When God Looked the Other Way

I've been reading a gripping book - a memoir - about a young boy who was living in Poland when the Germans and Russians each grabbed half of the country.

So far, his father - an army officer - has disappeared, and the rest of his family has been transported to Khazakhstan by the Russian secret police.

The family is sharing a house with an old Russian couple, and the boy befriends the old man, routinely addressing him as "mister." This worries the man:

"I am a sixty-seven-year-old Russian peasant, and nobody ever called me 'mister' except you and your family. Thank you for being nice, but please do not call me 'mister' when other Russians are around because my wife and I could get in trouble."

"But you haven't done anything wrong. How could you be in trouble?"

"It doesn't matter, Veslav," he replied, looking around nervously.

There's a propaganda technique where you tell an obvious untruth, but back it up with a fancy theory, and punish those who express doubt. For instance: "the Communist system is rational and just".

Lies of that size,
Though cloaked
In thick words,
Fall before the child

And his mild
Disbelief in the absurd
Puts fear
In those who hear.