Harmonies & Discords

(See Cover)

The blitz scattered British homes but it tidied up British thinking. It gave the British an idea of what they wanted. Last week they hoped that "the most important and dramatic announcement" of World War II would come out of the Roosevelt-Churchill conference in Casablanca. When they found no Four-Power Pact had been formed, no evidence of a United Nations grand strategy council, no inspired program of joint political action, Britons wrote off the conference as just another meeting between their good friend Franklin Roosevelt and their old war horse Winston Churchill. A wit cabled that popular response to the conference made a sound like a feather falling on a velvet cushion.

There was no attempt to discredit the conference's real contribution in unifying Anglo-U.S. plans to bring Hitler's fortress of Europe tumbling down about German ears. But something was missing. The overture to the grand invasion of Europe held no thread of melody for the common man to whistle at his work.

On their tight little isle the British have dreamed and schemed of a symphony of nations, of what Foreign Secretary Robert Anthony Eden has called an "orderly law-abiding" society which will make the world "one village street from Edinburgh to Chungking." This week, in the pessimism following Casablanca, such concepts seemed far more a dream than a scheme.

Yet Anthony Eden is a stubborn man, and one who tackles first problems first. Last spring he tackled the problem of British-Russian relations and, against some violent opposition in his own Party, emerged with the pact that was signed in May. This week London reported that Foreign Secretary Eden was planning a trip to the U.S. to tackle the many political problems Roosevelt and Churchill left unsolved.

Any U.S.-British agreement about the postwar world would have to be considered in the light of the existing British-Russian agreement. That agreement is fairly specific. Article V says:

"The high contracting parties, having regard to the interests of each of them, agree to work together in close and friendly collaboration after the re-establishment of peace for the organization of security and economic prosperity in Europe. They will take into account the interests of the United Nations in these objects, and they will act in accordance with the two principles of not seeking territorial aggrandizement for themselves and of non-interference in the internal affairs of other states."

Yet between Britain and Russia already are brewing differences concerned with the internal affairs of other states:

> Britain supports reactionary Yugoslav Government in Exile and Draja Mihailo-vich, while Russia supports the Partisan groups which work for a Greater Yugoslavia.

> Britain tacitly supports the proposal of Poland for a federation of Eastern European states. Russia is cool.

> Britain maintains moderately agreeable relations with the Spanish Fascist Government of Francisco Franco, mortal enemy of Joseph Stalin.

Anthony Eden's backbreaking job is either to settle these and other differences with Russia, then to sell the settlement to the U.S., or to reach a postwar agreement with the U.S. that will be acceptable to Russia. As of this week the outlook was gloomy.

Eden has never shown a preference for easy jobs. Britons have not forgotten that he fought for an international system of collective security, now recognized as a prerequisite for any lasting peace. Aware that in Britain all gains are made by compromise and that men who stick by their principles are rare in public life, the British people have reserved a spot in their thinking and in their affection for Eden as a spokesman of liberal Toryism.

Why Eden? In the past year's Gallup polls in Britain Eden has run as first choice to succeed Winston Churchill as Prime Minister, challenged only during Sir Stafford Cripps's brief flurry last spring. He might or might not be only a stopgap Prime Minister. (He might, for example, be muscled out of the way by Arch-Tory Sir John Anderson.) But, Churchill having announced that he will retire as soon as war ends--when the U.S. wants to talk permanent postwar settlements--the best available Briton for the other end of the discussion is Mr. Eden.

A protege of ex-Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin, Eden is the son of the late Sir William Eden, seventh holder of a baronetcy dating back to 1672. In World War I he rose from a second lieutenant at 18 to a major at 21. He received the Military Cross, one of the Army's highest awards for gallantry. Winston Churchill called him "the one fresh figure of magnitude" which survived and arose out of the slaughter of Britain's finest young men.

After the war Eden took First Class Honors in Oriental Languages at Oxford, and as late as 1941 delighted Turkish troops by shouting at them in their native language: "Give Hitler hell."

Today, as both Foreign Secretary and Leader of the House, Eden uses tact and charm in keeping debates within reason, chats earnestly with opposition leaders in the midst of the most heated discussions. He has the trick of lightly fingering the arm of a backbencher in a gesture of intimacy that avoids the bad taste of the backslapper. During the week he lives in the Foreign Office. Weekends he spends in a comfortable 18th-Century house near London, with handy direct telephones to the Prime Minister and to the Foreign Office. Last week he spent an evening out at the Queensberry All-Service Club in London's Soho. An ATS girl asked him to dance. Suavely Eden danced an encore with her.

Lord Eyelash. There was a time when Eden was known in the chancelleries of Europe as "Lord Eyelash." Women gasped when they saw him. Others considered him merely a handsome man in a black Homburg hat who dashed around on good causes. But Eden dislikes being called the "Beau Brummel of British Politics." His is serious business.

Last week he set about modernizing his Foreign Office--issued a Government White Paper proposing long-needed reforms to British diplomacy. Hereafter the diplomatic, commercial and consular services will be combined in a single foreign service. New recruits will be chosen by competitive examination. Those passing will be given an 18-month traveling scholarship to study languages and history abroad. (Said Liberal M.P. Vernon Bartlett: "It will no longer be almost essential to have a silver spoon in one's mouth when one is born or an old-school tie when one is adolescent.")

