“Why?”
“In the first place because it is not going far enough in the struggle. A certain equality will be gained. To this extent the movement is right. But the condition of the peasants will not be improved in the slightest as a result of the Suihei movement. In three or four years you will have solved all the problems raised by the Suihei and there will be nothing more to do. No doubt all of you realize that the Suihei has gone no further that the solution of its original aims. That is why a change in the whole direction of the movement is now necessary.”
Tense and weary, all turned their sun-burnt faces towards Hamamato.
“You don’t seem to have quite understood me. All right, then, let’s have questions and answers. Who wants to ask something?”
Hamamato swept his glance over all present.
“They call us the despised ones,” replied Ozawa in dropping accents.
“Is that all? Who else wants to speak?”
“Despised and poverty-stricken,” said someone else, it might have been Isin.
“Poverty-stricken? That’s true. But how—poverty-stricken?”
Hamamato again scrutinized their faces.
“You still don’t understand? Then let me ask you something. Are you all tenants?”
“No. We have no land at all,” replied Miesima, thinking of old grievances.
“Good. People like you are called the agricultural proletariat, or, if you like, you are agri-
