark, Belgium, the United Kingdom are not republics, but they are democracies. Greece under the Colonels was a republic, not a democracy. So is Communist China and Qaddafi’s Libya, but not Luxembourg, which is a Grand Duchy and a democracy. So I do feel that the real distinction nowadays is between democratic and non-democratic countries. As to whether democracies exist, my answer is: the best way to find out is to live a few years in a non-democratic country. Mr. Ipock also says that a republic implies capitalism. I would put it another way: I would say that democracy is a system where the economy is separate from the political power, at least where the economy is not totally or mainly run by the political power. Where the political and economic power (and usually the cultural power as well) merge, democracy dies.

As for the difference between socialism and Communism, if we go back to principles, I agree with Mr. Ipock that there is no difference: both aim at the abolition of capitalism, and socialism is the path which leads to Communism. In fact, the Communist countries call themselves the “socialist camp.” But experience suggests the following distinctions. At the theoretical level, I would call socialism the political philosophy that advocates the break with private enterprise and the collectivization of the economy. At the practical level, I call Communist all countries where a Communist party has grabbed the monopoly of power and applied the Leninist rule of “democratic centralism.” Communist parties in free societies struggle to attain such power, but in the meantime are themselves run internally according to that same rule of “democratic centralism.” (The Italian Communist party is no exception, in spite of the illusions of many liberals.)

Now, still at the practical level, in democratic societies there are two kinds of socialist parties: the Marxist-socialists like Mitterrand and Papandreou, who wish to nationalize the economy while preserving political freedom and pluralism. Then there are the social democrats, who don’t want to nationalize the economy but want a highly developed welfare state: this group includes Felipe González of Spain, Mário Soares of Portugal, Bettino Craxi of Italy, and the German and Scandinavian socialists, all of whom believe in the necessity of free enterprise and of the market. Of course, the Communists and the Marxist-socialists call them renegades.

I quite agree, finally, with Lowell A. Bezanis. What he describes is one of the duties of the democracies, a duty the totalitarian states, of course, do not have, which makes things much easier for them. They use that double standard so well that one of their main courses of action is destabilizing fragile democracies, especially through terrorism, and turning them into dictatorships. They can then say, “Look what kind of powers the United States is supporting!” The Soviets achieved this beautifully in Turkey; they failed in Spain, where the military coup indirectly triggered by ETA terrorists was crushed in 1981. (I would like to draw Mr. Ipock’s attention to the fact that the failure of the coup was due mainly to the king’s loyalty to democratic institutions.)

I would deny, nevertheless, that the Greek Colonels were put into power by the White House. Greece has a solid and old tradition of dictatorship, and John Metaxas, the dictator of the 30’s, was not, I believe, a puppet of the CIA, which in any case did not exist in those days. The “caudillism” of the Latin Americans is a tradition the U.S. did not invent, though too often, I agree, it has used this tradition in an immoral way. I don’t think Washington put Marcos where he is. I am sure the State Department would be much happier if the Philippines were run in the same democratic way Switzerland is. From the defense point of view, it would be much safer.

To impose democracy on the Third World is a noble goal, but one which is nevertheless considered imperialistic by the Third World. Moreover, the worst dictators of the Third World will tell you that they are democratic. And it was not the United States or Western Europe which tried to impose censorship of the news, through UNESCO, under the preposterous name of the “New International Information Order,” but the Third World itself, developing an idea conceived by the Soviet Union. In conclusion, to tell the democracies, “You have no right to fight for your own survival unless and until the whole world has become democratic” boils down to saying, “You have no right to try to solve your problem unless and until there is no problem.”



+ A A -
You may also like
Share via
Copy link