A champion of younger men in government work, Eden himself no longer looks like an undergraduate or a prodigy. The grey streaks in his hair, the lines in his face, his thick-lensed spectacles mark a new maturity. He almost regrets his natural capacity for looking immaculate. There are too many other things worrying him and Britain.

Uncle Sam. In a speech to his constituents in 1942 Eden expounded, in his tired, high-pitched voice, the basic issue of British foreign policy. It was simply: "We are determined to keep in close touch with the U.S. in all matters of policy, and we have also specifically pledged ourselves in the Anglo-Soviet treaty to collaborate fully in postwar reconstruction with Soviet Russia." On home-front issues he has said: "Never again must we tolerate chronic unemployment, extremes of wealth and poverty, slums and the lack of opportunity for so many which disfigured our national life in the past."

The conference at Casablanca showed Britain and the U.S. keeping close touch on military policies. There were no signs that it resolved any differences in political viewpoint between the two nations.

The British still fear that the U.S., although committed to the "unconditional surrender" of Germany, Italy and Japan, may withdraw again into isolation when victory is won. The British still watch U.S. policy operating in North Africa with rising alarm. The British still wonder whether military expediency means that when the U.S. has its say about the swirling postwar hatreds of Europe it may result in blithe recognition of any collaborationist who suddenly swathes himself in professed patriotism. Britain, which has to live across the Channel from Europe, wants no postwar makeshifts that will loose another world war as soon as Allied occupying forces withdraw.

Another danger, soberly noted Britain's New Statesman and Nation, is that if the United Nations are permitted to split into their component blocks after the war, "then quite obviously ... an imperial America, conscious of its new strength, will seek to dominate; a proud Britain, fearing a greater rival, will jealously watch every American advance; a suspicious Russia, finally disillusioned about the hope of cooperating with the capitalist host, will concentrate on the organization of power within her frontiers, and a renascent China, potentially more powerful than any other block, will seek to develop her limitless resources without incurring dangerous obligations to those who once exploited her."

"It would be absolutely fatal," added the London Economist just before .the Casablanca conference, "if, for their heraldic emblem, the United Nations chose an ostrich dormant on a heap of sand."

Colonel Blimp. No matter how they react to outside critics, none can approach the British themselves at selfcriticism. No one has lampooned the British character so brilliantly as crotchety Cartoonist David Low. Last month Britons chuckled when Low wrote an article summing up the arguments of walrus-mustached Colonel Blimp, whom Low created. Said Blimp:

"Gad, sir, a country like Britain with interests all over the world should mind its own business and keep away from foreigners.

"Loyalty comes first. Duty to one's side. Gad, sir, even when the governments are going over an abyss, the nation must march solidly behind them.

"Neutrality and down with the dashed Reds. We had no quarrel with Hitler or Mussolini. They were obviously the sort of people to whom, if one offered one's hand, one would take dashed good care to get it back again.

"The grave danger of making an alliance with the dashed Reds was that it would have lowered our prestige with the enemy. (In mentioning the dashed Reds, of course, I distinguish them from the heroic Russian people now defending their Motherland.)

"What of the future? . . . Gad, sir, the troops are fighting for civilization, not for sordid ideals.

"I'm all for the Atlantic Charter, of course, except as regards the British Empire. Gad, sir, what we have we'll hold, if we can get it back.

"What about the Home Front? Low supports these dashed Nosey Parkers running about, planning everything. Absolute anarchy. . . . These Planners say they are out to avoid chaos. Say what you like about chaos, it provides complete freedom for Enterprise and Initiative.

"We must revive exports by prohibiting imports, thereby inducing a spirit of Healthy Competition. . . . Costs must be cheapened by reducing wages, thus increasing the purchasing power of the people and creating domestic demand.

"It appears certain now that victory will be won as soon as we have defeated the enemy. . . . Let's put our backs to the wall with stiff upper lips and all pull together against Government interference and the future will be before us."

Good Old Joe. Low expressed the cynicism of the British toward the past. He also emphasized the people's growing sentimental attachment--described as "cupboard love"--for Russia. Workmen chalk a hammer and sickle ori bombs "just for luck." Factory workers shout at Government speakers that they want the bombers they are making to go to "Good Old Joe." The Communist Party has capitalized on an all-out war program and the zeal for Socialism which the Labor Party had 35 years ago. Although politically the Communists have little importance, they are on the side of the people. Tory Anthony Eden is also on the side of the people when he seeks in Russia a partner in peace.

Adolf Hitler did not do it purposely, but he brought one lesson home to the British. What Anthony Eden could not do by persuasion and argument Hitler did by war. He proved that peace cannot be bought like eggs at a store; it cannot be found by refusing to fight for it; it cannot be maintained unless the diseases that cause war are eradicated.

The British people, having learned that lesson, are in sympathy with the peoples of China who learned it long ago, with the Russians and the great body of U.S. public opinion which learned from Pearl Harbor that no one can be too proud to be bombed.

What the British hoped for at the Casablanca conference was not an answer merely to the question: Can flesh be made to grow on old skeletons? They wanted a specific and inspiring program of a better world that would send them singing down the road to victory.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.