WHILE I'm hardly about to defend the Ayatollah Khomeini's cowardly call for the head of Salman Rushdie, I am surprised that few seem unable to at least entertain the ambiguities in the Rushdie affair.

I'm particularly surprised by the community of writers who know from experience that free speech is not absolute; that "free speech" is constantly restrained, compromised, molded and shaped to serve a myriad of ends and needs, and not all of them wholesome either. (Particular concern over Canadians' right to free speech might best be directed to the few rich families who own the press in this country and effectively restrain the airing of alternative views.) Indeed, this letter may never be published in Books in Canada in whole or in part for the simple reason that the editors have their own imperatives in dealing with the material they receive or commission. I could take this to be a compromise of my freedom of speech, but I'm not awfully concerned. Collectives, such as editorial boards, have rights and responsibilities, too.

In the continual defence of the form of free speech, no one seems to question the content. Stan Persky says that "we do not accept that a work of literature can be banned, the voice of a writer silenced." Really? I can think of a book that should ? have been banned, its writer silenced. Perhaps if some wise editor had rejected the manuscript of Mein Kampf, or bookstores had refused to stock it, or a public refused to buy it, Adolf Hitler might have remained an obscure figure incapable of engendering a world war. Or would Persky trot out the ghastly shibboleth: "I may not agree with what you say, but by God I defend your right to say it"?

If there is a time when a book should be banned, one might ask if The Satanic Verse es is the book and now the time. No, probably not. The book has neither the lies, distortions, nor the venom of Mein Kampf Yet I can't help asking myself: what has this book accomplished in the world? It seems to me it has done little more than stereotype Muslims for those in the so?called West and stereotype the West for Muslims. If The Satanic Verses had presented an intelligent critique of Islam in fictional form then I would be happy to defend it. But since it has failed to do so, I find myself unable to join the chorus of champions for socalled Western values (a chorus, by the way, which includes such fine democrats as Margaret Thatcher). My hope is that The Satanic Verses will wend its way to the dustbins of literary history where it was already headed until the Ayatollah stepped in. That is the tragedy. Khomeini's threats are indefensible. The book, however, is not.

Allan Chamberlain
Winnipeg

I TAKE exception to the statement in the April issue of Books in Canada that all writers share in the responsibility to defend Salman Rushdie and his work. I am a writer and I deny all responsibility for The Satanic Verses. Mr. Rushdie

I has written a mean?spirited attack on human dignity. He can fight his own battles in defence of it. 1, too, had a waking dream, one in which Salman Rushdie was lighting fools the way to dusty death.

Marion Johnson London, Ont.

I'D LIKE to commend Books in Canada for three pieces in the April issue. In "Long live Salman Rushdie," Brian Fawcett's brilliant and courageous "To the careful reader," and your words on the death of Ken Adachi, I find the eloquence, passion, fairmindedness, and generosity that makes me rejoice again in those curious human sound patterns we call language.

Too often in this country, we are urged to praise our writers simply because they are ours. No patriotism here, people, just well?earned respect.

M. E. Csamer Toronto